Why blog the 80s?

Due to not-so-popular yet compelling demand, I'm blogging my high school diary entries from the late eighties and early nineties.

You are more likely to enjoy this blog if:
- You were born between 1970 and 1976.
- You thought George Michael would fall in love with you if he only got to know you.
- Your Aquanet consumption easily exceeded one fushia aerosol can per month.
- You penned at least one angsty poem per week about your latest crush.
- You assiduously nursed all legitimate bouts of melancholia into sustained periods of truly impressive despair. When you consulted your journals weeks after writing about each episode, you moved yourself to tears.



an uncurable disease - 11.15.88

I've got an uncurable disease. It is called ILWB syndrome. In Love With Ben syndrome. Always and 4 ever! I really don't know what to do. I like Matt a lot. But what I feel for Ben runs soooo deep. And he is the only guy I never stopped liking, even though I said it and thought it.

I can fake I don't like him but it gets harder and harder. Especially when he looks straight into my eyes and I can't read what his are saying. Every time we look at each other, I try to figure out what he's feeling but I can't.

He's probably thinking, "I'm hungry right now. I think I'll have a sandwich." Sometimes I catch him off guard and he'll look away. Especially last Sunday when Anna said he was watching me, and then I'd look at him, and then he'd look away.

I wish I had powers of ESP or something, so I could read his mind. Then again, if I had ESP, I could read everybody's mind. Which would be RAD because then I would know the truth. It is so hard to figure out.

What I think about myself (fat+ugly+stupid most of the time) seems like it is true, but then my friends say something totally different and guys do notice me (now, at least) but I still feel like my friends could be lying and the guys could just be doing what guys do and it is really hard to tell for sure.

And even if I COULD read minds, is what they are thinking even true or accurate or is it just as screwy as what I think? It's not like I'm a fabulous judge of character.

I'm so excited to go see my big bro in college. That will be mass fun! I wrote him a letter but I'll have to give it to him when I get there because I forgot to mail it. I bet when I get there I will forget all about high school boys. Right? Hasta la vista, Ben! Yeah, sure.

Why do I keep torturing myself. JUST LET IT GO! I'm SO DUMB. And tired.

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