M & D came drove down from Oregon last month and brought me a bunch of "private" things I had locked up in a desk that got passed along to a new family. Turns out all my "private" things consist of a) Ex-boyfriend stuff, b) old prescriptions, c) Cd's that I bought and didn't want to share?, and d) Journals.
I love my journals.
I have ~10 entries from age 11 that are ridiculous. Eventually I'll get around to posting a couple of them because they are truly hilarious and I'm sure everyone can relate to having her mother "steal" her collection of beanie babies. Right?
Other news is I have approximately 1 journal entry for every 2 days junior-senior year of high school. That means every person I ever even TALKED to in these 2 years has their own biography in my journal. I also have every painful detail of my adolescent years, from best friends to ex-friends to boyfriends and crushes and teachers I hate and everything in-between. It is painfully embarrassing and seriously one of the most addicting books I've ever read. Josh and I have been reading through all my teenage angst and laughing at my ridiculous Catalogue of Friends every month (like Homer's catalogue of ships or women) and that at least once a week I end with "it's 8:45! I gotta go to bed!" or "I should probably kill myself. Night." Remember that drama?
It's intense. So...I think I might try blogging some of the less embarrassing entries, if for nothing other than reminding you that there is NOTHING sane about high school.
ps. For all ya'll wondering, I wasn't ever suicidal, but for some inexplicable reason I thought it was a good way to sum up my feelings.
OH! OH! AND I have a journal entry that talks about this "new thing called Myspace".