Last night, while I was going through some old things, looking for a few financial documents, I came across what may be the funniest book that I have ever read…the diary that I kept when I was 15-16. I mostly wrote in it over the summer, while I was enjoying summer camp.
I didn’t remember being quite that obsessed with boys. I mean, I liked boys. I still like boys. But I think that a good 70% of this diary focused on whichever guy I had a crush on at the moment, agonized over his lack of interest in me, and speculated on who he liked instead of me. The remaining 30% either covered my “deep” thoughts about life, self-analysis, or a running account of who was doing what with whom.
“Who decided that being prissy is feminine? Probably some guy.”
“Ben started dating Sarah yesterday, but broke up with her tonight. He likes Lorna now, and will ask her out tomorrow. Lorna will probably say yes, even though she really doesn’t care one way or the other.”
“Gabi says that in 10 years, when guys are done whoring, I’m going to be the kind of girl that they’ll want to date.”
Not much has really changed, has it?