My apologies. I’ve been out to lunch. I haven’t commented, twitted, read, socialized, met up, schemeezled or schemozled for days going on days. Can I just say? So. Much. Work. My fingers have been glued to this keyboard — and not in the good way — for weeks now.
Thanks for still coming by even though I suck donkey eggs. Thanks for not holding my incommunicadoness against me. I’ll be back in action soon. But meanwhile, I thought I’d post a pictoral serial that might make you laugh. Although first. In case you’re wondering about my work state of mind recently, you’ve got good reason to…check out this picture Toots drew of me last week:
I like how it’s anatomically correct and how she nailed my nasolabial lines. Or are those whiskers? I’ll have to obsess about that later. Also, looks like I let my antenae grow too long. *Sigh* I do like to go bohemian sometimes, but that’s just ridiculous.
Anyway, I have been kind of pain in the ass-ish lately. But that’s nothing new. I have it on good authority I always have been a bit high maintenance. And here’s my proof: my childhood diary.
Let me set the stage. Here I am close to the age when I wrote the stuff you’re about to read:
Shhh. Don’t say anything. Just let that gentle breeze of geekitude sweep over you like a warm lame wave. That’s right, just relax. Are you thirsty? Take a sip of coke from my glasses. There, there. All better?
Anyway. I thought I’d start by posting one of my diary entries from 1980. Note how well-adjusted and mentally balanced I am. Also, my compassion and grace are virtues to behold.
Can you read it? Here, let me. It says:
Today is my brother’s first communion. Now I’m positive my parents love him more. The only guests I had was my best friend and Aunt Shirley and Uncle Bob. He has A.S., U.B., Aschers, Litzes, Cunninghams. And two cakes — big cakes. It’s his party and he’s outside playing and I’m inside doing all the work. U.B. gave me a pat on the back & said. “Cheer up.” And my mom and dad said I’m not helpful & things like that.
Now that I recall, my first communion party didn’t suck all that bad. Here I am suckling fried chicken and fondling a $5 bill. Not so terrible. But I didn’t have two cakes. Or the Aschers, Litzes or Cunninghams. No wonder I’m a desiccated carcass of emotion.
Then there’s this:
This gem of unedited and misspelled class and kindness says:
Today is Valentine’s Day (That’s part of the reason why I used red.)
I got a few valentines from some girls. But one from a boy, can you guess who? Your guess was probaly right. Robert Cunningham!! He likes me, but I don’t like him — believe me. He is ugly — Black hair (messy.) Ugly smile when he takes or when he is on pictures. Here is his picture (Don’t think I wanted it, it was in my yearbook.)
…His valentine to me was a big bag of cream hearts and valentine things. And a valentine that was written like this
Valentines Day is here. I’ve been thinking about you alot. You are a nice girl. The Love Bug has bitten me. I’m really serious.
(More later. I have to do something.)
10 min. Okay, I’m back. “Hi.”
Now back to pleasanter things — John Pickett. I’m pretty sure he likes me because he always talks to me. He’s so cute —
i can’t stand it!!
Ohhhh! Theresa — is another good friend of mine besides Lori, Lori doesn’t like her because she thinks Theresa is taking me away. Today during second period at school, Lori and Theresa made up but I still think that they don’t like each other. Here is a picture of both (they are 5th grade pictures so they don’t look exactly like that now.)
I don’t think there’s a note I can end this post on that would redeem me. So just thanks again for stopping by. See you again real soon?
Nah, didn’t think so.