A little background: During the year I kept this diary (age 12, 6th grade) I was a home schooled, ballet dancing, piano playing, good Christian kid. My dad was a reverend for a few years and my mom taught Sunday school at the Evangelical Christian church we attended multiple times a week. Shortly after the year in which this diary takes place, I rejected the church, my dad moved out to the desert, and, predictably, my brother and I went the way of a pot smoking, booze swilling, teenage heathens. Just like a good ole American family!
I was just thinking that diary would be a very boring thing if you didn’t record your feelings in it, wouldn’t it? I still haven’t told you some stuff about myself. I love Nancy Drew and romance novels. I don’t mean those dirty romance novels that you see in the store. I mean CHRISTIAN romance novels….
My mom told me that make out parties are not good to go to. She said when you kiss a guy for a long time, it leads to intercourse. In other words, SEX. I have vowed to remain a virgin until my wedding night. She also told me that when you kiss (I mean KISS) a boy and let him touch you all over that you lose some of your self respect, unless you are married. I total agree with her.
I actually only owned one Christian romance novel, Sweetbriar, which was not only Christian but PIONEER ROMANCE. hahaha “pioneer romance,” you guys! But let me tell you, that shit was HOT. They make out passionately and at the last minute when the man is tempted to caress her bossoms, he pulls back and refuses to let lust take over before he makes an honest woman out of his bride. Talk about blue balls…Anyways, I wish I could say that I’d actually been invited to a make out party, but alas, nerd I was, I’d only read about it in a book and asked my mom what it was. And as I remain unmarried 17 years after I vowed to not engage in premarital sex, I am ever so grateful I eventually tossed that notion out the window and lost my virginity on a mattress on the floor of an attic like a proper lady. Also I apparently didn’t know the difference between feelings and facts.
Dogs are odd creatures, aren’t they? Well, on to more interesting stuff: At the church slumber party, some of the girls ran around for 2 minutes in their bra and underwear (may I remind you that I did NOT) Well their moms found out and they got busted! Normally they would not get in that much trouble but they were in the House of the Lord!! Mom was so proud of me, she said I was trustworthy and mature. She said she now trusts me to ride my bike to the market!
I remember that night clearly, and I did not refrain from running around in my underwear out of any ethical concern over being in the “house of the Lord” but because I was embarrassed that my peers were wearing real bras and I was still wearing a trainer. But I didn’t let that stop me from basking in fraudulent moral superiority while I rode my bike to the market to buy Big League Chew grape flavored bubble gum!
Dear Diary, (about my brothers, age 2 and 15)
…my littler brother Jonathan is so cute. We were swimming in a pool and when I let go of him, he grabbed onto me since he can’t swim and yelled “I’ll save you, Julia!”…Josh, my older brother, is a typical 15 year old. He plays the electric guitar and whines about everything. He is a good big-bro though. He says he will beat up all of my boyfriends, if I ever get one. I am glad I don’t have a big sister. Big sisters are always talking about older junk. Or younger junk.
hm…I dont know if that part about my little brother is sweet or terrifying. It was either harmless sibling horse play during which there was never danger, or I actually, maliciously let go of my two year old baby brother who, crazed with fear of drowning, could no longer differentiate between our persons. I’m sure I’ll find out someday when he uncovers that memory in therapy.
I saw a show on TV last night where a guy asks his friend’s sister on a date. The older brother was really mad. I wonder if my brother’s friends will ever want to date me when we are older. I hope not. His friends are disgusting! I still have no one to like. I suppose I never will. I don’t feel like anything, if you know what I mean. We just got back into the car. We ate at Denny’s. I had cereal.
I was thinking keeping a diary is sort of weird. I mean, I’ll never show it to anyone and hopefully no one will ever find it and make it a book. I guess it’s confounding to have a place where I can’t tell my feelings. No one else understands me. I tell you a lot more than I tell my friends. I have some money in my room that I keep behind my mouse house picture.
Huh, I guess I’ve been squirreling money away since I was a kid. But hiding it behind my Mouse House picture? That’s the adolescent equivalent of an old man burying gold in coffee cans in his backyard because he doesn’t trust banks. The Mouse House picture was a framed poster of a victorian house full of mice that I wanted to live in SO BAD and I also used to hide not only money, but my blooming, pubescent fantasies. Observe:
I crossed out “I haven’t gotten my period yet but I will soon!!” And oh, did I ever.