October 3, 1971:
"Today I got this diary, hotpants, transistor radio and a record. We went bowling tonight."
Yes, this was the first amazing entry in my new Five Year Diary - a gift I received that day for my 11th birthday.
What riveting details!
To be fair though, it was hard to fit in anything comprehensible into that book; each page was split into five sections, allowing only four short lines available to record each day's experiences. And with my blocky handwriting, I was forced to be succinct or use unintelligible shorthand terms to chronicle my daily exploits. I am still scratching my head at a few of them...
Yes, I failed miserably to create a coherent history of my daily goings on, as only about 10% of the little book is filled in.
A definite pattern is there though. It seems I would faithfully pencil in an entry for weeks on end and then a slew of blank pages would follow until the next block of recordings emerged months later.
I now remember this was because I kept losing then rediscovering that Damn Tiny Key©. I had to hide it from my older brother and sometimes I hid it so well, I forgot where the heck I put it.
Like in 1972. My last entry was April 4th. Then nothing until July 3rd:
"Today I finally found my key to the diary. I was really relieved to find it."
So relieved, it seems, that I didn't write another word until January 1st, 1973.
(And I don't know why I didn't just use a paper clip to pry it open; that so-called "lock" was the lamest device ever invented.)
Thirty-or-so years later, I opened up that book again for
blog fodder a laugh and the memories swept back. I was surprised to find photos of friends, artwork, newspaper clippings and even a rose petal pressed inside. Even though they are short, those scribbles still make me smile, sad, or plain embarrassed.
"I met a hunky guy today..."
"Hunky????" (note to self: DON'T show that part to hubby or daughter...)
How I wish I had been more diligent in recording my activities.
I wonder if thirty-or-so years from now, I'll still be able to read my blog and smile, be sad or plain embarassed about this time of my life.
Although these runs of days without a new post is deja vu all over again.
Except I can't blame my absence for the lack of a Damn Tiny Key©.
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