Na na na na, hey hey hey, GOODBYE! (The final Russ entry)

I'm not sorry to transcribe the last of the Russell saga. Not one bit. To celebrate THE END, I'm including a fun schematic, courtesy of Mikare Night, Inc.:

Yes, this is a baptismal font in the Seattle Temple, drawn to scale.* It is very important to note the location of the stick people. Also, be sure to admire how thorough it is...stairs, shoe and cloak room, men's lockers, counters...

Apparently, seating charts are the coin of the realm when you are 14 and boy crazy: "Will that special someone sit by me? If he sits by me, will he talk to me? If not, will some other, remotely attractive boy sit by me so I can flirt with him in hopes of making Mr. Special jealous?"

All while in the temple. Yup. That Mikare Night is a class act!

Diary Entry: July 20, 1989

We went to the temple today. When we got there, Tina said Russ kept staring at me and stuff. I caught his eye once or twice. Then we got down to the baptismal font and we had like a 45 minute wait.

Anyways, I was sitting in a chair in this long row (cue schematic, above) and Russ came and sat diagonal from me. We start talking. He keeps playing with my feet and touching my hand. He's such a flirt!

So we ate dinner together and spent practically the whole day together. Believe me, it was a laugh a minute!

That night he came over, but he mostly talked to Tina and stuff but we talked a little bit. I wanted to tell him I like him, but I chickened out.

That was the last time I ever saw Russ.

I decided that night, after going to the temple, that I had to go home and stay there and work things out with my family.

So Saturday we came home. Tina went to her Dad's and I went out with Renee and Kristy to Lakefair. And I finally went on the barf up rides for the first time!

This has been a summer of new experiences...

*When Mormons refer to doing "baptisms for the dead" in the temple, we're talking about acting as proxy for those (often loved ones) who have passed away. For example, I could take my deceased grandmother's name to the temple and go through the baptismal ordinance on her behalf. Nope, no dead bodies involved.

Because we believe in life after death, we believe that the person I've been baptized for can then choose to accept the baptism. It is always a choice.

It's the final countdown...to the last Russ entry (please, for the LOVE, let it END already...)

If your New Year's resolution is to start a journal, or to journal more frequently, a word of warning:

Writing in a journal puts a long tail on REALLY insignificant things.

Had I actually married Russ, or at least seen him more than a few times, I suppose these entries would be very tender.

However... now we face the tedious finale to the Russ saga before we can get to more interesting material. Like my infatuation with Stryper and Milli Vanilli.

Diary Entry: July 11, 1989 (still...)

Tonight we had the Stake Interview to go to the Seattle temple.

Russ came a little late and he sat RIGHT BEHIND me and Tina. He was singing "If you don't know me by now" by Simply Red.

I felt all smiley inside because yesterday when he came over, I didn't know he was there, and I had Tina's radio on full blast. And when that song came on, I screamed and turned it up and started singing as loud as I could because I LOVE that song.

It felt like he was sending a special message. Nobody else knows about it, so it would only mean something to me.

Then again, he could just like the song.

But even if he just likes the song, I also LOVE the song and that makes it another sign that we are perfect for each other.

[Note from 2010: I just read the above paragraph to my husband and he said, "Wow. Who ARE you?"]

The meeting was mass cool. I felt guilty over a lot of things I have done. Stuff like lying about my age to some gorgeous guy or faking how I feel or hoping someone will kiss me on the collarbones really soon.

The first time I met Russ, something told me I was going to marry him. I've never written that in here before. But...

[Note from 2010: Ok, this is so barf-inducing that I cannot transcribe it for you. You're just going to have to read the real thing. Pukity puke pukeness...]

Goo. Blady blady. It goes on from here to say many more vomitous things about how great Russ is, and then it says this:

*warning* *warning* *warning*

A little piece of advice [for my daughters]:

Pay attention to "whatsherface." If some woman lives in the same town with a guy you don't know and she tells you that the guy you don't know is a womanizer, she might just be right.

Even if the guy is capable of having a deep spiritual conversation about where the moon comes up (wait for it), you should still run. Run very fast.

Here is the bit about the moon coming up:

As if this particular entry weren't humiliating enough, I've opted to include its stunningly embarrassing conclusion.

My husband insisted. And, because he's had to listen to these stupid entries about Russ for over a week now, I'm obliging him.

It pains me.

Here's why:

You heard it here.

When your heart and your brain change places (and when memories smile all by themselves) the world you call your life runs smoother.

"And now you know."

The return of (drumroll+curtains+applause, please) Mikare Night!

I'm not making this stuff up, people.

Less than two weeks before I turned 15, I created a new name for myself. Not just any name. Not a cutesy-tootsy nickname. None of that for me. This was serious.

Why?

Because I thought I would soon be an actress. You have to say that word a specific way. Heavy emphasis on the "ACT" part. Like this: ACT-tress.

I'm not sure why I thought I would be an actress. I certainly wasn't doing any acting at the time. I'd had one line in one play, or something.

This is the name (and the reason I chose it). Both equally asinine, and not just a little troubling.

Did you catch that? The name, the signature, the pronunciation. And the reason?

"I like it. It sounds British."

I might just mention that I'd never been to the UK. I'd never been on an airplane. Or out of Washington. (Except to visit grandparents in Utah, which is pretty much the Mormon equivalent of a mothership. You beam there and back for food storage supplies every two years or so.)

Mikare Night, however inane, is still better than the moniker preceding it. Get ready for this, because it is deeply unsettling.

The name I first considered/coined was "Mikare Delsa Anaquees." I dreamt up that one because I thought it sounded Spanish.

Unwilling to part with either possibility, I practiced signatures for both:

Note: In case you thought you might be hallucinating, yes, the border of this page actually lists boys' names. Lest you believe I was crushing on ALL of them, I was actually thrilled to have guy friends. Writing down names was a way to pinch myself. These boys actually talked to me.

Wait. That's super creepy, right?

Just remember, we're still dealing with the legacy of the FF Poppy.

My favorite name on there? (Of course, a face doesn't come to mind). Check out the bottom right corner. Even back then, I didn't know the guy's last name, so I wrote "Nate" and then, parenthetically, so I would remember, "ski dude."

Ahhh. Ski dude. How I loved you! (I'm pretty sure I have a poem around here somewhere that actually says, "I'll see you on the slopes someday...")

THS versus NTHS

Dear Diary,

Remember how, back in 1989, I transferred from NTHS to THS and it was a big sordid deal because the schools are huge rivals? And remember how Brian and Doug made fun of me for leaving NTHS for TimberSLIME?

Well, this proves I made the right decision. (So what that it's, like, 20 years later. Back then we had GREASE. In 2010, they have a flash mob of "Don't Stop Believing." It translates to the same thing...

That's right, all you haters. Timberline is MASS cool!

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:

This one explains the FF Poppy (Fat Farting Poppy) problem which necessitated transferring from one high school to another.

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.

Premonitions and Stupid Movies...Yet ANOTHER annoying Russ entry

Despite the snooze-fest that I'm going to call the "Russell Period," I'm including this entry because it references "Three Men and a Baby" AND "The Man from Snowy River." CLASSIC 80s movies, especially for Mormons. Here we go:

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Diary Entry: Monday, July 10, 1989

Tina and her friend went swimming tonight, but I'd worked in the yard all day so I was a social dud and went to bed at 8pm. Good thing I did, cuz precisely at 8:04 pm, Tina's mom woke me up and goes - "Russ is here." I thought she was joking even though I had this feeling he'd come over. I couldn't handle not seeing him! Anyway, I go, "Oh, really?" like it doesn't matter.

Then, I remember the movie "Three Men and a Baby" is on so I go out into the living room. There's Russ. Ooooooooh boy. I have no make-up on, my hair is extremely flat and I'm in a tee-shirt that goes past my knees. But I act all non-chalant and say "hi" and everything.

Then Russ and I get into a big discussion about DRAMA - because he's actually into it! oh WOW. I've never met a guy so wonderful. And we're so perfect for each other.

Then he tells me that he's gong to rent "The Man from Snowy River" and do I want to come see it with him? I say "sure" and figure he means Tina too, so I tell him she's out with a friend - and he goes "Why should Tina come if she has a friend?"

I shouldn't say this, but it was TOTALLY RAD! He wanted to just be with me, right? Isn't that what that means?

So he leaves to get the movie and I go put on make-up because this is all very humiliating. And I'm all busy singing in Tina's room at the top of my voice and I haven't even changed yet. I haven't TOUCHED a curling iron to my hair. I walk out into the living room and Russ is back. SANTA VACA!

I go, "Where is everybody?" And he goes, "Tina's parents left to get Tina and her friend." And he wants to leave right then, but I don't feel good about just writing a note. So I stall and we keep watching "Three Men and a Baby" because there's supposed to be a ghost in it!

Tina gets home but I can tell Russ is anxious to leave and Tina is hungry so I ask Russ if he wants to just watch his movie there, at Tina's house so she can eat. And he says no, he's tired and wants to watch the movie at his house. I ask him if his parents and sister are there and he says yeah. I tell Tina to meet us there after she gets something to eat.

So we take off. Russ seems upset. I ask him what's wrong. He takes a while, but then he tells me he's annoyed with Tina. I think maybe he wanted her to come so I tell him I'll go. He says no. When we get to his house, his parents aren't home. I tell him we should go back to Tina's.

Instead, he takes me to the neighbor's house. We spend about a half hour over there. Russ plays with their little kids and I can't help thinking (again) how special he is. His parents show up at the neighbor's house but they start gabbing. Russ bugs them to go home so we can watch the movie, but they say they'll be home soon, so we go back to his place.

When we get to his house, he plays Nintendo for a little while and then the doorbell rings and it's Tina. I think, "Cool, she came to watch the movie" but I take another look at her face and I know I'm in trouble. Tina's parents didn't know where I was and Tina told them I was with Russ and they thought I was alone with him and so you can imagine what they thought. He's sixteen and I'm only fourteen but ALMOST fifteen. Still, I'm not allowed to date. Boy was Tina's mom angry! I felt awful!

When I left, Russ barely acknowledged it. Tina called him ask him why he was angry at her and he did not want to talk to me. I'm confused. I really care for Russ, so much it hurts! I know that is trite but it is true. I thought he wanted to spend time with me, but he was so rude.

It wouldn't surprise me if he was disappointed when he got to Tina's that I was the only one there. I think they had probably planned to hang out tonight but she stood him up to go swimming so then he was mad at her and thought he'd make her jealous by hanging out with me. What a JERK!

I guess I made a mess of everything but at least Tina really stuck up for me to her mom. I don't think it helped any. We stayed up all night talking and now it is 3:00am and so I have to go to sleep. I still can't figure out why I make such big stupid mistakes.

-------------------------------------------

What we can all see, what is so obvious to anyone not suffering from idiocy and hormones, is that Russ was a big POOTER HEAD. He was working the buddy system, in a not so charitable way.

Are you, like me, pleading: "PLEASE let the lightbulb that flickered ever so briefly stay ON. Let that tiny buzzing filament TAKE!"?

Ah, Rationality. My apologies to you. Your time was too short. And absurdly, predictably, doomed.

I know this will shock you, but I think there are at least two more entries about Russ.

The Church is *TRUE* in Yakima...

You know, it is very interesting to me how often, at the age of 15, I went to church in Yakima. Because I did not go to church often at all when I was at home (in Lacey). I think it is because the church is *more true/truer* in Yakima. That MUST be it. It couldn't possibly have been because of all the (Yakima) boys who were mass cool...

Diary Entry: MORE of the longest stupidest entry on the planet

Sunday, July 9th - 1989

I got up early to get ready for church today. Russ and his family were there, which made me happy. =) He was up at the sacrament table and I kept sneaking looks at him and he kept looking down at our pew, but I'm sure he was looking at Tina.

After sacrament was over, Russ came and sat behind us because that's where his family was. I could tell Russ was watching me and Daniel (Tina's step brother) goof around. Russ sat directly behind me. It made me nervous. But I was in a singing mood, and he was singing right behind me. It's like we were singing together. A duet. It was WONDERFUL. Our voices blend so well! *Sigh*

Even though we were in church, I did wonder, just once, what it would feel like if Russ kissed my collar bones. Just once, though. I swear! And then I repented, really fast.

After the meeting, the Bishop dismissed all the Primary kids first. So Russ leans forward and tells me I better go with them. I just laughed at him.

Then I had to go have an interview with the Bishop because we're all going on a temple trip. I told the Bishop I hadn't been to church for a long time and what had been going on with my ward back in Lacey. He gave me a few pointers, but he let me go to the temple!

It felt really good when the Bishop asked me if I was morally clean. I could look straight in his eyes and say "Yes, I am!" But afterward I felt like bawling because I am so wicked! I mean, just five seconds before I was dreaming about Russ kissing my collar bones!

I am going to try so hard to be good. AND lose 40 pounds. Russ is almost constantly on my mind. Almost everything makes me think of him. The more I get to know him, the more I like his wonderful personality.

Well, gotta scram!

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Note from 2010: *LOVE* that trying to be good, losing 40 pounds, and obsessing over a boy occupy the same thought/paragraph/brain matter.

The list of GOALS below is part of the same entry. This list is most DEFINITELY in order of importance.

The list of realistic, attainable, measurable - NOT TO MENTION character-building - goals continues:

*A note about Mormons: We often say "the church is true." What we actually mean is that we believe the gospel of Jesus Christ, as restored to the earth through the Prophet Joseph Smith, contains the fulness of truth (and all truth is part of one great whole). It's a little more complex than this, but that's the 5 cent version for you.

Are you, dear reader, sick of Russ yet? Because I am...

The Russ/Tina/Andrea saga continues...

Let me es-splain. No. Not enough time. Let me sum up.

Despite the apparent catharsis of writing a very very bad poem, my poor nearly fifteen-year-old self (yes, I'm still exploiting her) remains enthralled with Russ. If I remember correctly, the whole thing began because he had the "BEST VOICE" and because he could drive. This is creating some strain on my relationship with Tina, because she also likes Russ. And to put it in prospecting terms, Tina was there first.

I was tempted to skip all of the rest of the Russ saga because it is so boooooooorrrrrring to me (anything post NEVER poetry is anticlimactic at this point) but I'll stay chronological for now. Here we go.

Diary Entry: Sunday, July 9, 1989 (A date with Russ, Part I)

On Friday, Tina and me started getting ready at 5:30 to go on a date with Russ. He was taking us to a drive-in movie for the halibut, I guess.

[I love this explanation. Had to include it.]

I kept kinda quiet to let Tina and Russ talk. I could never tell if he was looking at me or not.

Russ came up with some bizarre idea to go to Safeway, of all places. The whole night was beautiful.

I mean, when we were back at Tina's, Russ and me would would laugh at the same time. And then when we got out of his truck at Safeway, there was a BMW right next to us, and I spazzed out, and so did he! We both LOVE BMWs. We're meant for each other. I know it.

[Yep. A insert a lovely illustration of the reason we are MFEO here.]

We both kept cracking jokes the whole time. Like, walking through the parking lot, we kept saying, "You're with me now, so try to act cool." It was sooo funny. I also teased him about how he was babysitting us.

Finally, I tried to take off and lose them. If he wants to be with Tina, that's just fine with me. But just when I think I've lost them, I see him out running up behind me. He puts his hands on my shoulders and turns me around.

Here we are in a supermarket and I suddenly realize that there's no other place I'd rather be. I didn't think of anything immoral or mushy. I just looked into those clear blue eyes and wondered if there was anyone more wonderful in the whole world.

He held my hand and then my wrist and tugged on my bracelet. He said, really LOUD, "Excuse me, miss, don't you know shoplifting is illegal?" I started laughing and told him it was mine and people were staring at us and he keeps apologizing. So he goes, "I'm sorry, can I do anything to you? I mean, for you?" We both kept laughing. I've never had so much fun in a supermarket.

[As far as I'm concerned, that's entirely enough about the stupid supermarket. Let's move on to the actual drive-in, shall we? Apparently, that event was important enough to merit an illustration. I'll put the actual entry in here, too.]

Okay, that's enough of this entry for now. It is SUPER long and I can barely stand it. How can you?

BTW: If you want to write Russ and complain about these entries, I'm pretty sure he's on Facebook. Just search for someone named Russ who has red hair and lived in Yakima in 1989.

It's so sad that I entirely missed that movie because all I could think about was Russ. I mean, I'm pretty sure it was a Patrick Swayze movie, so you know it had to be good.

I'll post more nonsense about Russ and the drive-in soon, I'm sure.

You waited 12 months for THIS tripe?!?!

For my four fans...

You know the last post of 2009? The one where I threatened to include the poem about RUSS and Tina, and the ulti-love-hypotnuse?

The poem is called (dramatic pause + dramatic sigh inserted here)... N-E-V-E-R (because it never should have happened).

In the immortal words of Barney/Neil Patrick Harris: "Wait for it..."

Never, Part I

Please note the very literary consideration, weighing "wave of emotions" against "my whole body of emotions." A critical distinction. How is a girl to decide?

We left this masterpiece at a crucial moment. Let us continue.

Never, Part II

I love the hope amidst the heartbreak! That what destroys you can make you a better person and a better friend. It is all so tragically purposeful!

We paused at the poem's denouement: "It hurts too much to know that I never had you... BUT" (Note the intermittent repetition! And the surprise: no use of the word, "BUT" here. Such command of the form!)

Never, Part III

Can you just feel the catharsis? The moment of clarity? Joy's triumphant return?

Never, Part IV

I know it is difficult to restrain yourself at this point, but please, NO CLAPPING.

We don't clap for poets. We nod. Nod slowly. Nod for each tear shed. Nod for each upward lift of your heart, beating beating.

Yes, you feel it.

If you know what OMD stands for, you might wanna read this blog...

Nope. OMD isn't the acronym for Oh My Dinosaur, though I'm getting to be one of those according to my nieces. (My nieces make fun of my pants. And my music. And my eyebrows).

If you're reading this, you probably know that OMD stands for Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark. And, at the age of 15, I thought that translated to playing one's cello with the lights off.

Fifteen is also the year I loved getting perms, clicking butane curling irons, and soaking my hair with sun-in, preferably all in the same day. Someday I'll post a pic of the bald spot that's rapidly forming on the crown of my head.

At fifteen, I was also in love with all five Stucki boys, my paperboy, George Michael, some guy named Russ who lived in Yakima, and random guys I met skiing. Really, truly, painfully in love with each one.

I wrote poems. Lots of poems. Poems that made me weep.

It was exhausting.

And it was recorded, in nauseating detail.

Yes, I'm back to share the sordid ramblings of teenage angst in its zenith: we're gonna freak out like it's 1989.

warning! this entry is rated PG-13 for language and excessive amounts of self-pity...July 1989

Ok, I'm about to make myself sound like a fool, but it doesn't matter.* Nothing matters anymore.

I can't like Russ. Period. It was a stupid idea in the first place. He's a nice...okay - WONDERFUL guy but he's over. In actuality, he never was. How can something be gone if it wasn't there in the first place?

I should've known Tina and Russ liked each other. I was utterly blind not to see it and totally arrogant to think the he could like me. All that time I was vocally gawking over Russ to Tina, she was liking him. Why the hell did she tell me she wanted to set me up with him, then? And, ultimately, what difference does it make? It's time I came down to earth. I just didn't know it would be such a hard landing.

You know, sometimes I could hate her. Sometimes, I think I could rip her hair out with my bare hands. It totally sucks to have a best friend who is pretty and beautiful and smart and a total flirt. She just crooks her little finger at guys and I swear they actually PANT at her.

But, I can't be angry with her. She can't help it. And she liked Russ long before I ever even knew his name. I should've known that if she talked about him all the time, she liked him for more than a friend. She's the one who used to talk about him constantly and acting as if she wanted to get us together was a ruse.

I know I promised I wasn't going to say this anymore, but this is a special circumstance: I don't give a sh*t. Not one puny sh*t. I mean, I don't even know him. Just because I've never met anyone I liked so much or felt like I knew them without knowing them doesn't mean I like him better than she does or anything.

It doesn't matter. You know, me and Tina haven't been doing well friendship wise and I know she wants me to leave. I will. I need to. If I stay here, no matter how hard I try, I'll resent them and be jealous.

So, I'm going to forget how I feel about Russ, like it was another stupid crush. But I know it WASN'T. Wait, I've got to stop thinking that! It was a stupid crush, except it totally wasn't. It could've been real, true love. But, Tina loves Russ and it can't matter. It won't matter. It already DOESN'T matter.

I can't hate my best friend for being stunningly beautiful and sweet and talented or stupid guys because that's all they care about. I'm going to pretend to be happy. But I'm sick of that. It's exhausting. Still, it's time to stop being a sniveling, selfish witch and just be happy for her. After all, she's SUPPOSED to be my best friend. She is so good to me and I'm returning it with evil.

Maybe I should pray. But I think it would help more to write a poem. Besides, I wrote sh*t in here, because right now my life is sh*t and my attitude is sh*t.

Sister Housekeeper says that angels record everything we do and say and report it back to God, and she said if we write it, they record it twice so it's twice as bad. Or something like that. So, maybe I should wait a little bit before trying to pray about it because maybe He is still mad and I should wait until He has time to cool down and for His ears to stop burning.

So, I'll write a poem instead. I'm going to call it NEVER.**

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A note from 2009.

*Interesting that 1989 me is just figuring out what a fool I'm making of myself. And, that 1989 me doesn't really care...A harbinger of things to come, obviously.

**I really need to work up the courage to post this really horrid poem in here. It is. just. so. pathetic.

and the number one reason of the top ten reasons for going to church is............. July 1989

I've never met anyone like Russ. I'm supposed to be thinking about Burgess. But Burgess won't sing, he hates skiing, and we're all wrong for each other.

Also, his religion hates Mormons. And Brian and Doug call him Ambergris. Which means whale puke, or something.

Not that I care. I'm so sure. They make up nicknames for anyone I like.

I don't know what to do.

Well, all three of us, Tina, me and Russ are going to the movies on Friday and I'll see him tomorrow at the Youth Activity. Man, I really can't think of a better reason to go to church than a super great guy like Russ! I've never known anyone so wonderful.

Caio!

here i go again...July 1989

Right now, I'm outside in Tina's front yard, trying desperately to get a tan. I actually hate laying out. I get all sweaty and red and lightheaded and it's uncomfortable to read because I'm not on my tummy in a big comfy bed and I'm not in a huge soft chair. I'm on a lawn chair that puts waffle patterns on my butt . All for a stupid tan that I won't get anyway because I just burn and go white again. sigh.

Yakima isn't a bad place at all - kinda fun. I guess any place besides Lacey is fun. For the last few days we've been fixing up these duplexes that Arnold (Tina's step dad) owns. Saturday me and Tina went shopping and then worked on the duplex.

Sunday we went to church, of course. I got up really early and took three hours to get ready just in case Russ was there and he wasn't. But Tina kept complaining that these guys were looking at me. RIGHT. Guys will check out anyone new. But my hair was really high that day, so maybe.

That's the first time I've been to church in three months. ON Friday there was a mother daughter outing up at this cool lodge in the mountains. I got to know a lot of the girls. Russ's sister, Heather, was there. She seemed kind of shy so me and Tina drew her out. She's totally sweet. She's only 13 but she acts much older, like us.

Anyway, we talked about a lot of things, including Russ, but SHE totally brought him up. We stayed up til about 2am, but they weren't in church.

Now for the big stuff!!!!!

************************************************

Yesterday was TOTALLY GREAT! We all got up in the morning and worked on the duplex. We came home around four and I slept until about 5:30pm. I got into the shower right after that, and I didn't know it but Tina called Russ. They were still on the phone when I got out of the shower.

It turned out that he found out our parents (actually Tina's) weren't home so he said he was coming to babysit us. Tina told him that was cold. I hope he was kidding! After all, I'm 15 and he's only 16 and I've dated guys 7 years older than him. Well, at least I've LIKED guys 7 years older than him. I guess that isn't actually dating... But he doesn't know that.

Anyway, when he finally got here me and Tina were ready to go. We all talked for a while. He didn't really seem to notice I was there. So he invited me and Tina to go swimming with him. We all took off in his truck, music up full blast, windows down, lots of laughter.

When we got to Russ's friends house, his friend was gone, so we waited for about 45 minutes. During that time, I think I had one of the most interesting conversations of my life. We were all sitting there, Russ at the wheel, Tina in the middle and me on the other end. Mostly we listened to music. VERY interesting music. Russ finally opened up and sang for us.

HE HAS THE

BEST VOICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm totally in love. I swear by all that's holy. He can SING and he DRIVES and he SKIIS. And he hates moguls TOO. The only thing I can find wrong with him is he doesn't like Depeche Mode and Alphaville, the booger. But, what can I say. He is PERFECT for me.

I've never been so infatuated. He plays about 20 instruments. He's FUNNY. He's SWEET. And he loves music as much or more than I do. He's in a band and he believes in democracy. (That's a joke). His favorite song is "Who do you give your love to?" I LOVE that song!!!!

And, he goes to our church. He's a good member but he's not all church and Molly Mormon or Peter Priesthood type.

He's everything I ever dreamed of. I bet he's taken.

After we waited for a while, we went to the reservation and he bought fireworks. He's so cool.

Ok, I'm burning. I'll write more later. Ciao!

not-love, perv-love, church-love, and love-love...June 1989

You know that phrase, absence makes the heart grow fonder...? Well, it's a LIE!

I hardly think of Burgess. I know it's cold, but I can't help the way I feel. I'll never hurt him, not even at my own expense! But I don't love him. It's not a word to be thrown around and I'm not going to use it if I don't mean it.

Besides, I kind of like BAD boys! But, a good girl can't stay a good girl and like a bad boy. Watch out for perv-love! So, I need to find an asi asi (so so) bad boy. (I'm learning Spanish!)

I've met a wonderful guy named Russ. He's so cool, but his name is lamers. Gek! I'll have to give him a nickname when I talk about him to my friends. Anyway, he's soooooooooo musically talented. I admire him and I want to know him better.

Music is my life, my soul, and my passion. I'd never be able to go on without it. The drive, the romance in life would all be taken away. Burgess doesn't get into music, and that's tough on me.

If I stay in Yakima all summer, I don't know what will happen to Burgess and me. But I do hope to become good, close friends with Russ. He's a wonderful human being. Plus, he's the only Mormon I've ever liked. Except Doug [aka Ben]. Well, I also love Brian [aka Charles], but that's church-love. And perv-love is what I felt for Rob. But what I feel for Russ could become love-love!

I really have to get some sleep now, so ---

CAIO!
(chow)

I think chow is French or something.

Always,
me

becoming molly and other short lived resolves...June 1989

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]

a whole summer without drama...June 1989

What am I going to do for a whole summer without drama? Drama has been my security blanket, the theater my home, "Bye Bye Birdie" my life. And now that it's over I'm vegetating and trying to put off choices and decisions I need to make.

I've quit going to church for at least eight weeks. It's been heaven even though I'll probably burn in hell for it. How ironic. Ahhh, those fiery gates. Actually, we don't believe in fiery gates, or pearly ones for that matter - or any gates at all that I can think of, at least literally anyway.

Of course, I plan on going back. Dad said I can take my time. I think he'd quit church, too, if he could. He kind of already has quit. He just goes and sits in the hallway and talks to people during class. That's not actually going to church. I mean, technically it is but I don't think you get any heaven points for it.

I told Dad I'll go back to church when all the clicky [sic] perfect girls with their huge families and "beyond a shadow of a doubt" testimonies keel over and become worm infested corpses. Nah. I'm just joshin'! Dad said that the church is true but the people aren't. What the hell is that supposed to mean? That the building itself is plumb but the people are six ways from Sunday?

So I said, "It's called the Church of Latter Day Saints. Aren't they supposed to act like Saints, then?" He said we're supposed to TRY to act like saints. Well, I'm not going to act like one and feel all bored and excluded if the people who actually think they fit that description are all stuck up and annoying and think they rule the universe. Which they DON'T. DUH. Blech.

Here are MY future dreams. A successful career in Psychology and a senior trip to Australia with a passionate love affair where someone finally kisses me on the collarbones. A sidelight of singing and acting, a beautiful, clean, clear glass flat shared with Anna/Tina* and Emily/Renee until we all marry and have some rug rat brats. Just Kidding!

More recent dreams: ski school, losing weight, taking up the offer to model hair styles for Mark Ford from Totally You! I think I need to lose like 50 pounds first, so my cheek bones really stick out! Good grades next year, vocal lessons and a thriving acting education in Performing Arts. Good friends. Good times!

My goals for tomorrow: running, Diary Queen application, long not serious talks with Anna/Tina.

fair warning - a note from 2009

In answer to the question asked most frequently: Yes, teenage girls are actually crazy. Maybe they vary in degrees of craziness, but on the crazy scale I'd put my teenage self smack dead in the middle. Of course, I'm not one to be objective.

In response to some recent feedback, both written and verbal, I'm considering using actual first names in here consistently.

Now, that said, I realize my readers number approximately 9 people. And, of those 9 people 99.99%:
---are in the actual diary
---will be in the diary
---know people in the diary
---spend most of their 80sangst blog reading time matching real names to pseudonyms and are sort of sick of doing so

Contact me at 80sangst@gmail.com if you have one of the following preferences:
---You're in the diary/blog and don't care if I use your real first name
---You're in the diary/blog and you'll be mortified if I use your real first name
---You don't know if you're in the diary/blog and you don't want to know

I guess if you're in the diary and you don't read the blog and you don't see this note, anything could happen...Mwah hah hah.

a painful past that really isn't my past and really isn't painful...June 1989

Ok, so Silas's real name is Burgess. It's just an uncommon name, and I was trying to spare him. But, there you go. Now no one has to wonder.

Burgess has a strong emotional hold on me. We've been through a lot together. Ok, well, not so much. I just met him last semester. But, we've been through a lot for such a short time.

Anyway, he's a large influence on my life at the moment. But I can keep my head about him. I guess this IS love. Because it's not lost and searching, it's not searing pain and elating happiness. It's comfort and sharing and so much more that I can't explain.

I have a painful past and so does he. He talks about his and I don't talk about mine because I don't know what's fake and made-up and what isn't. It's all weird and if he brings it up, I won't be able to explain and then he'll be hurt and I won't be able to fix that either.

Sometimes I wish I could go back to being blindly in love with Ben or physically crazy about Rob. They both hurt but they weren't confusing. I've stepped in to something with Burgess that I don't know if I can handle it or not. I'm always careful and on guard. AND he hasn't held my hand or kissed me. I mean, what is the point of going out if you're not going to KISS?

I miss nths and my friends there dreadfully. I no longer feel alone at ths. Although most of my friends there/here were seniors, and graduated. Still, that doesn't stop those pangs every time I hear a certain song on the radio or read old notes and see old (6 months ago!) pictures. I miss Roger and my close guy friends. I especially miss my comfortable clique. It was so easy.

I miss Mac and Mike and ski school and I can't wait to hit those slopes (literally - I can't actually ski). Mike FINALLY graduated. He was a truly bizarre person and a sweetheart. A lot like a teddy bear with vulgar habits. So endearing. And MAC: sensual, giving new dimensions to the word "BUF" and a complete a**hole but I couldn't help loving his perverted, sexy, overwhelming attentions. I haven't seen him for over 4 months. Long time.

Oh well. Times change & gotta move on.

at long last...June 1989

I OFFICIALLY have a boyfriend. I know, it's shocking, isn't it? Silas and I are a happy couple. I miss him whenever we're apart.

He's VP of the sophomore class, good looking, respectful, kind, and he actually showed me what the inside of a BMW looks like because his Mom drove us to the movies. I didn't want to be totally tacky, but I was in awe the whole time. "So, this is what rich people ride around in all day," was what I kept thinking.

More than anything, though, he's just a really sweet human being. He kept writing notes to me and I kept writing back (during Algebra. I think I failed Algebra) and then he asked me to the movies and then he asked me out.

He didn't hold my hand at the movies. I was like, sheesh, I'm finally out on a date with a guy and my hand is sitting RIGHT there on the armrest and he didn't grab it. I started to feel dumb but then I thought it would be obvious if I put it back in my lap.

So the whole movie, all I could think was that my hand was on the armrest and I have NO idea what the movie was about or anything. I could just see my very white hand glowing from the light of the movie screen and smell the popcorn I couldn't eat. Everything felt oily and weird.

So, even having a boyfriend doesn't make the whole love thing any easier. So much for getting kissed on the collarbones! Oh well, maybe we'll date until we're seniors and by then, at prom, he'll kiss me, just once, on the collarbones. I might even have to ask him to. I wonder if there is such thing as being TOO respectful.

And he's Matt's best friend. And I think Emily is going to dump Matt for a totally jerky sophomore. So much for double dating! Anyway, Silas feels things really deeply and he's passionate about all the important things and he's really caring.

Sometimes I think a friendship would be better for us because although I love him with all my heart, I'm not IN love. He wears his shirts buttoned up and his shorts always look freshly ironed. His loafers are like this super soft leather, without any marks from water, which is hard to do cause it rains constantly.

He's as careful as he is caring - I feel like he wants me to be fragile. He's so gentle with me. He never raises his voice. And I'm not like that - couldn't be if I tried. He's a dream come true for my parents, not that I've let him see my house. When we went to the movies, he picked me up at Emily's. He just cannot know what my house looks like. I don't think he'd care, but I think his parents would care, and I DEFINITELY care.

Ben and Charles say he's stuffy, but I think he's going places. And the thing is, I want to get out of here. Our city is small, and it's like a little bedroom community that's an island inside of the Capitol, but nothing ever happens here. It has really picked up since I started high school, but football games and plays and all that stuff only goes so far. I'm not ready for life to end with graduation.

No one knows that I'm not crazy in love with Silas except Anna. Kir and Kri say we're the sweetest couple. So nice and smart without being geeky. I could date him forever and ever without it ever going anywhere, and yet he's the only guy I've met here who plans to move away and do something else somewhere else.

I would never hurt Silas in any way, not intentionally, not inadvertently, not ever. And he's REALLY super great! After all, life is WONDERFUL!

nerds, jocks, and performing arts....june 1989

Whew. I haven't written, I mean REALLY written since April! And so much has happened! I've forgotten half of it already and I can't bring it back. The last days of my freshman year were a BLAST!

I've become entangled in DRAMA at THS. I made Performing Arts. It's the drama class you have to audition for. Thank goodness Noel B. made it cool to be in Drama. He's a jock and he was in Grease and everybody loves him. So drama at THS doesn't have the stigma that it does at NTHS.

Plus, the Drama coach, K., just separated from her husband and she is totally gorgeous, so now all of Noel's jock friends are joining drama.

K. has these enormous aqua colored eyes and long strawberry blonde, naturally curly hair and a super throaty voice. And, she's demanding but funny. Plus, she's a teacher, so she's untouchable. Guys LOVE that combo. It is so funny. Like they stand a chance! But, I guess that's half the point. I don't get it. It's like guys live for being shot down or something.

Even my parents were happy when I made Performing Arts. Not that they care if I'm a nerd, (because they are TOTALLY nerds) but they know it's a HUGE deal at THS to make PA as a frosh going into the Sophomore year. I don't mean to sound conceited, but it is!

For the audition, I performed a monologue that I wrote myself. Which I didn't admit at first because I was too embarrassed. But then I did confess and I still made it, which was cool.

I thought I'd ruined my chances because last semester when we were doing these improv exercises for our final, I got stuck with one where I was supposed to be drunk. But, I've never been drunk and I've never even been around drunk people - except M. that ONE time - and so I know I wasn't a very convincing drunk person. It was embarrassing!

I would LOVE to train for Broadway. But, I can't dance AT ALL. And I would say my voice is ok, but not powerful. I got some solos in choir this year, but I'm not trained, as Emily's older sister so kindly pointed out. It makes me sound like a dog or something!

Anyway, so much for being a triple threat! Emily says I can take voice lessons, but I don't know anyone who teaches them. And, I've taken dance lessons. They don't help, believe me. The instructor kept coming over and standing next to me and showing me how to do the stupid steps and I still couldn't get it right. It's like I don't live in my body or something.

So, now I'm a sophomore! Whoah! I have so many memories! The whirling, full social life (FINALLY), so many dreams made reality, the parties at the cabin after the play ended. Lots of people were drinking there, mind you, BUT

#1. Emily and I stayed in the hammock on the front porch and looked at the stars because she's on dance team and can't be at a drinking party so she was freaking out, and I don't drink (of course) AND

#2. The cabin parties happened AFTER drama finals so it's not liked they were helpful to my craft in any way...