Dear Diary

Because my friend Rhea is doing an art project looking for teenage angst diary entries, I share the following with you. Those of you who know the epic tale “I coulda cried” will recognize some of these events. Note: these are actual journal entries – a handful out of THREE FULL DIARIES.

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I know CBC has a program called “Adults Read Things They Wrote as Kids”, and trust me, the main reason I’ve never submitted to this show is because PEOPLE WOULDN’T BELIEVE ME.

I am laughing so hard I’m crying. You can’t make this shit up:

November 9, 1986
Dear Diary,
You know the saying, ‘you never know you’re in love until it’s too late’ is absolutely right. I think I did love Chris. If I didn’t love him, I sure liked him a hell of a lot. God, what I wouldn’t do to have him back. Devin gave up on me, thank God [poor Devin!]! Last Friday at the Hallowe’en dance, I avoided him – on purpose – all night. It worked just perfect [what a bitch I was]. I’m so damned jealous of Mike and Tracy I could barf. They’ve been going out for 3 months now! Chris and I went out for a whole two weeks. Wow, huh? Also, Eugene, this chick that likes me [I had a thing for calling guys ‘chicks’], well he shot his finger off with a shotgun. Smart, hey? I just can’t stop thinking about Chris. Even when I’m alone. Especially when I’m alone. I think I’m going to stop rating my days. They make me to depressed when I look back on them.

So goodnight, Diary. I’ll call if anything exciting happens.

Monday, November 26, 1986
Dear Diary,
I got a B in my flute solo in Saskatoon, and a 76 average on my report card [slacker].

B day

Tuesday, November 25, 1986
Dear Diary,
Today, my baby [Wildebeest the Cat] died.


Sunday, June 7th, 1987
Dear Diary,
We got a puppy! He is pure black except for a small white stripe down his chest. I call him Mike. He is part Lab & part Husky, he is huge for his age, he will be a VERY strong dog. He is only 4 weeks old, and already, when you put his paw in your hand, it almost covers your whole hand. I love Mike. He is a sub for the boy I need so desperately.

Sunday, June 14th, 1987
Well, we’ve a new puppy.
Dad ran over Mike with the truck. He really feels bad about it, too. Anyway, SAMBO, our new puppy, looks exactly the same as Mike, except she’s female – so, not as big or strong [WTF ME]. Too bad. Mike would have been REALLY strong. Oh well. I love Sambot, too, even though I do miss Mike & I still love him.

“Any Day Now”
I just wish, diary. I just wish. So many things have gone wrong in the past year. Chris leaves me [I dated this guy for two weeks in grade 8], Baby dies. 2 of Baby’s babies die. Mike dies. No one likes me now. Fuck. Chris was very special to me. If I ever seen him again (romantically), I will never let him go. If he ever wants to ever go out again, just ask Jill.

August 17th 1987
Dear Diary,
This is the best summer I’ve had since ’84. All kinds of guys are interested in me. I’ve had a perfect summer. I only hope the school year is just as rewarding. I’m glad you’re here to listen, diary. Thanx [sic]

November 4, 1987
Dear Diary,
I’ve changed my mind almost completely. I gave up on: [litany of boys I ‘gave up on’], and Chris likes Mel anyway. Marks [litany of marks]. Oh Diary, why does everyone hate me? I’m in a play which makes me feel a bit more popular, and stage band, too. I hope Chris B. likes me…I hope SOMEONE likes me. But mostly Chris B. P.S. Daddy had to shoot SAMBO. It’s best for her but I’ll miss her. Not as much as Mike though.


One response to “Dear Diary”

  1. DerKaptin Avatar

    Seriously? “Dad had to shoot Sambo” and that’s all we get? No reason for the savagery? Geez.
    Interesting, though, that your bdf was named Mike…

i make squee noises when you tell me stuff.

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