Jesus Christ on a laminating machine ("I just think the Commandments would look better all shiny and plastic-covered, Dad. Stop riding me!"), today is dull. We are all so bored we might resort to cannibalism just for the rush. In fact, I am so bored, I am going to reveal part one of my epic new undertaking, viz sharing my teenage diary with you. Don't worry. I'm going to cut most of it.
I used to sporadically write a diary. It was my Winnie-the-Pooh journal, which my parents gave me. I was 12 when I got it, and the bulk of the entries are from when I was 12/13. I came across it when I was getting some writing paper for today's letters. And I'd like to say this: OMG READING THE CRAP YOU WROTE AS A TEENAGER IS JUST EMBARRASSING. It's not even emo and fun, it's just boring. But I'm going to share, anyway. PLEASE NOTE I WAS ANNOYING AND IMMATURE AND APPARENTLY QUITE MIS. DO NOT JUDGE ME.
( Read more... )
[1] Chris (who is 2 years younger than me) had been doing Latin since he was 7. Prep schools, eh?
[2] Oh, the tragic irony.
[3] I'm really unclear on why he was "wonder boy ii" and not just "wonder boy" - this epithet will now remain a mystery forever.
[4] I hope this modest dream has now come to pass.
[5] I know. Shocking. It sends little thrills of horror down my spine. I don't think I done anything weird style-wise; I suspect the mockery was due to its ginger hue.
[6] Really? Was she really? I was the most boring 12 year old in existence, there wasn't much anyone could say about me.
[7] As it happens, I passed.
[8] WRONG, TINY PAST SELF!
[9] I assume this was one of those hilariously ridiculous lines ("Goodbye, Vikings") that stays with you but makes absolutely no sense out of context.
[10] Ah, the Star Trek novelisation. I went through a lot of these in my youth. Yesterday's Son was a particular favourite, as it heavily featured Spock.
[11] Enemy Mine was the first Mills & Boon I ever read. I loved it. I still love it. I recently bought a reissued version from Amazon. Still it was the beginning of my literary end.
[12] So. Yeah. Odd, you may be thinking. This doesn't read like her, you may be thinking. Who is this David Crapper?, you may be thinking. Is this an epic romance the likes of which we have never seen, whose twists and turns will lead us on a breathless journey of love and sacrifice?, you may be thinking. The answer is no, this is not an epic romance the likes of which you have never seen. David Crapper lived down the road. He was at Birkdale in the year below Chris. And, in collusion, I suspect, with my dear young brother, he wrote that entry himself (in bright purple ink).
I used to sporadically write a diary. It was my Winnie-the-Pooh journal, which my parents gave me. I was 12 when I got it, and the bulk of the entries are from when I was 12/13. I came across it when I was getting some writing paper for today's letters. And I'd like to say this: OMG READING THE CRAP YOU WROTE AS A TEENAGER IS JUST EMBARRASSING. It's not even emo and fun, it's just boring. But I'm going to share, anyway. PLEASE NOTE I WAS ANNOYING AND IMMATURE AND APPARENTLY QUITE MIS. DO NOT JUDGE ME.
( Read more... )
[1] Chris (who is 2 years younger than me) had been doing Latin since he was 7. Prep schools, eh?
[2] Oh, the tragic irony.
[3] I'm really unclear on why he was "wonder boy ii" and not just "wonder boy" - this epithet will now remain a mystery forever.
[4] I hope this modest dream has now come to pass.
[5] I know. Shocking. It sends little thrills of horror down my spine. I don't think I done anything weird style-wise; I suspect the mockery was due to its ginger hue.
[6] Really? Was she really? I was the most boring 12 year old in existence, there wasn't much anyone could say about me.
[7] As it happens, I passed.
[8] WRONG, TINY PAST SELF!
[9] I assume this was one of those hilariously ridiculous lines ("Goodbye, Vikings") that stays with you but makes absolutely no sense out of context.
[10] Ah, the Star Trek novelisation. I went through a lot of these in my youth. Yesterday's Son was a particular favourite, as it heavily featured Spock.
[11] Enemy Mine was the first Mills & Boon I ever read. I loved it. I still love it. I recently bought a reissued version from Amazon. Still it was the beginning of my literary end.
[12] So. Yeah. Odd, you may be thinking. This doesn't read like her, you may be thinking. Who is this David Crapper?, you may be thinking. Is this an epic romance the likes of which we have never seen, whose twists and turns will lead us on a breathless journey of love and sacrifice?, you may be thinking. The answer is no, this is not an epic romance the likes of which you have never seen. David Crapper lived down the road. He was at Birkdale in the year below Chris. And, in collusion, I suspect, with my dear young brother, he wrote that entry himself (in bright purple ink).