10 reasons you should be glad I didn’t blog in my teens

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This post is part of Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop. His week’s prompts were :

1.) When you were in high school what was your favorite song? What did it mean to you then and what does it mean to you now?
2.) 10 reasons you should be glad I didn’t blog in my 20′s. (Inspired by Wendy Aarons and friends)
3.) If you had to select a color to pick your personality what would it be? (inspired by Jamie Miles)
4.) Inspired by Pinterest.
5.) Share how you came up with your kids names!

And I chose “10 reasons you should be glad I didn’t blog in my 20’s”. But instead I changed it to “10 reasons you should be glad I didn’t blog in my teens,” since – let’s face it – “teens” is more hilarious.

Anyway – I don’t really have to tell you reasons – I can show you.

In my junior year, my English teacher, who I loved dearly, gave us the best assignment ever. Keep a journal for the last two quarters. We didn’t have to write in it every day, just once or twice a week. She wouldn’t grade us on content. She would make no judgments about what she read. She just wanted us to be able to express ourselves uninhibitedly and using proper grammar and spelling. Most of the class groaned when they heard it. They didn’t want to write in a journal and they certainly didn’t want her reading it. But me? I was elated. I couldn’t wait to write in it. I could keep it out of the hands of my mother by keeping it in the locker. And when I did take it home to write, she never bothered to look at it – it was a composition notebook. She wasn’t interested in that academic nonsense (except in the A-minus? Why a minus? sense).

And an added bonus of this assignment? Finally, an audience for my angst! Someone – a grown-up – would finally see my suffering and realize what a terrible life I led. She would tell the other teachers and they would all sit together in the teachers’ lounge saying things like, “Poor Gina, she deserves so much more in life.” And “Poor Gina, no one has ever felt pain like her before.” And “Poor Gina, she should be prom queen, she is so much nicer than the other girls. A beautiful person, inside and out.” “Poor Gina, why can’t everyone see how wonderful she is?” “Poor Gina, she is so under-appreciated.” And “Poor Gina, let’s just give her straight A’s because she’s obviously a suffering genius.”

Best. Assignment. Ever.

So now, I am going to share some excerpts as my 10 reasons, despite the risk of humiliation. Because I’m a giver. A beautiful person inside and out

Picture it…small town PA, 1985:

1. I hate boys. (I didn’t) I do. (didn’t) I really do! (really. I didn’t) Especially the ones that can’t make up their minds!! This is the THIRD time in the past three months that this has happened to me – a boy likes you, you like him, then “poof” he’s gone. (are you feeling bad for me yet?) I’m SICK of it!! I take everyone’s crap all the time and I’m tired of it! (no, seriously, aren’t you feeling bad for me yet?)

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2. BA makes me want to puke!! (clearly, I loved me some exclamation points!!) I really thought he liked me but then he says he also likes NG, cause he can have “fun” with her (get it?). (yeah, GET IT?? NG is a slut and I am not. Yet. He obviously missed the boat on that one. Also – I have no recollection of any sort of relationship/fling/crush/whatever with Mr. BA)

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3. I can’t believe TA & SN are mad at me. I don’t know what I did to them! Nothing! They just wake up one day and decide, let’s be mad at Gina and see how many other people we can get to join in. Screw them! (I was so badass, wasn’t?) I hate them anyway and don’t even WANT them as friends! (until tomorrow when they com to me and say they’re mad at DD and I’m just glad it’s not me anymore. God, I wish I had had more of a spine back then!)

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4. …and then to make matters worse, BT does the SAME THING!! He pretends to like me and when I like him he says, “Gee, Gina, I wish I could get into going with people, cause it would be you. BUT I DON’T.” And then he doesn’t talk to me anymore!!! (This not-talking thing didn’t last very long. There are many, many entries about this guy. We never had a real relationship, but we had a series of “interludes” that went on well into my college years. Because I was stupid enough to be taken in by his foxiness – that was my number one adjective in those days when describing boys – foxy – even though he treated me like ass)

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5. RD came up to me in the hall & sang I feel for you in my ear and then grabbed my crotch! I can’t believe he did that! I am SO embarrassed (False – Upperlass boy noticing me, and setting off  my fucked up teen girl self esteem issues while validating that I am, in fact, desirable? I think we all know I was eating that shit up. That is fucked up teen girl OXYGEN!)

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6. Well fine!! (not) I hate them all!!! (not) (And also – enough with the exclamation points, already. Although, I really had no choice. If this grownup person reading my journal was ever going to understand how mistreated and misunderstood and very, very deep I was, I needed to make my POINT!!!!!!)

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7. Oh my GOD, BT is SUCH a FOX!!!!!! (See – I told you about the fox thing)

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8. I think they are all taking lessons from TM, the champion heartbreaker!!! Lord knows he proved it with me. I hate him, too!!! (Very much not. He was my first love. My first lover. I obsessed over him for years. He really did break my heart, so I’ll give myself a pass on this one) I hope he flunks out of school. (because then maybe he’d be back here with me) He doesn’t belong at college anyway. He belongs in a juvenile home!!

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9. I just wish I could find someone who was nice and considerate. (And who could only see how wonderful and meaningful and deep and beautiful I was) but it seems like every time I do I ruin it – DB (no – never would have worked. But he was my fallback guy – the guy that was so sweet and I loved so much, but not “that way”), TT (No fucking idea. Seriously, I have no idea who this is. I don’t recall ever dating a TT. I asked Hedge and she doesn’t either. I mean, how great could he have been if I don’t remember him AT ALL?), J (OK, I am not positive, but I MIGHT be talking about Hedge’s husband here. Sorry, Hedge – you caught me – I’m still pining for him 25 years later), CT (dear lord – the teacher? The one reading this journal? This was her SON! Man, I was laying it on thick)!!! Well, maybe I’ll get lucky and someone nice like KW will ask me out – that would be the day! (Actually, this guy DID ask me out a short time later and it was the most boring date ever. We never went out again.)

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10. TK took my favorite record & broke it. I’ll forgive him because it’s the last day of school and he is SUCH A FOX! (Again with the foxes. Also? RECORD! HA!).

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So there you have it. Now do you see and understand my suffering? No one suffered like me back then. And that is why you should be glad I wasn’t blogging in those days. Because my pain was clearly too great for the average person to understand.

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About sugarmag

Forty-sdjhfkjsdhfkjsdh year old mom of 2 - a 18 year old boy and a 11 year old girl. I love them very much, but they drive me crazy. I'm married and work full-time. I'm not sure which of these is the most exhausting, but probably the husband. I'm opinionated. I'm outspoken. I'm loud. I'm an over-sharer. I think Tom Cruise is a jackass. I like to say jackass. I like to swear, period. Fuckers. I love to read. I struggle with my weight. I love my job. I dress my pets up and ridicule them regularly. I am not afraid to cut my hair and I don't understand people who are. I hate getting old. I love to laugh. Make me laugh, OK?

11 responses »

  1. My dad “accidentally” read my journal in high school, and sent me to counseling. You know what the shrink told me? “You’re like everyone else, honey.” I was pretty crushed by that news.

    So what grade did you get? Did the teacher deduct for overuse of !!!!!’s?

    • My mom was prone to “accidentally” reading my stuff, so this class journal was perfect for me. I got an A. Obviously. A long-suffering women like myself DESERVED an A.

  2. All I can picture is Steve Martin and Dan Akroyd as the Playboys going, “Here come the fox-es…” “Maybe they’ll let us hold onto their big American breasts!”

  3. I so identify with your suffering. My god, all of us teenagers were suffering so much, and yes the boys – I HATED THEM ALL TOO (no, I didn’t really). Although I was so conscious of the fact that my mom would read my journal, that I always wrote the nicest of things in it (doesn’t really solve the person now, does it) but anticlimactically she never did bother to read it.

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