For reason I'll keep to myself, I'm reading my old diaries. I gotta tell you, if you're a teenager or have a teenager, please, keep a diary or tell them to keep a diary.
I love pulling out my diaries and reading them. I laugh out loud every other page. I kept them for seventeen years and after I got married, moved more to prayer and spiritual journaling. Although, my tossed up diary prayers like, "Oh, God, please let him ask me out," could be considered spiritual. A-hem.
This from April 13, '77.
"Oh, guess what? Partner (a nickname for a co-worker) told me Mr. Fisher (Publix manager, name changed to protect the innocent) is being transfered, even demoted! I 'bout died. There goes the ole ball game."
ROFLOL. What sixteen year old writes, "there goes the ole ball game." In 1977. Too, too funny. Okay, maybe you had to be there. Maybe you have to be me, but I think it's funny.