High School Creative Writing Class....

The first half of my senior year I took a Creative Writing Class. It was one of my most memorable classes. One of the things we had to do was keep a journal. I had tried to keep a diary or journal in the past but was not very good at it. I had to do it for this class. Recently I was digging up old photos from back in the day and came across this journal. I had found some other old journals a while back and they were just awful....I'm tellin' ya. But this one...well it is a little better. I will say this - I remember being a little boy crazy but NOT like the journal tells it. Wow. That is mostly what I talked about. But there are a few other things I thought I would share. It is funny because it has been so long I forgot a lot of it but I really haven't changed much at all. And here I thought I had!? Well, enjoy a little "younger" version of Delilah.....

8/29/1990 Well, this is my first journal entry. How exciting. I'm not really sure what to write so - I'll just tell about my first day of being a senior. Well, I wasn't happy to get back. I dread the hard work. We realeased balloons this morning. It was nice but, I'd prefer not to litter. I saw a lot of my firends and I was surprised how different they looked. I had a lot of homework. My sister helped me carry my books. My schedule was missing my independent study. I came home and all heck broke loose. Me & my boyfriend got into a fight. I had to go to work, etc...

8/30/1990 Today went by too fast. I am in yearbook. Mrs. Blackburn is talking. I am the Editor. I am home now and (I'll leave his name out) is standing in my doorway. He bugs me. He has a VHS Frosh Jersey on & grey semi-tight sweats. It's gross. They are tight at the top & it squishes his cellulite to the top and it overflows. I hate to be mean but, he is so dorky at times. He's telling me a story about EHOVE. Sometimes he lies to "impress" me. I hope Mitch calls soon. He was at softball practice. Whe he calls late I always get a nervous feeling inside. I hate it. Sometimes I can't stand it so much that I call him. It's because of stress.


I'll type more tommorow.