(before I get into this, please note that the Crime Stoppers Club event tomorrow changed venues to UCB East)
When I was 16, I took a stack of old diaries from age 10-15 and threw them into a trash can fire. My intention was to destroy any material that could potentially be a source of great embarrassment in the future. I had no way of knowing that in my 20′s I would build a career largely founded on self-humiliation. One of those diaries survived my little bonfire and while I’ve flipped through it a few times over the years (once even posting a few excerpts on a now defunct blog) I only recently sat down to read it in its entirety. To be honest, I was hoping to find evidence that, at age 12, I was precocious and wise, superior to my Tiger Beat reading peers and destined for great creative achievement and accolades. Instead, I found tedious ramblings of a bored, JTT-loving, ballet dancing, Jesus loving NERD. I know, woof. I mean, really, read this opening page:
oh man, do I know how to set up an entertaining premise or what. This is the kind of diary entry you’d get if you put a gun to a kid’s head and said “just start writing, write anything.” The part I crossed out said “this may sound silly but I hope future archeologists find my diary and turn it into a book. Maybe it will tell them more about the
19th 20th century.” I later I retract that wish, actually pleading with my diary to not open itself should it be found. haha what? Anyways, over the week I’m going to post a few excerpts for your amusement/my embarrassment. Trust me, it gets a little better than that first page.