Confessions of a Middle Schooler

I've always known my middle school diary was a fricken gold mine of embarrassment. So much so that occasionally I host author readings for my friends. They still reference and/or quote my youthful self...which leads me to worry that one day, this is all I'll be remembered for. Second, as most of you know, I have this strange compulsion to share my most embarrassing moments with people (sometimes strangers, just for the sake of conversation). It's like chronic diarrhea. Not that I know what that is! Third, what is a blog if not an online diary with an audience? Especially with the way I write. And a diary within a diary... how meta.

So, tonight, I flipped through a blue diary made of faux, dark-wash, denim material with a giant, pink, sparkly butterfly on it (UGH!) and pulled out some quotes that made me laugh outright. As you will see, LITTLE HAS CHANGED!

"Went shopping and bought the cutest split cuff jeans. If that doesn't impress Tim than I don't know what will!"

If I recall correctly, I paired these jeans with a red shirt that had the word FLIRT across the chest. I'm actually puzzled as to why Tim wasn't impressed. Come on, Tim! I was clearly laying it all on the table! 

"I think my cat is a lesbian. She always stares at me-- No, she ALWAYS stares at me."

I still question my cat's sexuality. Especially because she's been known to terrorize all my male friends. Also, she'd stare at me the way my boy band posters would stare at me when I was getting dressed. 

"Then we went home and there was this dog following us to the gate. My mom slammed the gate in the poor dog's face-- I feel terrible! I hate myself sometimes. We also saw OCEAN'S 11 and I just realized how hot BRAD PITT is!!"

Could this get anymore bipolar?! One minute I'm hating myself (for something I didn't even do...) and then next I'm excitedly drooling over an actor. This reminds me of a theory I heard about boy's brains. Supposedly, they are like waffles-- Each activity/ action is a square and boys need to completely satisfy their square before moving on to another one? Something like that. That's why little boys never stop and clean up when you tell them to stop and clean up. Now, imagine my little brain...covered in a million fireflies. That's what I picture.  

"I like this dude on the internet."

Classic middle school  love. Earlier in my diary, I warned myself against the internet because it was full of "pervs." Apparently, I'm terrible at taking my own advice!

"AH. IT REALLY BUGS ME WHEN I THINK ABOUT HOW SHALLOW I AM, YA KNOW?! ALL I DO IS TALK ABOUT BOYS FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!"

-next page-

"Finally! I have come to a conclusion. I like guys who: are cute (or close) and make me laugh."

Yes, it is embarrassing that I have three years of being obsessed with boys well documented. I suppose I blame my mom for not forcing me to take up hobbies. I was just filling a void. (OH, that is SO what she said!)

"P.S. I love no one but God."

Awkward. I wouldn't be surprised if I had a crush-crush on God. And then blocked it out. 

"I'm in high school! Two words: HOT SENIORS!"

Nowadays it's more like "Three words: HOT SENIOR CITIZENS!" hahah ouchhh, self-inflicted burn!

Certainly, things get more awkward and embarrassing in my diary. But I can't air all my dirty laundry on our first date (first and last, probably)! But I've given you all enough material to be able to talk about me at my funeral... I'll also leave it up to you as to what gets chiseled on my tombstone. (Personally, my vote is on "I like a dude on the internet." Pretty much sums me up. Also because the internet will probably be the death of me.)