June 23, 1992

Hello there! How are ya? Let's see what did I do today? Oh yes! In the morning I worked in my garden. Around 4:30 me and Maria went to Wawa and 7-11 to get 90210 pictures. Wawa had nothing and 7-11 didn't either. But I did get a 17 and YM magazine. At ice skating my skates were so dull that that I couldn't do anything. I kept falling and I hurt my hip and knee. Then at night we watched He's My Girl, a really funny movie.

If I had 3 wishes they would be to meet the BH, 90210 cast and maybe be on the show, to play a 1 on 1 game with Michael Jordan, and then to asked if I was allowed to have 5 more wishes.

Tomorrow we are going to {my aunt's} house to go swimming. I can't wait. See ya man!!
Bye,
Penni

I worked in my garden?!? What was I, a 75 year old woman on summer vacation or a 12 year old girl? Oh wait, the 90210 obsession reveals the 12 year old. I confessed in another entry around this time that it was my dream to meet Luke Perry. I had similar celebrity crushes over the years... Michael J. Fox, some of the New Kids on the Block, and I may have transferred my affections from Luke to Jason Priestly at some point. These were the kind of celebrity crushes that ached. The kind where I really felt like, if given the chance, me and these guys would totally get along. I still feel that way about me and Luke Wilson.

Monday, August 26, 1991

Dear Diary,

Tonight me and Vicky my "butt buddie" tired smoking. Well it wasn't her first time but it was mine. I kind of liked it and didn't at first but it's cool and a lot of people do it. But it kills you. I like Mike P. a little. He's cute. I'm gonna say something like he's cute [at school] so I can go out with him. I'm very eager. I need a boyfriend. Right now I hate to say it but I think I'm addicted to smoking. I'm going crazy. I need a smoke. Even though I don't inhale it I need it (sort of). My body says yes but my mind says no. One more week and school starts. Can't wait!
Love,
Penni

Ah yes. That first cigarette. Vicky was indeed what everyone called my "butt buddie," since we were attached at the hip that summer. She now lives in Philly with her girlfriend. I don't necessarily remember what it was like to smoke that August, but I do remember feeling scared afterwards. I was afraid that I would be addicted and unable to control my urges for nicotine and because of this new, insatiable need for smoking, my parents would find out. Pretty silly. We're told all these horrible things about smoking and drinking, just these ridiculous scare tactics. I was afraid of what my parents, teachers, coaches would think of me if they knew that I was the kind of person who would even consider smoking. "Oh, she's one of those kinds of girls," they'd say and I'd cringe at the mere thought of it. Obviously no 11 year old should be smoking on a regular basis, but the fear of what would happen to me made me feel super crazy.

Oh, and I was "very eager," and "needed a boyfriend?" Notice how that's just mentioned in passing, in between my thoughts about the cigarettes. Why were boys always in the back of my mind? I had other things I was thinking about, but I guess the culture of my friends made me feel like I should have a boy I was obsessing over at all times. Judging from some of Kristen's entries, many of us felt that way...

Saturday, May 4, 1990

Dear Diary,

Tonight Chris said Joe really likes me. Should I go out with him again? After all he's been such a jerk to me. Maybe I just will go out with him again. What the hell? We were put here to take chances. If I do go out with him again what will happen? Will he break my heart a second time? I hope not.
Anyway, Casey is going out with Frank. Daria is such a dog or you could refrase that as a female dog (b---h). She told Brian that I got my period. Shouldn't I be mad at her? She uses people. She's ugly and has a really bad attitude problem.
See ya later.
Love,
Penni

Wiser, more mature, and menstruating, at 10, I offered myself comforting old wisdoms about chance-taking and "just going for it." I think I felt older than my friends when I got my period, like I had naturally passed them on some growing up track. Oooops, sorry girls! It's not my fault, it just happened!
This didn't mean, however, that I wanted the boys to know! So when Daria dared to tell Brian-- well, how could she? It was supposed to be a secret among girls. The boys weren't mature enough to understand what it was all about, what I was going through. No offense, but at 14 Dave was still freaking about kissing a girl, and at 10, I was confronted with the ability to make babies. Maybe this was my singular experience, but I felt like getting my period in 5th grade forced me to grow up real quick. What were boys doing in 5th grade? Playing kickball and eating their boogers (and some reading Tolstoy, right Dave?). I was playing kickball too, but I had to worry about my "hygeine products" malfunctioning.
It's a lot to take, that's all I'm saying.

Saturday, August 6, 1994

Dear journal,

I've got a problem. About what? Girls. No! Wait! Don't stop reading! I'm 14, and I've never kissed a girl. Is that pathetic? I don't know. I'd rather be friends with girls rather than "making out" with them. Everything just seems stupid.
Another problem. Summer's almost over. Well, not really. But it sure feels that way. I've tried to read A Tale Of Two Cities so I'm not completely lost in History, but it's BORING!!!

Is it pathetic? No, Dave, the fact that it would be two and a half more years is pathetic. But I digress.
It's pretty funny that I was simultaneously uninterested in kissing anyone and reading Dickens. I swear, I was 80 when I was 14.

January 27, 1989

Dear Diary,

Today was T.'s birthday. At the beginning of her party we played spin the bottle. I had to kiss Ryan, and he had to kiss me. Pam, the fucking stuck up asshole acted like Miss Mature. She is really asking for it! She thinks she is cool for making sex with Perry and lots of other boys. There was lots of kids from school. There was Ryan, Mary, Amy, Robyn, Mike, Amber, Linda, Shane and others. T. and R. went in a room downstairs and turned off the light and god knows what they did! They probably made sex!!! There were slow dances too. Practicaly all of the girls DID NOT have anyone to dance with.
In school my X-boyfriend, Kevin, kissed me. David B. came up to me and said, "Did he have soft lips? Where is he going to kiss you next?" He was pissing me off a lot. David B. also came to me and said, "Frankie wants to hump you." I said, "You're gross." He said, "It's true, go ask him."
Love,
Penny
ps. does Frankie LIKE me?


This must have been one of my first boy-girl parties. I was still 8 years old, I didn't turn 9 for two more months. What was I doing? I think I was allowed to go because T. is my cousin-- I'm sure my parents felt more comfortable letting me go to a family member's house for whatever party. I have vague recollections of the basement where this party was, with its blue walls and the flimsy, plywood-like doors between rooms. T. and her friends were all in 5th grade, so going to this party was probably a big deal for me. I can assure you no one was "making sex" as I put it, but probably just giving each other pecks on the mouth.

Going through my diary from this time, I'm surprised to see how much of it involves talk about "this boyfriend" or "that boyfriend." I think I was writing in my diary what I thought a girl SHOULD be writing in her diary. Crap about boys. I was never swoony-- but in the writing, I look boy crazy. I'll have to whip out a gem from 1996 or 1998 to show you how that shit didn't ever change. It's embarrassing, but the formative years weren't pretty, right?

March 11, 1988

Dear Diary,

My boyfriend moved. In school we learned [how to write in cursive] H, K, M, N, I, J, E, C. That's all there is to say bye-bye.
Penny

This is the first entry that I ever wrote in any diary or journal. It was the day after my 8th birthday, and as you can see I was already churning out masterful prose. It's also before I started spelling my name, PennI. I was still going with the tradtional PennY. I must have been pretty torn up about that "boyfriend" moving away. I have no idea who that could have been. Really though, what's more exciting to an 8 year old than finally learning how to write in cursive? That was clearly my main interest at the time.


March 13, 1988

age 8
I wrote Michel J. Fox a fan letter. We moved to Hamelton Square.

This is my second journal entry ever. Later that summer, at camp, this little fan letter to Mr. Fox would yield a SIGNED letter from the man himself and a hott postcard-sized photograph. Well, it was a copy of his signature anyway. We also moved to Hamilton that year, just one town over from Mercerville, to the house where we still live. I must have had some really strong feelings about it all. I sound really torn up.

May 12, 1993
I asked her on the last dance: "Stairway to Heaven." She put her arms around my neck, and we swayed. (It's how you "dance" at dances. You sway back and forth like you've got a major wedgie, and then you get seasick.) She moved closer and closer (I think it was because she kept accidentally moving back, not because she likes me). Then, it happened. She said it. "Uh...you don't have to answer this...it's, ah, kinda weird. My, ah, friends have said you liked me...Do you?" My stomach did a backflip, and my mind was racing. What should I say? No? Nah, I don't wanna lie. Don't answer? No, I'd look like a jerk. I looked at her and nodded my head like a fool. She simply said, "Oh," and kept on danc--uh, swaying. If only I could remember the expression on her face at that moment. I think it was the inevitable "Yup, I thought so" look, but I'm not sure. I hope it was the "good, 'cause I like you too," look, though. After that dance she said "Bye Dave," and patted me on the shoulder and walked away. I couldn't explain the feeling I felt right then. It was like I was happy, sad and nauseous. I knew something, though. That question meant something.
Before I left, I talked to Mike and stuff. While he talked, I wasn't listening. I was watching her. She was talking to her friends. They were probably laughing. With that thought, my heart sank into my Nikes. I left with a really weird feeling. A feeling, though, that said, "Hey, maybe she likes me?" Wouldn't bet on it.

I left out some names here, because some of these people are still around and I don't want to embarass them even more. Though the girl in this entry was my fixation for a long, long time, I don't remember this incident at all. I also don't remember writing "my heart sank into my Nikes." What a little ass I was.
As another post says on this site, this is only the tip of the iceberg. I've realized that much of this journal ("diaries" are for girls!) was devoted to dances, being the hellholes of stress that they were.

Dave here. I was immediately thrown by reading Kristen's entry (below), because she was clearly much more media-savvy than I was at 14. While she was apparently listening to Lou Reed, I was spinning Billy Joel's River of Dreams album and loving it.

April 10, 1994

[Entry about a stressful date experience that close friends will recognize as "The Ace Ventura incident."]

P.P.S. Kurt Cobain died Friday. It was so strange. A month ago, he was in a coma from drugs, and there were rumors that he was dead. Everyone was relieved when he recovered. But he shot himself just a couple days ago.

I remember being confused at the time about what the big deal was. It was only right after he died that I bought Nirvana Unplugged In New York, stole my sister's copy of Nevermind, and got really god damn sad.