I linked to this post in my Monday post about writing a book and wanted to reblog this today because it is one of my most favorite blog posts. It’s also one of the posts that lost its comments when my Disqus account was hacked back when I was on Blogger. So if you are a long-time reader and wonder where some of your comments on old posts went to, that is why.
First published February 1, 2016.
While I was KonMari’ing the crap out of my home a few weeks ago, I made a discovery.
My high school diary.
I didn’t have to ask if it brought me joy because of the gems inside, oh boy.
If you ever need to do a check to see if you have evolved?
Read any material that you have ever composed before the age of 17.
It really does loads for your self-esteem.
Speaking of low self-esteem, let’s read my diary!
I should state that as of late, I have been feeling a tiny bit disconnected from my teenager.
Like we aren’t on the same page.
Nothing major just little things that normal teens and parents go through but the discovery of this diary was definitely a morsel dropped down from the Lord himself.
Nothing major just little things that normal teens and parents go through but the discovery of this diary was definitely a morsel dropped down from the Lord himself.
Like a guidebook from Heaven to show me that I too also had no developed frontal lobe and that bad decision making isn’t just a way of life, it is also apparently genetic.
Allow me.
Disclaimer: the blurred words are not to protect any bad words I have written.
I have no problem sharing that on here as you well know.
No, those are last names of people I didn’t want to give publicity to.
Because I really didn’t think my sophomore year friends wanted their secret crushes aired for all of the world to see some 28 years later.
Or maybe they do in some weird Love Connection thing I am not going to be a part of, hence the blurred lines.
First, I loved a lot of men in my 10th-grade year.
Not in real life.
Oh hell no.
Only on paper and from across the room all stalker-like.
For ten or so pages I would profess my love for these “men” who really weren’t men at all.
Boys.
Menchildren really.
I would stare at them in the halls, drool over them in study hall, actually convince myself that they probably liked me too and even believe when my friends said, “I TOTALLY HEARD HIM TALKING ABOUT YOU IN SIXTH PERIOD WORLD HISTORY!! SIGH!”
Then I would go home and draw big puffy hearts and profess my manchild love.
I would say in approximately 100 pages of this diary, 50 of them had the above written.
About ten different menchildren.
In one month I had three different menchildren I was squiring and when I say “squiring” I mean, looking at from afar in the lunchroom while eating my Nutty Bar.
I lived quite an exotic life.
Four pages of being sick.
Why?
Why did I find it necessary to take up four pages to write this?
I. Am. On. The. Edge. Of. My. Seat.
Whew, I am so glad I am finally on the mend.
How can I possibly hate school after not being there for an entire week??
If you have lost count, I am on manchild number five and we are only in February.
I feel another sick day coming on……
I need to show this to my teenager.
She has no idea what sheer boredom is.
Oh, I know what it is.
It is when you have to actually WRITE it in a diary.
She has no idea what sheer boredom is.
Oh, I know what it is.
It is when you have to actually WRITE it in a diary.
Fast forward to May because I was really, really boring.
By the way, I had to blur out manchild #7’s name because he is now a prominent eye doctor back home.
But he WAS a dick in 1986.
Moral of the story: never let a dick get in the way of a good time.
That came out wrong.
I guess I needed time to think about it.
I finally danced with a “real” guy.
What was I dancing with before then??
And in the WORST anti-smoking campaign ever:
What. Tha. Frack.
I should have been a liner note writer for Whitesnake, WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL IS THIS??
There is a reason I only kept one diary in all of my childhood.
I wasn’t good at it.
If you excuse me, I will be apologizing to my teenager for being less understanding.
And I will have MY diary under my arm.
A Grace Full Life 
Reblogged this on .
LikeLike
I can’t stop laughing.,….Also, I love a good nutty bar too. 😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Who doesn’t?? 😂😂
LikeLike
Laughing about the reasoning for smoking 😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Right? Like who needs a good reason? KIDDING.
LikeLike
I ate nutty bars during lunch in hs too! I crack up reading the things we wrote in one another’s yearbooks. This stuff is hot off the presses juice. So funny thst you wrote I hate school after having been sick. That last page- deep. I had a crush on a guy for so long in high school – all because he came thru my drive thru window at Burger King. Anyway- EVERYONE knew. So awkward. So many stories about that one crush. Silly times.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love that we have that in common. Also, we both worked fast food jobs in high school. 😊
LikeLike
Priceless find! I can only imaging what my high school diary said as I don’t keep anything like that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am shocked I even have it still LOL.
LikeLike
I had notebook after notebook as diaries from high school. A few years ago, I threw them all away – after I read through them. Basically, it was the same hilarious (well, now hilarious – it was called angst back then) crap as yours…every week I “loved” another boy. Sometimes more than one. I hated my parents. I hated my little sister. My best friend was a jerk, so I hung around someone else. I got sick a lot. (WTF is up with that when we were teens?!)
OMG on your reason for starting smoking…the teenage brain is about on par with a five-year old!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Right??? No. Developed. Frontal. Lobe.
LikeLike
OMG your reason for smoking! LMAO!
A few years ago, my dad gave me a box of my stuff, which included my journals from high school. Including the poetry journals. It was all I could do to not toss those in the fire pit. I haven’t been brave enough to look at those, considering I know much of the poetry has to do with a teacher I was crushing on.
Ooh and there is also the journal I kept when I went on a college trip to Greece. First time drinking and whoa those entries.
Thank you for sharing this!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Omg I would love to read those. Some of the most honest writing we ever do is in diaries because we feel like no one is ever going to read them. ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love your handwriting in this diary! I have a ton of journals in a big plastic bin in my closet. I think the farthest back they go is when I was fifteen. Honestly I treasure them. I love looking back, even if it makes me wince. Sometimes I want to get them all out, put them in chronological order and just look through them all. But then I realize that that is a terrible idea, lol. If I need to, I’ll look through the ones that I have over the last three years, when I’ve made big and positive change. Though I am truly glad that I have them all.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love that you have this! It is a gift to be able to go back and see yourself from long ago.
I have old calendars that I unearthed today…from when the girls were small. I could sit and read the entries all day. I can’t, but I could. 😂
LikeLike
OMG where to start…..
1) I think you just called my eye doctor a dick!
2) I loved nutty bars for lunch….. it was that or ding dongs with chocolate milk for lunch most days. What healthy eating habits I had back then!
3) I have all my diaries back to middle school/junior high. This makes the thought of reading them both tempting and terrifying!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yay you commented!!!
He is. A dick, that is.
Ding dongs are amazing. Do you have Mod Pizza there? They make homemade ones and they are AMAZING.
I wish I had saved all of mine. This one made the cut, apparently. 😂
LikeLike
Never heard of Mod Pizza but would frequent any place that made psuedo ding dongs….lol
Also forgot 4) which was loving your reasoning behind smoking., it was just the best logic ever!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Right?? 😂😂
LikeLike