"Is that your diary?" "NO! It's a journal where I put all my intimate secrets, fears, and triumphs."
When I was in middle school I used to have a diary that I kept in my desk at school, since apparently 8 year old me is a dumba$$. At the time I was both astonished and horrified that the popular girls had taken my diary and read aloud all the appraisals I had made of the physical appearance of a boy in my class. This meaning I wrote “Oh my God, Justin is sooooooooo hotttttttt.” When I was discovered, being the b@tch I am, I instantly outed my friend as having the same appraisals of Justin’s appearance, and we both had to go through the day being embarrassed.
Was my head always that big? OMG! Is it big now?!
It used to be that this was the only way I could embarrass myself—by overestimating humanity, and having it shit in my shoes to spite me. That is until I Googled my name and found a picture of me in my school uniform striking a pose and lamenting about my love of Stephenie Meyer. For those of you without tits and a vagina, this is the author that spawned “Twilight”. f@ck.
Literally minutes before I posted this I went to edit my You Tube page and found that not only had I listed “Heroes” as one of my favourite movies (it was a TV show btw), but that in an attempt to project high self-esteem despite my low self-esteem, my profile was littered with comments where I complimented my own physical appearance.
I’ve never heard my mom say that she’s disappointed with me, and she won’t ever have to. Thanks to the internet’s preserving capabilities, I will have more than enough chances to be disappointed in myself. In a couple years I’ll probably look back on this blog and be disappointed by the amount of swearing on it. But for now… I’m say whatever I firetrucking feel like.
My Life is Moderately Amusing 