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...

the ten top reasons to overdose on nyquil. or be thankful. or whatever!

A lot to be grateful for lately, really. I'm surrounded by friends - the kind that keep my spirits up even when things go from bad to worse.

Mom gave me a book today. The title is (I'm not kidding you...) Joy! Puke-O-Rama. It's enough to make me want to overdose on Nyquil. But, I know she means well. I mean, I know I've got a lot to be thankful for, but I also have a lot to worry about, remember, and ponder.

Rob is over, for whatever that's worth. But Silas and I are doing great! We're not going out yet officially. We just keep passing notes.

This sophomore, who is actually good looking, told Emily to tell me that he likes me. I think Matt and Emily are going to break up because she likes this guy's (the sophomore's) best friend, who is also a sophomore. She says it's so much cooler to date a sophomore than a freshman.

I think Emily needs to get a grip, even though we're in the play together and she is so sweet to me. Matt is so nice and has those awesome, piercing blue eyes. But, it's not like I can tell Matt that I like him because Silas is his best friend. It's SO COMPLICATED.

The play is going great! SO much has happened! We went to Bellingham and stayed in hotels for a huge festival. I need a whole day just to write about that one weekend! But, I need some sleep. I haven't slept since Sunday night - 48 hours!

And, I still have to do some homework. Can you believe I've got a C in Algebra? It's almost a D! I've never had a C in anything in my life. It's AWESOME! I think my days of being a nerd are officially OVER.

pictionary, taboo, and another wild and crazy saturday night ...April 1989

Rob is over. And M. hates me for some reason only she understands. But, I'm still alive so I guess I'm ok. Besides, Rob wasn't in my age range and I go to Anna's soon for summer vacation. My brother will be home soon (from college) so that's good.

And I tried to pray last night. My mind kept wandering to homework and other school stuff and I kept apologizing because it must be like having a conversation with someone who just trails off all the time. Which my dad does a lot, so I know how irritating it is. I don't mean to be irreverent, but I really wonder what God does when my prayers sort of wander off. Does He take a break from listening to me, or does He know it's going to happen so He plans to do something else during that time? Or, is time different to Him, so He just fast forwards? Does He send an angel of some kind to come listen for a while until I focus again?

I hung out with Ben and Charles at their house tonight. We played Pictionary (I can guess, but not draw, so it's kind of pathetic) and then Phoebe came over and we played Taboo. It was really easy to figure out the words, even though we couldn't say any related words, because we've known each other so long. Like one word was "dentist" and we couldn't say tooth or drill or anything, but it didn't matter because Phoebe's dad is a dentist, so Charles yells, "Phoebe's dad!" and we guessed it right away.

Then, Phoebe had to go home cuz she has this wicked early curfew, so we all walked her home and chatted in the front yard and the sky didn't have any stars so it wasn't that romantic and I could tell Phoebe was walking close to Ben on purpose, which made me glad for the 400 millionth time that I'm over him. Then we walked back and had to go down this street called Ruddell Loop. It is really dark and super creepy with no lights and so Charles and Ben kept scaring me.

When we got back to Greenlawn Street, Ben and Charles made tapioca pudding, which I've never had before and I'll never be able to eat, because they pretended to sneeze it into their hands and acted like they puked it onto the counter. It was so NASTY, but funny. I'm one of the guys, and that's cool.

three deaths and a crying baby....april 1989

Well, I sat around all spring break and rotted. It wuz great! Anna came to visit and me and Charles are doing great again.

Then, things for Charles are a little hard right now. His grandfather died yesterday and I feel bad for him even though I don't understand what he's going through, really. I've never experienced the death of someone close to me.

My cousin died of leukemia but I didn't know him very well. They came all the way up from New Mexico because the hospital here specializes in leukemia treatment. Mom and Dad and me visited him in the hospital and he threw up green stuff. He was so weak, his Mom had to push him forward to throw up. She just sat there, watching him the whole time and holding the bowl for him and she never said a word. She just put her hand on his hair or his back.

We didn't stay very long. I know I shouldn't say this, but I was glad to go. I just stood there feeling stupid and grossed out and horrible because none of them looked like themselves in that awful lighting with those terrible plastic chairs and my uncle was so thin that he looked bent.

The only other time I've known someone who had to deal with death was when Sister Isabel's baby died and she moved away. I think staying here was too painful for her. I was so sad that she moved away but I knew I couldn't possibly feel how sad she was.

I thought of trying to get pregnant and giving her the baby, but it wouldn't have been her baby, for one thing. And for another, I would've had to do U KNOW WHAT which is exactly what she spent hours at church teaching us not to do until we're married.

And it's not like I can just go marry someone because I'm only 14 and then if we got married and I got pregnant and I gave the baby away, what then? The guy I married would know he just married a crazy person. Plus, then I'm stuck with a husband I only married so I could have a baby to give to someone else.

I suppose I could get married, get pregnant, not tell him, get divorced, give the baby to Sister Isabel, and run away. But I don't see her liking that very much, either. Like I said before, she wanted her own baby, not somebody else's.

Anyway, none of this gets me any closer to helping Charles or being there for him.

So, while I'm trying to be there for Charles like he always has been for me, I want to be real about it. Charles sez he is doing ok. He is more worried about his mom (it was her dad who died) and his little brother, who has cried pretty much constantly since his Grandpa died. Poor kid.

I think Charles's little brother is pretty emotional in general, though. He cried a lot as a baby, too. My mom took care of him once and he cried ALL DAY. I got so jealous of her paying so much attention to him that I pinched him. It's not like it made any difference in how much he cried. Sure, he cried even HARDER for a minute, but then it was back to the same old bawling.

What if I'm being fake to try to be there for Charles and understand? It's not like I have anything helpful to say or do. I'm trying to pull myself together but I guess not hard enough.