I've been writing to myself for sort of my entire life. My mother was a high school English teacher and so I have always had this strange sense of literary importance. Kind of a weirdo idea that the things I think and write are going to one day blow people away. That seems like an appropriate introduction to my very first diary entry.
12-26-89 (I was 8)
Dear Diary
Today I played with *Kate. I went to her house and I whatched movies. we whatched Batman and part of the princes bride. I helped make lunch. We had toona. It was good.
Then I drew a picture of a can of tuna and a piece of bread.
(*oh.. also.. I'm changing names. Not like it will really matter. I'm from a town of like 4,000 people. Everyone knows who I'm talking about anyway.)
On October 15, 1995, after so much "uncomfortable" writing to a nameless journal, I decided to name my diary. The list of names I gave myself to vote on were JJ, Alex, Billy, Mitzi, and Danni. Alex won. You seem so much more real now that I have something to call you! Cool! (not cool).
PS
Side note. Please. Please. pleasepleaseplease. Please do not misinterpret this blog. I honestly cannot read a single of the pages of the three "Alex Diaries" without feeling completely mortified and laughing hysterically. There is not a single shred of me that still thinks I was as cool as I thought I was when I originally wrote them. Oh... I thought I was extremely cool. In fact, I think it was maybe my favorite word.
awesome.
Love, Miranda
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