Okay, so guess what I just found.
Go ahead, guess.
Okay, I'll tell you:
I just found, lurking on a closet shelf behind my wedding veil (which I refuse to get rid of because of the completely awesome Halloween costume potential), my old junior high journal.
Uh huh.
Hilarious. Painful. Embarrassing. Melodramatic.
Awesome.
Just in case you didn't believe me when I told you how delightfully geeky I was (and continue to be), here's a little taste.
My friend Meridth gave me the journal at my twelfth birthday party. She wrote my name in fancy calligraphy: Andrea Gale, 11/15/91. Your my bestest friend, your very special to me! Love, Meridth. And she drew a little paw print next to her name.
Nice, right? Yeah, except for it's scratched out. And then I've copied the same wording above the scratched out part, and at the bottom I wrote: I crossed it out when I was mad at Meridth. I'm not anymore. Sorry, Meridth.
So, I guess I must have thought my journal was some sort of portal to the outside world accessible to all those close to me, and that's why I needed to right the cosmic wrong I had committed by scribbling out Meridth's well wishes. Go figure.
This journal also marks my first attempts at free thinking, as evidenced by my first entry: Since this is a diary and not a journal, I will write when I feel like it.
I mean, that's something, right? I didn't even date it. What a rebel. The next few entries also lack dates, like that somehow reinforced the whole "diary and not a journal" idea. Also I'm pretty sure that doesn't make any sense. Whatever. I was twelve.
The last entry on the page pretty much sums up my adolescence:
I am feeling better today. I have made up my mind to be very (as) glamorous as possible. I plan to grow my hair long- real long. I found a cute hairstyle today.
And that, too, is scribbled out. I have this vague memory of reading that paragraph and being horrified. I even have a vague memory of scribbling it out.
I love it.
I love that at the age of twelve, when I weighed maybe eighty five pounds soaking wet and had braces and had to wear neck gear, that I had this unconquerable desire for glamour. It just seems really Don Quixote of me. And I love that at some point, I re-read that entry and was horrified.
I mean, it is pretty awful. Right there, in black and white, in the cursive writing that I used in junior high and only in junior high, the uncensored longing of my past, and the hilariously unsuccessful attempt to erase it.
It's like seeing two versions of myself at once. And then, I turn the page:
I am going to write a sequel to "The Music Man". Nobody must know about it, and Stephanie must promise to keep my secret. It may take years, but i will finish it. It is to be called "Marian". I feel good and warm and happy. O, it might have been!
Yep.
Whatever. I was twelve.
8 comments:
You were twelve, but also, you were awesome.
You are no longer twelve, but the awesomeness remains.
I dont have a clue who you are, nor do you me. However, your blog makes me laugh.
Dont worry, I am not a blog-stalker. I will tell you when I am learking....
Ahem- Learking...
I LOVED you when you were twelve! And I agree with Jenn. Awesomeness is a constant. :-)
Hehehe. Andrea I was going to call you back today. This very honest JR High stuff delights me. It cracks me up to no end that my 12 year old love was rejected.
As an adult I don't remember any of this. I know I have a really bad memory. All I remember is that there was drama. Thank goodness for the journals so we can relish in it these days.
ps. I do remember very specifically thinking that you were glamorous and that I was not. (I think I still fit in that category.)
I've missed your entries...
and when I was 12 I, too, kept a journal, however it was more about Star Trek (the original TV series) then glamor. Although I must admit if Kirk had asked me out I would not have rejected him. (reference to Ed Asner).
redstarmama- you're too kind. but thanks for being too kind. i kind of love that about you.
boulter trouble- nice to meet you! you may, ahem, leark away, my friend. pull up a chair. put your feet up. eat some chocolate.
andersons- dude, do you remember making toilet paper dresses at my house? because i totally just remembered that and had a strange and immediate desire to replicate that event. also give your cute kids a squeeze from me. and you. give yourself a squeeze too. from me. i forgot that part.
meridth- well, it has a happy ending. the rejection totally ended, hence the scribbling in. i think you may have partaken in the toilet paper dresses activity, and i would like to formally apologize for that. and thank you for your continuing awesomeness. because you are awesome.
marianne- so, you're a trekkie? no way, i totally didn't see that coming! i am kind of loving that. and i have every intention of teasing you about that the next time i talk to you. love you!
Andrea, you will write that sequel someday and you will be a famous writer... a famous published writer...
of THAT I know and I will not keep that secret either! :} Thanks for the chocolate!
bookwormama- dude, i totally watched the music man the other day and was like, yeah. i totally still love this movie. also my sequel was pretty much the plot to the old movie the ghost and mrs. muir. so it's just as well. plagiarism can really ruin your career.
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