Friday, September 01, 2006

Dear Diary

My parents sent me a box of my high school diaries this week. I was suspicious, as I had taken the extra precaution of writing my innermost thoughts and feelings in journals with a fabric cover, under the assumption that if anybody came upon it, they'd bypass the whole smash because it didn't have the little leather binding with DIARY emblazoned on the front as most other girls' did. Amateurs!

"You didn't read any of them, did you?" I asked my mother.

She said she hadn't, because as it turns out I had also taken the security measure of writing them out by hand, rendering the whole lot illegible to the rest of the human race.

I paged through some last night. It's not exactly Anne Frank. Most detail the comings and goings of certain gentlemen upon whom I had large, embarrassing crushes and whether or not they deigned to look in my general direction. So if my entire generation is snuffed out and all that remains are these little books, posterity can at least rest securely in the knowledge that on June 21, 1993, I ran into Mike Shaw at the snack bar and we conducted a 42-second conversation about the Reds and he totally said "See you around."

Most of these detail the latter years of the high school experience, which means there are descriptions of many geometry tests and wailing "What am I going to do? What am I going to do?" two days before graduation. You're going to wear clothing of your own choice, that's what.

One entire book is dedicated to recording nothing but a play-by-play analysis of every thrilling moment of a state Mock Trial competition. Actual sentence: "Mock Trial is a part of my very being." Another actual sentence: "Boy, do I need help." Sadly, they do not appear in the same entry.

Some moments from my senior year contained touches of kindness I had forgotten about, the slow unfolding of finding social acceptance for the first time in my life, the wonder of friend tying to my locker a mylar balloon with a picture of Tom Cruise in A Few Good Men at the end of the string the day I made the Mock Trial team. So ten years later, I got to wrap myself in warm fuzzies all over again.

It is good that I'm journaling again, only this time in a slightly more legible fashion, with pictures and timestamps and comments from cool random people in Australia. Moments such as these must be forever preserved.

saving it all for the smithsonian at:


HelloBettyLou said...

I recently went through my old journals too. Ahh, growing up. It sucks, don't it?

Also, whoohoo, first comment!

Shetland Pony said...

I love this. It brought back sooo many memories...

mike, law and order fanatic said...

I was in Mock Trial. I was a much better witness than a lawyer.

I spent most of the first year as the star witness, who, although written gender-neutrally, was clearly a more female character. Everyone else on my team thought it would be a grand idea if I interpreted the role as that of a gay man who lost his lover in a household accident. I refused.

We made the state finals three times, though. And I'm pretty sure I and my roommates at state were the reason why the finals are no longer held at Purdue University. We kinda . . . trashed the place. :)

MB said...

Best Attorney, every single time I walked into the courtroom, which would be five. Five Best Attorney awards, two at the state level. Because I know what men want in a woman. You know it's totally on my resume.

tamar said...

LOL! I have been remebering the 'flowery skirt' incident of '05, meaning to look it up, to read to my DH. I clicked on that link, not knowing what to expect, and LMAO when I saw what it was. SERIOUSLY, I have been meaning to check the archives, just hadn't got to it yet.

Thank you for saving me 40 seconds or so of work. :)

(This doesn't mean that you are a dork, just that I'm a dork for remembering this.)


MB said...

"to read to my DH"

You have your very own designated hitter? That's outstanding.

Carrie said...

Hold on here - if anyone is going to talk MT with MB that would be me, her co-counsel. I watched that girl hyperventilate in to a paper bag each week and then come out and kick a$$ each time.

Hey MB, open a can of whoop a$$.

MB said...

I was hoping you'd chime in, Shapiro-- you who had the much more difficult task of cross-examination and always rocked the house. I still have that can the girls gave us!

Carrie said...

I still have the signs you made for our lockers! Darn Holly Roller and her groups of curfew breaking do-gooders.

tamar said...

LOL! I was referring to my 'Dear Husband', but designated hitter is just as apt of a name for him. Whenever I need back up, he's there for me. :)

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