It's week three of my monthlong look into MY teenage mind. I'm going to let this entry stand alone. Because it is THAT bad.
From my diary, age 14, freshman year:
This morning, Mom put hot rollers in my hair and I wore these new thick and clunky shoes and new jeans. Everyone said I looked like Drew Barrymore! You-know-who even said, "Your hair looks great. I mean. Well. It looks better than when it was straight. There. Are you happy?" I didn't quite understand that.
We bombed Iraq today. It might start another war. Oh well, they can't bomb us!
Thing I've Learned:
Holy crap. There are no words. Let's get the obvious out of the way: War? Bombings? Total afterthought to how totally cute I looked. Could I have been more self-centered? I guess that IS part of being a teenager. And you know what, Little Anna? Yeah, they COULD have bombed us.
And did you see what you-know-who said? Boys are clueless. He was probably trying to compliment me, but ended up messing it up bigtime.
Finally: I love the '90s. Clunky shoes? Drew Barrymore hair? Classic.