Mom, Don't Read My Diary

For Christmas Megan got me the book "Mortified - Real Words. Real People. Real Pathetic." The back of the book reads....

"In the days before blogs, teenagers recorded their lives with a pen in top-secret notebooks, usually emblazoned with an earnest, underlined plea to parents to keep away. Since 2002, David Nadelberg has tapped that vast wellspring of adolescent anguish in the stage show Mortified, in which grown men and women confront their past with firsthand tales of their first kiss, first puff, worst prom, fights with mom, life at bible camp, worst hand job, best mall job, and reasons they deserved to marry Simon LeBon."

I knew I was going to love it, and read it in two days. It's a scream, and I recommend it to anyone.

As fate would have it, while talking to my Mom tonight, she admitted to reading my diary while she was here this year. This "diary" is actually my journal I wrote in in 1995 while I was working in Alaska.

She suggested I burn it before the girls read it.

This prompted me to pull it out (no need to wipe the dust off, Mom) and look inside. These were wilder days...before kids...what the hell did I write? Obviously, crazy things like...

"It was almost a full moon tonight so I took a long walk up and around the cove. Gorgeous. There are waterfalls, huge trees, flowers - its like a little elf world. I sat on a bench by a waterfall and watched the trees in the moonlight."

Where are my matches!?

But maybe it was this...

"Then there's Kenny. Why can't I get him off my mind? I cannot believe the way he made me feel in such a short time. It's hard to tell what is really going on between us. I can't read his mind and I know what his motives were for our relationship, but all I know is he made me feel so incredibly good when we made love - it was like I was a totally new person. I usually am very guarded or almost flippant about sex but I was saying and doing things before I thought about what the repercussions might be. I don't know if it's love, but I do know that I have experienced lust and this isn't that."

Or could it be this quote that I jotted down?

"Only the rather stupid and insentient, nowadays, have strong and sharply defined personalities. Only the barbarians among us 'know what they are'."
-Aldous Huxley "Eyeless in Gaza"

And really...that's about it. There's some comment on my co-workers, a few tirades about the captain, some descriptions of nights were I drank too much. But the excerpts above were really the raciest it got.

Dang. Good thing she didn't find my erotic fiction.