Monday, April 7, 2008


These are my journals. All 19 of them, numbered. I’ve been writing in them since my first semester of high school in 1999. Over the last two years, I’ve hardly written anything. (That’s changing though...thanks, Blog.)

A good chunk of them (2002-2008) are great to look back on for me. I see so much growth from myself—first love, the divorce, developing my independence and contemplating decisions to choose a career. It’s not always easy to read but it’s nice to see where I’ve been and where I am today.

All of the early high school journals are terrible. I mean, self-involved, narcissistic bratty high-school stuff. I pretty much would spend all my class time pouring over these things, scribbling out the latest goss about who I like, who likes me, what I was wearing and how awesomely awesome I was.

I literally shudder when I peek into those things. I’ve thought about pitching them out so many times. Why not? I’m not exactly saving them for my memoirs. Maybe, I think, they could offer me some insight into my future teenagers’ lives? But, this girl isn’t getting preggers anytime soon.

Over the weekend, I had the pleasure of hanging out with Miss Chelsey Dyer. She told me about a particular This American Life( a Chicago Public Radio program) broadcast she’d learned about from work. The broadcast is called My Experimental Phase and included an excerpt of a live performance series called Mortified, in which people read their childhood diaries in front of an audience. Pure brilliance. Mortified is exactly the word I’ve been looking for when I read the young journals. After very little research on Mortified, it's apparent that it's a big favorite across the nation. How have I missed this for so long?

The one Chelsey shared with me was of a writer named Sascha Rothchild who read her diary from when she was 13, going to public school for the first time and experiencing stuff that not many people get exposed to until they’re in college. It’s hysterical and I urge everyone to give it a listen to when they have time. Fast-forward to her story around the 49-minute mark. You’ll be addicted.

No comments: