Okay, I have here my VERY FIRST journal entry EVER. It's, like, blogging 8-tracks. I was 11 years old.
I think my mom bought the journal for me at a yard sale, and I was using one of those pens that has blue AND black AND red AND green at the push of various buttons:
Yesterday Melanie invited me to a sleepover. I went right after school and we had lots of buttery popcorn and soft drink after supper. We started off today with a walk, then we went swimming in their pool. We stayed in from 7:45 in the morning to 3:45 in the afternoon with breaks for lunch. I am very sunburnt, quite sleepy, and very sunsoaked.So first off you can see that I've ALWAYS had a problem with overusing the word "very," and it must be comforting to see how little people change over
But here's the problem: the two INTERESTING things that happened at this sleepover, I didn't write down. The first was that the walk we started out the day with--that healthful walk in the fresh morning air--was a walk out to Melanie's brother's p0rrnn stash in the woods. First p0rrnn I had ever seen. I'd considered myself a woman of the world because I'd seen a Frederick's of Hollywood catalog or two, but YIPES. I was so shocked, the one photo we looked at is burned into my brain. (We only looked at one, then walked away fast, pretending to be cool with it.)
And the second interesting thing was that the neighbor girl we swam in the pool all day with was a teenager, and she was the first girl I'd ever seen with underarm hair, and furthermore she must have had a good three to four inches of it. She floated on her back with her hands behind her head, and her underarm hair winged out to the sides. I was fascinated. Adding up all the peeks, I must have spent two good solid hours staring at her underarms that day.
And do I mention any of this in my secret, private diary? No, I do not. I tell about the POPCORN, for the love of pete. It was BUTTERY, apparently.
Ten days go by before I write my second
- He respects and is nice to girls.
- He's cute. He has wavy brown hair and freckles.
This journal is the kind with lined pages on one side and blank on the other, so I have drawn a picture of my fish. I have labeled them with their names; evidently their names were Cleo and Martha. I've also drawn the little fish net, but I messed it up the first time and tried to be all subtle and cazh about the mess-up (on the first page!! aaaagh!!!) by drawing an arrow to it and labeling it "Doodle." So my future self would know it was NOT a mess-up but in fact a carefully planned doodle, deliberately drawn next to a successful drawing of a fish net.