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.



these five words i swear to you 04.02.1989


"I'll be there for you" by Bon Jovi is playing on the stereo. (KUBE, my favorite station). I've been cleaning my room cuz it looked like a nuclear war testing zone. I love this song so much. It's so sweet!

Chorus:

I'll be there for you. These five words I swear to you. When you breathe I wanna be the air for you. I'll be there for you. I'd live and I'd die for you, Steal the sun from the sky for you. Words can't say what love can do. I'll be there for you.

Sometimes I go over to Anna's and we watch Mtv and I see Jon Bon Jovi singing his guts out and I pretend he's singing just to me. Or that someone like him is singing to me. Or maybe some guy out there is at least listening to him sing the song and thinking of me. Or something.

You know, if he didn't use the contraction, it would be six words and it would ruin the chorus. "These six words I swear to you" just doesn't sound the same. Thank goodness for the apostrophe!

I was supposed to go out with my friends this weekend, but it didn't work out. They're setting me up with this guy who is the president of our class. And he has a Beamer. He's very smart and good looking. It's a little intimidating. Oh, and he's Matt's best friend, so we could double with u-know-who.

Something else funny about that song. If someone were the air for me when I was breathing, would I actually be breathing carbon dioxide and like, die because it would be like breathing in fumes? It sounds romantic, like suicide because of a broken heart, but it's probably just messy. Or stinky. Or uncomfortable. Like love.


It's just as well going out this weekend didn't work out. I could've fallen in love for real and then I would've died of a broken heart, or poisoning.

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