When I was fifteen, a year was an eternity – long enough for me to become “a completely different person”. I’ve always had a morbid inclination to nostalgia. Upon turning ten years old, my diary entry lamented the fact my age would never be a single digit again. In this entry, I mournfully reflect on where I was less than eleven months ago – “Gone forever, now.” (Or was this a premonition? True Fact: Jefferson Jr. High is literally gone forever, now, razed to build office buildings.)
Time accelerated as I aged. I wish years still crawled like they did when I was fifteen but instead they fly. Preferring Paul McCartney to Mark Lindsay is no longer grounds to dissolve a friendship.
One thing remains the same – my fascination (some might use the word obsession) with the past. Why else would I blog about old diary entries?
It was a thrill to connect with a few other people (Rebecca Dormire LaRussa and Robin Rutan Russell) who lived through the momentous election of 1964 (not Goldwater-Kennedy, the Jefferson Junior High election for student body officers.) This could never happen without Facebook; the fact that it happened so easily, with my very first diary-blog, reassures me this effort is worth it. With luck, I’ll connect with other people whose paths crossed mine. (Hopefully, these diary entries won’t hurt anyone’s feelings. I could be a catty little bitch in the privacy of my diary.)
Sandra (Sandy) May 3, 2016 at 3:00 pm
I just LOVE how you write and bring back so many memories from our youth. That photo of Paul is to die for!! It is no wonder we were so smitten. Hey, it is YOUR diary, after all…if someone is offended, then they need to stop reading (or just get over it). You’re very brave to put your diary entries out for others to read and add comments. When I think of some of the trivial things us ‘girls’ would get upset about, it was ridiculously funny. Everything was about the battling of the bands in that time. Someone once called me a “traitor” because I started liking the Beach Boys more than the Beatles for a ‘phase’ I was going through…I don’t remember if that was you or someone else in our little circle–I confess my memory is not nearly as keen as yours! “Thanks for the memories!”