Thursday 24 November 2011

Blast from the Past

I hauled out an old diary tonight. My teenage years were spent scribbling in books, which I think accounts for my excellent memory and impossibly neat handwriting. I like reading back over them from time to time, although sometimes I really want a time machine so I can go back and give myself a good shake. Also sometimes I forget who the people I'm talking about are. Today I discovered a November 1993 scandal that Jodie Simmons was 5 months pregnant and moving to Wales. I have no idea who that is.

Here's my (very brief) entry for Wednesday, November 24th, 1993.

Did better in bowling today - came 3rd out of 4th (1). And I got a strike. Otherwise nothing interesting has really happened today (2), unless you count seeing Glyn (3) on the way home - I don't think I do anymore. Yesterday's snow has melted but it's still freezing cold.

(1) The previous week's entry confirms that this pathetic showing was indeed better - then, I'd failed to score even half of what the next lowest scorer had achieved. Bowling was our PE option in year 11. We used to walk to the bowling alley and back, which was around 40 minutes and much better exercise than standing around, sulky and blue-legged, on a lacrosse pitch. Crafty.

(2) Since I was regularly a bit behind in my diary writing, it's possible that this is code for, "I can't remember what happened today."

(3) THE crush of my teen years. Recently popped up again on Facebook, being just a little bit creepy. Diary entries suggest he was always a little bit creepy, but that I failed to notice at the time. I have, for example, an After Eight wrapper in my diary that he thrust down the front of my dress at a fancy dinner. I was 15; he was an undergrad. The teacher in me has alarm bells going off.
I know it seems weird keeping an After Eight wrapper, but I kept pretty much everything I could cram into my diary. It's full of receipts and tickets. I think my GCSE papers are probably in one of them somewhere.

This is the one problem with keeping a blog instead of a diary: since 2001, I haven't had anywhere to store all those bits and pieces and I've had to, shock, THROW THEM AWAY. But at least I don't have to worry about rescuing my blog if there was a house fire.

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