We found a box of some of my old diaries, and they are ah-mazing! First, I've learned a few things have, sadly, not changed that much since I was nine years old. Obviously I couldn't spell, but you already knew that. Also, I have a very hard time keeping diaries. It is truly a miracle that this blog has lasted as long as it has.
Here is an example of both findings:
"April 7, 1996
Dear Diary,
This is probobly my 3red attempt at keeping a "Diary". I haven't ever been able to keep writting in one for long, but maybe this time. I can't spell to well so exuse mis-spelled words, (my teachers usally do). Also if I skip a day or two exuse that. I'm very busy you know."
I still think many of those words should actually be spelled that way, and sometimes do. Especially "writting," which should have two t's. Also, I remain very busy, you know.
Anyway, also in that entry, the reader learns I have a boyfriend, Keith Smith. "He's shorter than me, but I really and truely don't care and neither does he so who cares what other people think any way? Besides he'll grow over the summer." Sadly for Keith, that did not come true and he remains rather short to this day.
Then, 11 days later, the next entry:
"April 18, 1996
Dear Diary (It's gonna be long),
Today so many things happend so I'll have to go in the order they happend so I don't leave anything out. Well I didn't wear my new out fit today because it was to cold."
What? Of all the things that happened, that's what I lead with? Other things that happened that day were "langwige" class was cool and Keith gave me a bunny ("which I later named Bernarde") with a "Russal Stovers" candy box tied to its chest ("little box 4 chocalates"). Such an exciting day! It was love!
Sadly, our love was not to last though, me and Keith Smith. He must have broken up with me some time at the end of April. You would think this would have been a long, sad entry, but there's nothing. Only this short, but triumphant entry from May 9, 1996:
"Dear Diary, Today was the anniual trash pick -up and Keith was in my group! Well, it wasn't like I talked to him (whew!). But all my friends were rude to him when he talked to them. I didn't even ask them to. I guess when a guy brakes up with you he breaks up with all your friends too!!"
True that, sister!
Another theme is that in the period of me keeping up with each diary, for a while I am unfailing at keeping the entries regular- to the point of writing weekly summaries when I didn't have time to write every day. Or, as in this entry, when it is inconvenient for both me and the people around me:
"February 3, 1995
Dear D (diary was a hard word),
Carla is spending the night (yes!!), Pippy is gone and I'm sitting on the pot. (WHAT? What? What are you doing? Why are you sitting on the pot writing in your diary when you have a friend over? Where is she?) Carla's in the other room asking "Are you almost done?"
So there you go, militant vigilance at keeping the blog...I mean diary, for a while.
But when I wasn't, I was very guilty and apologetic:
"May 7, 1996
Dear Diary,
WOW! I'm SO sorry it's been a month! But I just couldn't find the time to write in you! (What was I doing? Just one year ago I was willing to write while pretending to poop while a friend was over. What happened to my dedication?) I'm SO sorry. I'll try to fill you in. I won't let it happen again. (Okay good. You're forgiven So what have we missed?) Well, last month we had to make a castle in Social Studies. Mine was so good."
Sigh.
The last thing I learned is that I had a deep burning belief that my writings would become famous and be passed down from generation to generation (there are many references to my "children, grand-children and great grand-children" reading a particular entry). In actuality though, they're pretty boring. Just a lot of things about what I did that day or week.
So to recap, in the early 90s I couldn't spell, had a need to write on a schedule, had terrible guilt when I didn't and the hope that my mediocre writing would be discovered and make me famous.
So, yeah.
On the bright side, there are some pretty bad ass drawings:
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I feel like I had VERY similar diary entries. I would name my diary...and would always start with cool things like "Wat is up, down, and around?" Because I thought the Diary (named Michelle or Becky or Madeline) would respond? Maybe? And why did we always appologize for not writing for a while? Because obviously they would be mad? The best part about my journals/diary...is that sometimes I would lie to them. Like...what?? Why would I need to tell my fake paper friend a story?? Sigh. Life was tough as a 10 year old.
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