Publish or Perish

Previous Entry from my mixed up journals.

November 10, 1990
Saturday

Man, why do all the guys I like are either popular (out of my reach) or hopeless?

It doesn't make sense. Why can't I have both? If I did I would be _____ ______. The guys I've liked in the past been out of my reach.

So, let's see. In 1990 I was just about to turn thirteen. I'm not quite sure who I was writing about in that angsty little entry, but there are guesses. And yes, I have written about one of the guesses.

Wow, was I dull girl.

Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure I echoed this sentiment when I was 20. And yes, it probably was just about as angsty and long winded. Let's see what else I had to say in Journal #5.

April 25, 1991
Thursday

M____ wasn't there for almost the whole entire play practice. At the end he was there and while I was studying, listening to the teacher, he came up behind me and ran his fingers from the small of my back and up my spine.

"Doesn't that give you chills?" He asked. I went away smiling but thinking he's sick.

When I was going out the school's front door, he poked me in the side. I poked him back.

"You hurt me," I said.

"So?" He said and does it again.

I'm at the flagpole looking for my parents. As I get into the car, Matt says, "Wait! I want to poke you some more!" (sick)

"You're sick! Good bye M____!"

"Good bye, Paperback Writer."


F________ algebra. All the way to h_________! I wish I could shove it up someone's ________! It just ______ me up! Sometimes...


I wish I could be more open. Unfortunately the one who knows the true me is this journal.


Tomorrow T__ comes back. A lot can happen in a week and a half. I found out that I don't like T_____ or C______ anymore. I like M_____ [Really, Paperback Writer? Is that true?!] K___ is my friend and sort of C_________. You know what? I think they like JJ. He reminds me of K__. He's nice and I personally don't know him. Why? Because I don't have any classes with him.

Fascinating, Paperback Writer. Absolutely, fascinating.

*Sigh*

Sometimes, I just don't feel like I've made that much progress since I was thirteen. I don't feel like a responsible grown-up. But I suppose I am.

Anyway, I wonder what M______ is doing. And I wonder if he truly did like me. His actions tell the grown up me otherwise, but the thirteen year old probably couldn't see it. I wonder if any of these people think about me or even remember me...I suppose I'm being very self-centered in wondering, but I do wonder.

In the eighth grade I was really wrapped up in show choir and the school play. I told you I was a geek. :) I'm just more accepting of it now. And judging from what I wrote about, I wrote a lot of gossipy things. But I was 13...

The Journal Set on Flickr.

Labels: journals, me, memories, the past