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.



Google/Blogspot is like mass cool or something...


So, it turns out you can check your stats and stuff on Blogspot.

I'm still about as tech savvy as I was in 1991 when I learned all the super cool fonts you could use on the Mac Classic II.


(I also learned there is a word for this. The word for the day is LUDDITE.)



Tonight I discovered something! Here's the big news:

I have a follower. WheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

I am so totally, massively excited. Her blog is Cassarole and I wish I could give her a special prize or something!

It also turns out that there are some posts on 80s angst that have had more hits than others.

In remembrance of Casey Kasem and the Top Forty list which ruled many a weekend for me back in the late 80s and early 90s, I'm (a tad narcissistically) listing the three posts that have topped the 80s Angst stats over the past few years.

I think I'm actually listing these because I'm so bored with the Russell story. Bored bored bored.

AT number 3 on today's countdown:


Number two on today's countdown chronicles a very serious disease: ILWB/D (In Love With Ben aka Doug) Syndrome.

Number ONE on today's countdown marks the return of 80s Angst. Apparently, it took me a year to work up the courage to post this poem because it. is. so. pathetic.

Yup. I just created my own countdown of my(1989)self. I'm getting a little big for my britches. Or my hair.

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