Maybe all I need is just a little Patience
In case you ever want to blackmail me, a useful thing to know is that I've kept a diary since I was 8 years old. My second entry ever (6/12/84) talks about playing Three's Company at Sharon Lake with Devin Quinn and Rebecca, and if that doesn't shed any light on why this blog is named after the Regal Begal, then I don't know what to tell you.
Diary entries were sporadic at first, (like, if I held hands in gym class), peaked between middle school and college (angst-ridden HOURS of John Hughes-worthy entertainment), and have been winding down ever since as my handwriting gets worse and fewer boys are thrown into my daily routine. At this point I basically just keep a journal around for posterity - kind of a tangible written record of how my dating life sucks in case I ever get lucky enough to forget. And of course where I print thoughts not relatable here for fear that my family will have me in a straightjacket before I can fully shut down the computer.
I'm sharing this Lori-ism because I was at a total loss for things to write about tonight, so I consulted my memoirs to see if November 1st had ever held any significance. I'm sad to report that over 21 years, it really didn't. I came across only one entry from 11/1, this gem from 1989 referring to our 8th grade Halloween dance (picture me with big bangs, braces, and a bad attitude, like, okay?):
"When Brian and I were dancing to the song 'Patience' by Guns N Roses, he sang some of it, I think, directed to me. He didn't sing all of it, just the parts that were sentimental, and quite coincidentally, close to our situation... So, I'm naming that as our song, instead of Heaven [Ed: by Warrant, duh] because this has more to do with us. It works out well though, because he told me he requested that song, and G-N-R is his favorite group. I love Brian 4-eva!!!"
Brian was my 7th-8th grade boyfriend. He dumped me a few weeks after I wrote that when he found out I had cheated on him at summer camp with a fast boy from Long Island. Our romantic dance, however, was captured for all eternity on page 48 of our 8th grade yearbook. And BTW, I look hot in that picture. : )
Happy Nov. 1!!!
Diary entries were sporadic at first, (like, if I held hands in gym class), peaked between middle school and college (angst-ridden HOURS of John Hughes-worthy entertainment), and have been winding down ever since as my handwriting gets worse and fewer boys are thrown into my daily routine. At this point I basically just keep a journal around for posterity - kind of a tangible written record of how my dating life sucks in case I ever get lucky enough to forget. And of course where I print thoughts not relatable here for fear that my family will have me in a straightjacket before I can fully shut down the computer.
I'm sharing this Lori-ism because I was at a total loss for things to write about tonight, so I consulted my memoirs to see if November 1st had ever held any significance. I'm sad to report that over 21 years, it really didn't. I came across only one entry from 11/1, this gem from 1989 referring to our 8th grade Halloween dance (picture me with big bangs, braces, and a bad attitude, like, okay?):
"When Brian and I were dancing to the song 'Patience' by Guns N Roses, he sang some of it, I think, directed to me. He didn't sing all of it, just the parts that were sentimental, and quite coincidentally, close to our situation... So, I'm naming that as our song, instead of Heaven [Ed: by Warrant, duh] because this has more to do with us. It works out well though, because he told me he requested that song, and G-N-R is his favorite group. I love Brian 4-eva!!!"
Brian was my 7th-8th grade boyfriend. He dumped me a few weeks after I wrote that when he found out I had cheated on him at summer camp with a fast boy from Long Island. Our romantic dance, however, was captured for all eternity on page 48 of our 8th grade yearbook. And BTW, I look hot in that picture. : )
Happy Nov. 1!!!
posted by Lori @ 10:05 PM
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