Dear Diary

While vacationing in the beautiful northern woods of Michigan I read an article in USA Today about good old fashioned journal/diary writing. 

Click below to view article:
http://www.usatoday.com/life/lifestyle/2010-07-29-journal29_CV_N.htm



And so the memories of my 'Dear Diary' days came flooding in and I searched for and found a few of my old diaries.

I have a handwritten account of my life from 1982-1990.  It is not a daily account, far from it.  But it provides a glimpse of my younger self.  
 
Here are a few goodies from my 10-12 year-old self: 

I thought listening to Sexual Healing by Marvin Gaye was risky and delightful.
For some reason I was amazed by the movie Coal Miner's Daughter.
My record high for Atari's Pitfall was 64,000.
I got a lot of perms.
I had an obsession with super balls.
I desperately wanted to "go" with someone.
I carried a maxi pad in my Le Sports Sac purse.
I must have had hundreds of sleepovers.
Bubble exclamation marks littered my 'Dear Diary' pages.
Purchasing Bonjour jeans was worthy of it's very own entry.
I loved Oddball sweatshirts.

A few things from my tween and teen years:
Every boy was a 'massive babe'.
I used at least one of the following words in every entry:
    "Oh shure", "syke", "bogue", and "style" (sarcastic way of saying I didn't like something)
My braces - the tightening, the wires, the wax for the wires that would shred the inside of my mouth
There were many boys I liked that were 'too popular' for me.
Button fly jeans were cool.

The majority of my teen journaling cannot even be mentioned and will stay hidden behind little gold lock and key.  I had a nasty mouth and was self-centered and obnoxious!  I don't remember being so annoying.  How did my family stand me?

My tunnel vision teenager life revolved around boys, boys, boys and my friends.  

I like him, I love him, I want to go with him, I hate him. 
She's my friend, she's not my friend, she's my friend again. 

It was exhausting just reading it all.  It's no wonder teenagers are always tired.

I have a year and a half until Lovey turns 13.  Maybe revisiting my teen years will provide hope that there will be a normal, loving young adult who walks out the other side of all of that drama. 

I am so not ready for this.