This is my journal from 7th to 9th grade. After this one I got one of these big canvas covered sketchbooks each year and filled it up with angst. I grew up in the mountains of Santa Cruz in a tiny town called Felton- a mix of hippies and mountain folks with one high school and plenty of witch supply, rock (yes, rock), and health food stores. I thought I would share another glimpse into my 14 year old psyche, simply because it’s hilarious and these books can’t go to waste. Check out the song I wrote in the same journal here.
Today we will go back to 2002. I have changed some names to save myself from further embarrassment. Sorry Mary-Lynn and Kim, you guys will be publicly associated with me. These two wonderful girls were my crew at the time and are still my best friends.
A few notes to prepare you for this…. Please, forgive me for being ignorant and mean at 14. It’s really embarrassing how unkind I could be, but it was worth it to share the real deal with you all. And also I had this thing where I talked to the reader of my journal sometimes, which doesn’t make any sense since these were my deepest darkest thoughts. So in the beginning paragraph I’m talking to you, the reader. For some reason. Anyway, here goes.
February 16, 2002 ~ 10:50 pm ~ Sunday
No, I really know what you’re thinking. Here’s you: “Oh, boo-hoo, I bet you had a horrible Valentine’s Day, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll make everyone cry for you!” And yes, I know I feel sorry for myself, but isn’t that what journals are for? So if ya don’t like it, stop reading! But, if you would like 2 know, I had a great Valentine’s Day! No, no one asked me out, I’m no ML (but no one asked her out, either!). But I just was having fun without a boy. So good 4 me!
Okay, time 4 more whining:
So I don’t know if guys consider me or if they laugh @ the thought of even considering me. But I want a boyfriend. I don’t know if it’s flirting that’s the key (which I don’t know how to do), or if I just don’t talk to any guys or something, or who knows. But I’ve thought of changing my image, my clothes, my friends, but never would consider acting on any of those things, or changing myself to fit a boy’s fantasy. Okay, I don’t think I want to be a boy’s “fantasy”, that’s a little bit 2 far, scratch it. But I want a boy to like me. So what do I do? Just be myself and screw any boy who doesn’t want me. That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to talk to boys I consider, and be more outgoing with them, but it does mean that I will stay how I am!!! Praise the Lord!!! Hee hee.
Oh yeah, @ the last dance that was recently held I wore my new Moulin Rouge shirt and I wore my hair really cool (everyone liked it). Example:
It was cool, despite the example. It was really fun, except Bernard asked me to dance! Ugh. He’s a frog!!! I know, I know. “Well, it’s what you asked 4, someone 2 like ya!?” SHUT UP!!! Uno what I meant. And I’m not trying to be mean or a dumb teenager, but Puh-huh! Geez. No. I didn’t give him ANY signals or anything. Poopiss. But what’s in the past is in the past. I still want a boy.
Hey, uno how I say that Ethel and peeps hate me? Well, I think they really do. I was hanging out with ML and Kim @ lunch, and we were laughin, and all of a sudden I look over and see Ethel and Francis STARING @ me. Like full-on glaring! So I look back @ them, and kinda laugh, and they act like they don’t notice! Okay. So I even wave @ them and they just keep on glaring until Ethel snaps out of it and yells, “Ew, you’re so gross!” @ Francis, and they laugh and walk away. Interesting. Interesting experiences of mine. And yet, she still borrows markers from me. Hmmm. Why would they have any reason to hate me? I never talk to them or bother them. Bitches. Someday I’ll just flat out ask em, “Why don’t you like me, again?” See what they look like, then.
Why do I feel so out of place? I feel so different from everyone, yet so the same that no one notices me. How come one minute I feel like people mistake me for air, the next, everyone hates me? Kim feels sorry for herself, puh-huh. ML feels sorry 4 herself!! Geez! But everyone feels sorry for themselves. They don’t consider people’s lives worse than theirs. Like me. Not that I’m the worse life, I’m the one who feels sorry for herself all the time. But that’s what this paper is for. I don’t go around saying to homeless people, “Whywhywhy why why why don’t I have a boyfriend!!!!!!!?” I let it out with this stupid pen.
I saw Crossroads and I gave it a B-. On the other hand, A Walk 2 Remember was given an A-, and the minus is just 4 the “deer in the headlights look” that Mandy Moore gave the audience every ten seconds. Good Night.
Okay, so I hope you had the same hilarious inner dialogue that I had as I read that. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who felt super paranoid at that age. Or I hope I wasn’t. How did I live each day being like, “Those girls are looking in my direction. THOSE BITCHES HATE ME AND NO MORE MARKERS FOR YOU”? I mostly just feel sorry for myself (haha still) at that age. I remember being acutely aware of not being able to control how crazy I was. And I remember being desperate to not be so lame and dramatic but I didn’t know how to stop. I really hated high school. It was so hard trying to be a normal, emotionally stable human being when nothing seemed like it was in your control. It helps having these journals to remind myself how hard kids have it. Hopefully it will make me more sympathetic when my niece and nephew get there. Plus it’s fun to read my most personal and secret thoughts when I was that age and compare myself to who I am now.
A final note: THANK GOD I didn’t have Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Pinterest, ANY of it. You know it would just be an emo fiasco all over the internet that would never go away.
If you have journals, PLEASE share an awesome quote or two in the comments. This stuff is just gold, it’s my absolute favorite. Also, did you like high school? Do you feel like the person you are now was in there somewhere inside that crazy teenager?