Ohmigawd, you guys.
I found all my old diaries from the early 90’s! No! SERIOUSLY! I opened a cupboard in my dad’s office and there they were, stacked with all my VHS tapes. And what better exercise in memories, nostalgia, and embarrassment than typing them out and commenting of them for you to enjoy.
The first diary is black with a grey tabby cat sleeping on the cover. The kitty is also holding a teddy bear. Awww… how sweet. I think I actually remember buying this one from a school reading thing? None of these books are in order. I think I just wrote from one to the next willy-nilly style. I’ll start with one before moving to the next. The keys are long gone to all these diaries, but they have the flimsy, easily breakable locks on them, so it’s not like they were a challenge to anyone who might want to break in. However, it’s honestly not as if I had to worry about that. The only person who might take a diary is a brother, and while I have one of those (HI FINDLAY!) it’s not like he was interested in my thrilling life. Hell, I wasn’t even interested in my thrilling life.
So let’s begin, turning back the clock to February 21st, 1994. When I was nine. Oh, this is going to be good.
