80s Adolescent Angst: becoming molly and other short lived resolves...June 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.

Right now I'm staying with Tina/Anna* in Yakima. Strange town. I hope maybe to stay here all summer and work at Dairy Queen. Burgess and Renee/Emily* back in Lacey won't be too happy, but it might not work out anyway.

I've been here for three and a half days now. Already we've gone shopping twice, out to pizza once, to McDonalds once, to Dairy Queen twice, out to the movies once, to an Honors Assembly, worked out once, walked all over town, played basketball four times, had a water fight, fixed elaborate pancake breakfasts twice, walked to the grocery store to get junk food three times - The last time I got Dexatrim pills!

Most importantly, we took a trip with Tina's Youth Group to the Portland Temple before its dedication. It's the most beautiful place I've ever been! I can't even describe it: all white marble and gorgeously designed. It gave me a resolve - to become as righteous as possible so I'll deserve a wonderful man who can take me to the temple. The PORTLAND temple, specifically.

I'm going to go to church again and I'm going to be good now matter how hard it is for me. I'm going to stop imagining what it might be like to have someone kiss my collar bones and other naughty thoughts. I'm going to LOVE the girls at church even if they are stuck up or dumb or act like they have Ben/Doug* wrapped around their little pinkies. I'm going to be nice to my mom and I'm not going to say ass or sh*t anymore. I'm going to read my scriptures without falling asleep.

I know my pride will suffer, but I can't let it stop me. I know Charles/Brian* will probably laugh at me for being so wishy-washy. But, I've got to let go of the resentment of feeling like I don't belong there, because it's just making me bitter and ruining my perspective. At the risk of sounding like a Molly, it's ruining my eternal perspective. Who knows, maybe I'll even get one of those "every fiber of my being" testimonies everybody talks about.

[*To ease the transition from pseudonyms to real names, I'll use both for a while. - 2009]