Hello holy cow it’s Friday! This has been the work week from “you know where”, seriously. This would be my quick explanation as to why I said on my last post that I was going to write again the next day, and haven’t until just now.
I would like to take this opportunity to tell you about a series of posts that I am going to begin writing, titled as above, “This week, when I was eleven…” I have kept a diary since I can remember, but I have only held onto 5 of them for all these years (ha, I sound like I’m 80 in that sentence). It spans the ages 11-17. It amazes me that I kept them, and that I have this insight into the mind of a young Melissa. Through ups and downs, milestones, “firsts”, teenage angst, all of it. On these pages are some of the most personal and private moments that I went through as a young girl, and quite frankly – it scared the crap of out me to read it.
When I first realized that I had pages and pages of my childhood written by my own hand, upstairs in storage, I was so excited! This would help me understand the things Claire was going through since she is the age now that I was when I began to keep a daily (usually) record of my life. So over a couple of evenings I sat and read each entry, sometimes out loud if they were particularly funny and I felt the need to force Mark to listen. He was nice, he humored me even though he didn’t get it. It’s usually a case of “I guess you had to be there” when you try to convey the memories that you hold so dear and remember as being the funniest thing that every happened to you! Like, in a million years! (Yikes, the teenage dialect is starting to sneak back in, I’ll try to avoid that). I thought immediately how fun it would be to put them on the blog and share them with the world! Surely people want to read it, I know if I came across a blog with diary entries from the writer’s childhood I would enjoy reading them! I thought it over for a while with the intention of beginning it on February 1st since that is the day I started, back in 1989. I couldn’t decide if it was a good idea or not. I ran it by my family and nobody seemed opposed to the idea, although my Mother did comment, “I won’t be reading it”. This made me consider creating an entirely different blog dedicated to nothing but diary entries, so that way she could still come to this one and not worry about reading something she didn’t want to read. I’m not entirely sure what she thinks she’ll find, but now that I have read through all of it, I can understand. But I was afraid that if I had two blogs than one would definitely get neglected, there’s no way I could keep up both!
So here we are, halfway through April and I think I have made a decision.
I will post my diary entries from when I was 11 and possibly through to 13. But I believe that will be it. As I got to the pages of my years in high school where I made some less than admirable choices and still somehow managed to stay “good” in my parents eyes, it hit me. I could not possibly type these words and share them without feeling a little bit embarassed. And I’m not sure that’s the tone I’d like to set for this happy blog that we work hard to create and maintain, for both our enjoyment and yours.
I’m sure by now you may be a little intrigued and curious about what I did that could warrant all of these feelings and decisions. I was a very good teenager, I don’t feel that I was doing anything more than anyone else. In fact, I think that it would make a really interesting book, with made up characters and maybe tweak the plot just a little to add some mystery. I was never very good at being mysterious. I was really quite predictable, wore my heart on my sleeve, you can probably guess where I’m going with that. I have always been a hopeless romantic and most of my life I have been a bit boy crazy. So there are a lot of “I hearts’ scattered across the pages and it’s pretty ridiculous. What more can I say? As always, feel free to leave your thoughts in the form of a comment.
My diary had some questionnaire type pages in the front, so I’ve included those as well. In order to catch up to present day, but 21 years ago (choking on that number, yikes, give me a sec)… I will post all of February this week, March next week and April the following week which should put us right on schedule. Then I’ll be posting once a week, with the weeks’ worth of entries. This should be quite entertaining for you. And I decided that I’ll need to add some commentary afterwards so that you know what’s going on and who’s who. It will be fun, you’ll see.
Last year Mark asked me if I remembered the movie “The Monster Squad” and I didn’t. So he put it on our netflix and we watched it together. I started to remember as it began and it turns out, I listed it as a “favorite” when I was 11. I knew that.
I like how I didn’t have a “worst” gift I had ever recieved, but I could list 3 of the “worst” teachers I ever had.
Why was I vacationing in a Laundromat in Newport, you ask? Let me tell you what I remember of this incident. We were on our yearly one week family vacation (we alternated between the coast and camping in the mountains). We were doing laundry at a laundromat in Newport. A man with long shaggy hair comes running up to the door of the laundromat, holding his stomach and bleeding. I have no idea what actually happened but I remember knowing that he was stabbed. Mom? Perhaps you recall? I was probably in the 3rd or 4th grade so my memories are a little foggy.
I have no idea what book “6 on easy street” was but it just doesn’t sound like it would be appropriate for a 6th grader to read. I’ll take my word for it though, I’m sure it was awful.
M.A.L.T. stood for Melissa, Alison, Lyndee and Tricia. We were a fierce foursome of 6th grade girls. We owned the four swings at recess. Owned. The way I remember it, little kids immediately jumped off the swing and ran when they saw the four of us moving across the school lawn. I’m sure it was that dramatic. We also made up names, I was Mercedes and the rest were Bianca, Veronica and another that I cannot remember. My memory is going, I’m getting old.
I played a lot of sports growing up, and it’s currently basketball season. Shanna stood literally one foot taller than me, she was also two grades older. She was the only reason why we won, when we did win, which was very rare.
Dan was my first real boyfriend. He was a year older. He had a curly mullet. He may still have it, it’s been over 10 years since I’ve seen him. He still lives in the little town we grew up in.
Tricia was the friend who taught me all the bad stuff, like drinking, sneaking out and cigarettes. Gross! Not in the sixth grade though don’t worry… that all comes later.
Michael Jay, I’d like to apologize for that comment. I’m sure you weren’t that gross.