Dear Diary...You're Embarrassing.

Yup. So here they are- my 7th and 8th grade diaries. :::cringe:::

Dear Diary...

Deep within the bags of nostalgia my mama delivered (catch up by reading The Scent of High School), I found myself face to face with the (mortifying) stories of yesteryear. 

Guess I was down with saving inspirational tidbits even then.  I must have clipped this out of an old Rolling Stone.

Well what could I do? Of course, I HAD to re-read every page- like immediately- er...or as soon as I was alone enough to be able to make ugly brow-furling, face-squinting, sucking in air faces in private. You know. 

And, destructive little monster that I was, I seem to have cut up an old book of quotations to selfishly save those which resonated with my hormonal fluctuations.

So what else was IN these books of shudder-worthy embarrassment? Oh, come now people. Innocent until proven guilty? If I were to reveal the contents of these teeny bop pages, far too many assumed innocents would absolutely be proven guilty, and in the decency of my more mature age...my lips are sealed.

Lots of LOVE stories in 7th and 8th grade diaries, huh?

What I can tell you is that I laughed, like a LOT, while reading these absurdities...almost as much as I cringed.

So many tales of long-term middle school romances- you remember, the ones that lasted a week or more. I'd even saved a rose petal from my one month anniversary gift from my 8th grade love. Sweet or creepy? You decide.

Lengthy descriptions of long-term groundings- again, you remember- the ones that lasted a day or more. Oh, the devastation of having phone privileges revoked, of missing a group date to the movie theater, of {GASP} being excluded from a hang sesh down at Villa!

I cracked up when I found this old Garbage Pail Kids sticker in my 7th grade diary. How hysterically appropriate!

Doodles. Lots of hearts, Red Hot Chili Peppers symbols, peace signs and flowers adorning every page of pubescent ramblings. Didn't I have homework back then? How did I have the time to do up these books? Oh yeah. I was staying up late to catch the latest Beavis and Butthead. Duh. I must have been working on my diary during commercials. But that book report...

Interesting thoughts set aside for my tween self.

It's just too wacky to remember all these sagas from back in the day- all the flirtations, squabbling and delinquency. If only I'd had a magical, older, wiser me sitting on my shoulder, whispering bits of advice to coach my teeny bop self through the whirlwinds of youth. But then these diaries just wouldn't have been as good, huh?

This was my favorite find- a Sneak Out Plan taped into my diary, right underneath a Santa sticker. Wow. For the record, that plan worked. Good thing we took the time to map that one out.

As I finished reading the final pages of my 8th grade confessional, I told my husband that I'd have to hide these books- to ensure our own daughters never discover how unruly their mother was once upon a time. 

Fella looked at me with his very own older, wiser face, and rationalized that these journals are actually a pretty handy resource, a reminder of what it's like to be a hormonal, adolescent girl. With two daughters of our own, in about 10 years...it will definitely be in our best interests to remember.

May the force of reminiscence be with us. We're gonna need it.

Have you saved any memorabilia from your awkward years? How are you affected by memories of your younger self? Are you as embarrassed as I am? Gads!
XOXO From My Hearth to Yours