last night i thumbed through a few items in the first box of two that my dad gave me of childhood memorabilia. there was the homework; reports, stories, and papers...mostly A's, but pretty formulaic. and then there were the art projects: drawings, drawings, and more drawings...then the odds and ends: a mold of my crooked-ass growing teeth, certificates, my favorite books, a papa murphy's nametag.. there are a few gems: handwritten, illustrated bound books from when i was in elementary and middle school, revealing the bizarre imaginary mindscape of yours truly. above all, the real discovery was a little turquoise spiral notebook, maybe three by four inches with a teddy bear and roller-skates cover, containing four haphazard diary entries. i was ten. here are a few ridiculous excerpts from april 23, 1990:
"dear diary, yesterday i learned that i am getting breasts. it is pretty depressing, even though i should be glad."
"...i'm having a hard time with everything. the worst one is boys. i can't decide on a boy to like. as you know, i used to like nathan. but now i cant decide between nathan, brandt, geremy, turner, mitch, ian, andy, the list goes on and on..."
"track is great! i love it, it's so fun! i think i'm best at sprints. my mom says that i've got strong legs and she says i get them from my pogo stick. i've dressed up my teddy bear to look like stevie wonder, pretty amazing, but he resembles him very much. well bye, jessica b."