80s Adolescent Angst: FYC, The Cure, and GC: an insert.... 04.02.1989

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.

"She Drives Me Crazy" by the FIne Young Cannibals is on the stereo (KUBE). Mac used to always sing this song on the ski bus. Man I miss the ski bus! I should say I miss skiing but I miss the ski bus more. Hee hee.

I found these notes I took during General Conference for extra credit in seminary, but I never finished them so I might as well stick them in here. Dad said conference was boring. Nice example.

I also wrote Rob a note. He called me that night and I wuz so happy to talk to him, but I think I need to STOP thinking about him. I never can tell when he's serious. He tells me he loves me all the time, but he also is so full of crap that it drives me crazy!

I haven't run this week and I think I've gained weight. I look ENORMOUS. I'm going to lose 10 pounds by Friday if it kills me. Hello Slim Fast and Dexitrim! I have mass homework. Gotta go.

Are you joshin me? Rob just called. We talked for about a half an hour but Dad started getting on my case about phone curfew. He and mom have the DUMBEST rules.

He (Rob, not my Dad) is so totally RAD. Super smart and funny. Besides, someone who says he is nuts about you is totally irresistible. I think that's my favorite thing about him, matter of fact. And there's lots of fun things to choose from, especially that Charles gets so UPTIGHT about him.

Yup, love that he says he thinks he loves me. "What an attractive quality in a young man," as my mom would say. *ROLLING MY EYES right now.* Gek! She wants me to marry Charles, in case I haven't mentioned that. That's nice and all, but LATER Mom. Sheesh.

Reading back in this journal, I can see the brain rot happening. I've been spending all my time on drama and boys and plays and not enough on books. But I don't want to be a brainy nerdy lame-o anymore, so it's a tough call. Not really. HAH. Let me think, stupid old rhyming history in the Iliad or Mr. Robert P. himself - who - now that I think of it, makes me feel like listening to The Cure and curling up in a ball on the floor and actually enjoying it in some sick way. I totally heart being lovelorn. Mass. I'm NOT kidding.

So, forget the homework. I know it'll never work out with Rob, so might as well get started on some awesome lyrics about how much love sucks. Hahhahahahahahaha!