1964
Oh, another run-in with Mr. W. It wasn’t his fault, though. I think deep down he’s really insecure. I just found out that something happened in Mrs. C’s family - a death I suppose - and she won’t be in tomorrow. I hope we have a good substitute.
I got a 95% on a chapter quiz in Geometry - not bad, huh? Mrs. P said she was really proud of us in that play. I’m glad she was, because I wasn’t! Sometimes I feel so awkward and ugly and stupid, it’s awful!
Comment 2022
So many exclamation points!!! And so many underlined words! The downside of keeping a diary as a teenager is that it works as a daily reminder of alternately boring and terrible your life is. Every now and then, you sit on your bed in your pjs lamenting the limited space of the page, because it was such a great day and there’s no enough room to give it justice. But more often than not, it was a day like December 9, 1964, that included something in English class that was so embarrassing that I couldn’t even describe it, a good mark on a quiz, and beneath it all, the smoldering shame of yesterday’s Julius Caesar fiasco.
I should add that whatever it was that happened in English class, it probably was Mr. W’s fault. He was a cranky, sarcastic, temperamental SOB who amused himself by going through girls’ handbags in front of the whole class and pretending to be embarrassed when he found tampons.
1981
The plan continues to work well enough. I’ve been very tired lately and writing has been difficult. Yesterday I came home early and took a short nap. I don’t seem to be getting bigger right now - or maybe just in very tiny increments. It’s so strange. I guess I expected to grow steadily, not in spurts. Yet in the 10th and 11th weeks I became noticeably rounder. Since then, nothing for a couple of weeks. I still don’t look pregnant. (Maybe thanks to last year’s exercise?)
We got a Rubik’s cube to play with and have been beating our brains out with it. That man deserves every cent he earns. It’s a marvelous puzzle.
1984
On the one hand, I have a real icky naggy headache drilling away at me. On the other hand, it’s a pleasant Sunday, Jim and Kiddo are outside, and I have a strong desire to…I don’t know what. Not listen to this music, which is fun (Raffi) but too lively. I need maybe five minutes of PEACE. If I only knew how.
1986
Yesterday was Kiddo 2’s due date. I am just as glad to have missed it again. It amazes me how much better I feel this time. It hasn’t even been three weeks and already I’ve been back on campus four days (off and on). Physically, I feel so much better than I did the last weeks of my pregnancy. The tiredness is still there, and will be there as long as I’m getting up 2 or 3 times a night. But a daily nap - and not overdoing it - helps a lot.
The weather alternates between fairly pleasant and cold and drippy. A winter baby, I’m finding out, is an inconvenience at times. Getting Kiddo 1 to school is the worst. It’s impossible to get her there before 9 a.m., hard as I try. And what happens when Kiddo 2 is sick? (Not “if” - it will happen.)
Last night I went in to say good night to Kiddo 1 and she said, “Mommy, I wish I could kiss and hug you forever”. Warm magic.
1997
Christmas letter to myself.
I have had an amazingly good year, considering its terrible potential. Kids’ school troubles, Jim totaled the car, I had to get FIVE crowns, being buried under administration stuff at work, topped off in June with Mom’s death. And that was just the first six months.
On the other hand, Kiddo 1 is discovering and developing her musical talents. Mom’s car solved the transportation problems. My teeth don’t hurt anymore. My time in the administrative barrel ended (yay!). I have felt creative again for the first time in forever.
It is a minor miracle that I am sitting here in my sweats at 10 a.m., with my journal and scented candle. Aaaaaaaaah.
Five crowns is a rough year. I hope they were well-crafted and gave you decades of service. 💪🦷
Back on campus 3 weeks after birth! Hard core!