I couldn't think of anything to write tonight for the blog, since I'm busy with some other stuff and my brain is all occupied with that. So I figured I'd do a Part 2 to a successful old blog post, Ruthlessly Making Fun of My Past Self. I have plenty of old notebooks full of terrible writing excerpts and dramatic moments from my middle school and high school years. So I'm just going to rifle through a few and let you guys enjoy the cringe-y-ness.
First, a notebook from the summer I turned fourteen. Let's see what I find...
And on the first page I get this:
"[rant about how I don't want to use a spiral notebook but I'm using one anyway] And I just can't waste all this beautiful, crisp, blank new lined paper. Fantastic, the idiocy of spiral is affecting me already. Look at all those adjectives! I feel like Stephenie Meyer, leaning on word padding to fuel my sick career. Maybe I should take a leaf out of ol' Stephenie's book and write vampire fluff. G-d knows writing well hasn't gotten me anywhere."
(I never wrote "God" with the "o" because I thought it was evil)
I would love to explain to you what my deal was with spiral notebooks but I don't remember. I just hated them for some reason. And I hated Twilight, because that was the cool thing to do back then.
OK, a few more pages of nonsense and then... if you're any good at French be prepared to facepalm:
"Aujord'hui en midi, je vais en voiture en bibliotheque. J'aime lire! C'est fun! C'est non fun etudier le francais en ete. Mais, I need to. It's almost the end of July! School is rapidly approaching."
And then my usual excerpt, that appears in like every notebook from this time period, about how special I was:
"Whatevs. I spend my time making bruschetta, listening to Beethoven, and reading about Michelangelo. Whereas the average teen would be partying and doing drugs or whatever."
Naturally after that I don't say anything too entertaining, so let me find something else because I would never want you, my dear readers, to suffer being bored...
Aha! An old notebook from eighth grade that I wrote in school. Fun story about this coming excerpt: I made the mistake of doing a group project with this girl who didn't care about school, and I worked really hard on my part of the project, and she completely didn't even try. The morning it was due, she said she'd done NOTHING, so I took her to the library and started desperately printing stuff and then I saw that she was calmly wasting time on the Internet. So naturally, I decided that I needed to vent my anger in my notebook... In my edgy, cool way...
"I'm furious! Murderous! I shall WILLINGLY MURDER HER! I'm positively LIVID! I DID MORE THAN MY SHARE, AND SHE DID NOTHING AND I'M PAYING THE PRICE! I DON'T WANT TO SEE HER CHEATING LITTLE FACE EVER! AGAIN! I HOPE SHE DIES, PAINFULLY! AND BURNS IN TARTARUS!"
So, just a disclaimer, I'm not homicidal, nor was I ever, but I thought that the cool, nonconformist way to get angry at people was to threaten to throw them in Tartarus. Fine. However, this girl later read my journal, and gave me this look which let me know which passage she had read. Needless to say, we're not friends anymore.
In the back of this same notebook, I found a token to my writer self:
"My way-too-insane novel idea: Francisco Melezzo, a former Aztec pretending to be a"
And then it cuts off. I guess we'll never know what way-too-insane novel I might have unleashed on the world.
Ooh, this one really relates to my life even now: "Wouldn't it be nice to attend a school with such luxuries as air conditioners?" LOOKING AT YOU, SARAH LAWRENCE COLLEGE.
OK, last one, and this one just sums up my worldview in eighth grade:
"Today [Mom] threatens dress shopping. Tragic. My planner exploded. Tragic... but expected."
There you go, everyone. Nothing too insightful, but I sure did write some ridiculous things in my eighth grade journals.
See you this Saturday when hopefully I will actually have a new experience post for you guys,