Bomb shelter

Handwritten page of a diary dated May 4, 1960

proud to be the only one in the neighborhood with a bomb shelter, and he wants to document it. He’s up on the roof of the garage and wants us to keep smiling, but I’m looking down on the ground. I’ve said to him a few times if the Russians bomb us, we might as well just go out on the patio and watch the pretty fireworks and not prolong the agony for the few days it would take the radiation to seep through that metal door on our shelter.
I was looking down and thinking how stupid this was, when all of a sudden I got an idea. If I can get myself a key to this bomb shelter, it might just be the perfect place for Donald and me to go for a makeout session!!!! Much better than trying to sneak him into my bedroom window (he keeps bringing up that idea and I say it’s too risky).
Dear Russians, I think you have solved my problem. Thanks for threatening to bomb us!!!


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Published in: on June 29, 2011 at 12:20 pm  Leave a Comment  

Neil Young vs. Captain and Tennille

Handwritten page of a diary dated October 1, 1975

your birthday isn’t for another month, so you’ll have plenty of time to practice pretending you like it” and I said “They don’t make enough ‘pretend juice’ in this world for me to drink so I could pretend I like a sweater she made from instructions she got out of a magazine 10 years ago” and she said “Well she hasn’t started making it yet. Do you want me to suggest some colors? Maybe the colors are a little too … sixties. Maybe it could be red white and blue for the upcoming bicentennial” and naturally I was dumfounded. Brett walked in and I said “Brett help me. Mom wants to know if I want this sweater made in red white and blue” but all he said was “Is that the girl from Captain and Tennille?” And then Mom said “Oh I love that album Brett. Will you play it on our downstairs hi-fi, so I can hear it again?”
To counteract the effects of their dopey sock hop in the living room, I had to go to the garage and listen to side two of Harvest by Neil Young.


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Published in: on June 27, 2011 at 6:29 pm  Comments (1)  

Monkey on the loose

Handwritten page of a diary dated July 12, 1993

… staying with Great-grandma for the whole entire summer sounded great because she has a pool at her house … but you can’t swim all the time. Luckily she bought me a new book. At first I thought it was dumb, because it’s called ‘How do you Lose Those Ninth-Grade Blues?’ And I was happy to leave the ninth grade behind just a month ago! But it’s an OK book. I guess.
And she showed me some cool old pictures in a big old book with a padded velvet cover. I turned one page and I said, “That’s weird” and she said “What’s so weird? My hair is done, my shoes match my purse and I have on a pretty modern dress.”
Wow, she’s looking at her outfit and I’m looking at a monkey walking around loose. Not only that, but the monkey has a double stomach with some kind of extra tail growing out of it!!!!!!


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Published in: on June 21, 2011 at 7:36 pm  Leave a Comment  

Welcome to a new plaid world

Handwritten page of a diary dated October 15, 1994

so he had to run out for some garlic. Finally. A chance to do the spying I need to do.
It’s our second date and he wore another pastel plaid shirt. I have to see if it’s just a coincidence.
Help. No. His closet is full of them. Long-sleeved. Short-sleeved. No t-shirts. No white shirts. They’re all plaid. And no red or black. It’s all MADRAS PLAID.
He’s a great guy. But come on. We may be looking at a game-changer here in this closet.


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Published in: on June 17, 2011 at 12:45 pm  Comments (2)  

the baby the baby the baby

Handwritten page of a diary dated May 2, 2002

and sure, the new niece is cute, but everyone is just staring at her ALL the time. I started wondering what Justin was doing.

I found him in his room playing some video game. He kept crashing his car off the road, so I told him if he ever got his real-life driver’s license I was going to move to a different town. I asked him why he wasn’t out there at the party and he said “the baby the baby the baby.” I said “Yeah” and he said  “Hey everybody look how cute the baby is” and I laughed. I told him they used to do the same thing when he was a baby and he said “Really?” I said “Sure, I couldn’t get any attention around this place if I stood on my head and played the fiddle.”

Then he paused the computer and started listening to me talk. No matter what I said, he stared at me and nodded, even when I talked about how showers used to have a good hard spray and you could really get rid of a headache or work the kinks out of your back muscles but now we have these crappy low-flow shower heads that just trickle a drop of water on you about once a minute. So I just kept talking and talking. Even I run out of things to say eventually, so I started this game, asking him questions. Like “Which would you rather do: go to school wearing only your Rugrats underwear — OR — eat a pizza with dead worms on it?”


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Published in: on June 13, 2011 at 11:40 am  Comments (2)  

Without a trace

Handwritten page of a diary dated August 17, 2000

because if this was on TV, cops would surround the car to question me and they’d think I was lying when I told them I have no idea why.

We were just on a road trip with no particular destination.
Did you have an argument?
The worst argument we had was whether there was any good reason for Madonna to remake the song American Pie.
Did he mention having any problems?
No. Nothing serious enough to make him stop the car and start running across an open field. Fast. And not return for 15 minutes.

It’s so hot. My mom would say if we had an egg we could fry it on the pavement. I’ve opened the door and closed it three or four times. I’m not sure which way is hotter. Hey mom, if only we had a roast we could bake it in this car.

His cell phone was in his pocket and I forgot mine today. Of all days. He left the keys in the ignition, but what do I do? How long before I just start driving away?


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Published in: on June 9, 2011 at 12:37 pm  Comments (2)  

in the afternoon with Cecilia, up in my bed room

Handwritten page of a diary dated June 21, 1970

laying on the carpet. I’m sorry, I like to be mellow sometimes (I have Dylan albums) but come on. It was a party and we hadn’t all seen each other for a year.

So I was looking through Binzie’s record collection to find something to dance to. It was all Joni Mitchell and Judy Collins and James Taylor. I almost flipped by the “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” album, but then I remembered — Cecilia, you’re breaking my heart. You’re shaking my confidence daily.

I put that tune on the turntable and blasted the speakers and they all kind of came out of it. Pretty soon we were marching around the room, singing and I said, Hey man we could make more noise in the dining room with no carpet. So Foo and those guys moved the big table and the chairs out to the garage.

“Jubilation she loves me again I fall on thee floor and I’m laughing.”

I bet we played that song over and over at least 10 times before the old guy from next door came over and …


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Published in: on June 6, 2011 at 10:32 am  Comments (1)