and now, the continuation of the saga of Little C, the diary of an eleven year old malcontent….

Thurs. Aug 4, 1982
Dear Diary,
I just got home from seeing Annie. Great movie! I decided what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be either an actor or a dancer. I probably won’t be though. I didn’t have to go to bible school today. No offense god, but bible school is boring.

(I believe, that this diary entry is the best thing I have written to date. I want to comment on it’s greatness, but I end up just retyping the actual entry….IT’S THAT GOOD.)

Friday, Aug 5, 1982
Today we went to a spanish bible school in Chicago. It was really fun. Next year I’m going to have 2 spanish girls stay over for 2 weeks!

(spanish girls…..I just love those spanish girls)

Sat Aug. 6, 1982
Dear Diary,
Today I went to my father’s house. Nothing to do. I still haven’t found any friends yet. And I didn’t go to the dance contest because of my father’s (illegible handwriting that, try as I may, I cannot decypher).

(And still, twenty years later, boring and friendless….although, today, I *would* go to the dance contest, and nothing, I mean nothing would stop me.)

Mon. Nov. 7, 1983
Dear Diary,
Today was awful. I hate school, but does anyone care? Nooooooo!!!!!! I had to put my hair up in a pony tail, and all day I heard, “nice hair”, or “Hi Genie”. I hate everyone, and I doubt Pat will get the job at United so Hollie can’t move into her own house, and she can’t go to Thomas. Bummer!!!!!!

(Why I *had* to put my hair up in a ponytail is a mystery to me. But yes, I do recall hating everyone. Pat was my best friend’s mom. Hollie was my best friend and they lived with her two Aunt’s who did a lot of drugs and were really mean to the both of us. Thomas was the middle school that Hollie and I (and Mr. X) went to)

……and again, I tire of transcribing. I just got home from my last day working in the student clinic giving old, cranky, cheap people massages. It’s really funny to have a eighty year old woman hand me a two dollar tip, saying “there you go dear” while patting my hand. On the good days, it makes me laugh to myself. On the bad days, it makes me want to kick the walkers out from under people and say, “bitch, don’t you know who I am”. Fortunately, most of the days have been good, and on the bad, I have been able to practice restraint.