Even after you get the kids out you are still stuck with their stuff. Thank goodness mom hasn't been charging storage all of these years. Thirteen years later I have finally been reunited with many precious mementos that I just didn't have space for until now. How crazy is it that so many childhood memories fit into two plastic bins? It's like my own personal time capsule.
|My first two Diaries|
Among the treasures my most prized are my journals. All 16 of 'em dating back to 1986 when I was 9 years old. The Cabbage Patch Kids Diary was my first and the last one ends in 2003. That's 17 years. Half of my life is documented between those pages. As I skimmed a journal from 1990 my Freshman year high school schedule fell out. It's all there. Every dream, every hope and every fear. The tears I shed and the joys I felt are all documented in my bubbly cursive writing which actually hasn't change all that much. I lived for Pizza, slumber parties, reading books, cheerleading and gymnastics. I believed that having a boyfriend and getting asked to homecoming would somehow change my life. There are so many things I'd forgotten about. I had a pen pal from Michigan and I used to sleep with my little sis when she was 2 years old to make sure she got to sleep. We had Pizza for dinner a lot, I went to a million slumber parties and there always seemed to be some big to do between my parents about if I would be allowed to go camping again with Beth or go to Chelsea's house.
|17 years worth of written journals|
Dear Diary, Today was ok. I got in trouble because I didn't want Jennifer to ride my bike. My mom made me go to my room and I went upstairs and listened to music and I felt like running away. Bye.
April 5, 1987 (age 10)
Dear Diary, For my birthday I got a pound puppy, doll, Cabbage Patch clothes, Uno game, school kit, barbie clothes, two pencils, a ball and perfume. My party was fun. We played games.
January 2, 1990 (age 13)
In Family Life we're studying Human Sexuality. It's kind of embarrassing.
January 13, 1990
Mommy and Daddy got doughnuts when they went grocery shopping. Yum! I want to have a slumber party for my birthday. I worked the whole thing out on paper.
November 25, 1990
The things I want most for Christmas is a bedspread set for my day bed, head phones, overnight bag, Caboodle, Gymnast series books and my own room.
May 20th 1991 (age 14)
I MADE IT!! I'M A CHEERLEADER. I have been waiting all year for this. I'm a JV Cheerleader! I'm so happy.
September 19, 1992 (age 15)
We had to pull over at a gas station so that Ryan could finish throwing up. I'm never getting drunk. NO WAY!! It is not worth it.
September 24, 1992
I want him to ask me to dance sooooooo bad. Then maybe he'll like me.
April 21, 1993 (age 16)
I'm a major teacher's pet in History. It's embarrassing. Today he said everyone had to put away their news paper but me because I could do whatever I want.
April 26, 1993
It's probably going to be too scary for me to ever kiss a boy.
March 9, 1994
What's the point of me having my license if mom's too afraid to let me drive anywhere?
May 22, 1994 (age 17)
My body was hurting so much. It was an awesome gymnastics meet though. It was sad when they called all the Seniors walk out. I almost cried. This was my last meet. It felt so good to go up there and get medals. Then to be CIF Champ is amazing. I can't believe it really happened. I worked so hard for this.
I never stopped writing. I just stopped doing it on paper and started doing it online. It's just always been something I wanted and needed to do. In 2003 where the paper journals end I started a private online Diary. I skipped over to My Space in 2005 and started blogging before it was even called blogging. In 2009 I discovered Blogger and have been happily settled over here ever since. I migrated all of my old Diaryland and My Space entries into a private blog over here so all of my thoughts are now in one place. I have my public blog that everyone sees but I still have my private blog for my eyes only where I continue to record my thoughts. It's amazing to read how far I've come and almost scary that there are so many things that I simply would have forgotten about had I not written it all down. I think I missed my calling. I should've been a writer. Or, maybe I already am.