Go Ask Alanis
Well I had a lot of fun doing last week's update and I must thank Craig for giving me the incentive. I liked the time constraint, too. It's like I'm some vaguely rebellious mixed-up kid who secretly likes having boundaries set for her. So I guess I'm just like every other blogger out there. Damn.
Anyway, I had so much fun, that I thought that I would try to update this blog every day this week. I know that I've already kinda missed Monday, but what the heck. I shall persevere.
Say, speaking of vaguely rebellious mixed-up kids, guess what I'm going to inflict on you this week? I wasn't always a blogger, you know. Once, when I was young and free and wild at heart, I kept a diary. They say that the diary can be a window into the soul.
Please.. Take a long, steaming gander at my soul, won't you?
December 24, 1982 (First entry - age: 12 - writing: thin, slanted toward the left)
tonight is Christmas eve. I got to open one present from my sister, that's the one I picked. It was this special book. I like it a lot. It's pretty and I can hardly wait 'till tomorrow!
Well, it's an inauspicious start to a diary, but it is factual and hints at the possibility of describing something at some point. And, unlike most of my writing now, it was succinct. But let's take a look at two days later, when I've gotten the hang of writing in it a bit...
December 26, 1982
today I tried out my alarm on my clock radio. I also tried my first taco. It was worse than I expected. I met some of my mom's friends. [At this point I put a little arrow pointing to the next page in case I forgot that books continue from one page to the next.]I like them alot. They make me feel comfortable not like some other people I know. They're the only people I like that I know. They're nice.
I'm not sure what I was expecting from tacos, but apparently they failed the test. Also, I think that "not like some other people I know" is a dig at my Mother, but I can't be sure. If I had to bet I'd say that was the case, as I was 12 at the time and starting to realize that I knew everything in the world and my mom knew precious little, especially about things that mattered.
You know, on my own it would be hard to remember a time when me and my family considered tacos exotic. If my diary did nothing more than to remind me of this, it has done its job.
Tomorrow's Exciting Episode: Friendship, Sex, and Violence!
Anyway, I had so much fun, that I thought that I would try to update this blog every day this week. I know that I've already kinda missed Monday, but what the heck. I shall persevere.
Say, speaking of vaguely rebellious mixed-up kids, guess what I'm going to inflict on you this week? I wasn't always a blogger, you know. Once, when I was young and free and wild at heart, I kept a diary. They say that the diary can be a window into the soul.
Please.. Take a long, steaming gander at my soul, won't you?
December 24, 1982 (First entry - age: 12 - writing: thin, slanted toward the left)
tonight is Christmas eve. I got to open one present from my sister, that's the one I picked. It was this special book. I like it a lot. It's pretty and I can hardly wait 'till tomorrow!
Well, it's an inauspicious start to a diary, but it is factual and hints at the possibility of describing something at some point. And, unlike most of my writing now, it was succinct. But let's take a look at two days later, when I've gotten the hang of writing in it a bit...
December 26, 1982
today I tried out my alarm on my clock radio. I also tried my first taco. It was worse than I expected. I met some of my mom's friends. [At this point I put a little arrow pointing to the next page in case I forgot that books continue from one page to the next.]I like them alot. They make me feel comfortable not like some other people I know. They're the only people I like that I know. They're nice.
I'm not sure what I was expecting from tacos, but apparently they failed the test. Also, I think that "not like some other people I know" is a dig at my Mother, but I can't be sure. If I had to bet I'd say that was the case, as I was 12 at the time and starting to realize that I knew everything in the world and my mom knew precious little, especially about things that mattered.
You know, on my own it would be hard to remember a time when me and my family considered tacos exotic. If my diary did nothing more than to remind me of this, it has done its job.
Tomorrow's Exciting Episode: Friendship, Sex, and Violence!
posted by Alanis at
8:05 AM
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