It is a truly frightening document that begins at age 12 with the words:
"A few days ago I met v down at the Hostie. She seemed delighted to see me and told me that I was invited to her party. It was to be from 7.30 to 11.30 and C was coming too.
Judging from V's past social experience, I'd say there were boys coming..."
and ends at 17, the night before the HSC exams, with:
"Who's afraid of V Woolf?"
and in between: sheer undiluted ghastliness.
I love it!
Anyone else want to share?
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9 comments:
I'm cleaning out some storage at my mom's house this weekend, so I might have a contribution soon. I seem to recall most of my junior-high-aged diaries focusing on who I loooooved and sprinkled with lots of hearts. Maybe even used as dots over the "i"s. We'll see if the memory holds true...
Sounds like the potential for a real goldmine there Cass, my fingers are crossed!
Mine is in the attic, but I have to go up there anyway so I'll find it. It's even in the box I need to get into -- kismet.
Luckily mine are hidden in a trunk in a storage unit! As I was at an all girls boarding school any talk of boys therein is entirely fiction...
First line: I am 13.
"We are in England visiting my grandparents. At least they didn't sell my bike."
To my knowledge, my grandparents never sold anything of mine, so I have no earthly idea what that means.
And it pretty much ends with.
"I didn't know he was a borstal boy."
And a little story follows.
And I bet that's a very interesting little story indeed!
Not fascinatingly interesting, I mean I was only 13. But there was a borstal in Chelmsford where my g-parents lived. And when I brought my new friend home to tea the silence was palpable.
Hell, he was wearing a tie, which to me meant he was strangely adult. Turns out, borstal boys with town privileges had to wear their, um, uniform, which included an identifying tie.
Who knew?
Mine actually makes me cringe when re-reading. In particular my thirteen year old self goes into great detail about the first kiss and an embarrassing crush on the shortest boy in my class.
I searched for my high school diaries recently, and they are missing. This kind of freaks me out, but it's also kind of a relief.
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