Public shame inspired by boob pencil.

Boob pencil (link over there on the right) sometimes transcribes pages of her 1985 diary and posts them on her blog. This struck me as funny and interesting, then I noticed that she had put up a photo of her diary, and I recognised it as being the same style Adrian Mole 1985 diary that I kept back in the day. Ha! Anyhow, I was looking for an old note book the other day and whilst rummaging through the box of old journals and pads found mine. I told Clare that we could swap a day, and she said, yeah, go on, 15th April. Now that I have read my entry for that day I see that not only is boob pencil funny and interesting, she also is very brave, as it takes some sass to expose the truth of one’s teen self. I have decided to transcribe exactly the words I wrote for that day, despite my desire to censor myself. So, here’s mine;

“I finally cried myself to sleep last night and woke up clutching Floppy and peering out of the puffiest eyes I’ve ever seen. It was about 10.30 a.m before Matthew arrived, and just as he got here mum had a go at dad about the way he treated me last night, it didn’t exactly help, it merely made him more resentful towards me. Me and Matthew went into town and I bought “Do what you do” by Jermaine Jackson cos the words remind me of me n’ Si and make me cry, oh wow, heavy meaningful lyrics eh? We came back here, went round to his aunts and then back here once more. In the evening I went down the pub to meet Debesh and RAB minus Joe turned up. I talked to Lisa and told her about Simon, had a quick chat with Duncan/Adam/Jim and then returned to my sulk about Simon. In the end I went and sat with Mark who listened to me winge on and on about Si and how much I cared about him. He kept telling me that I was really attractive thus returning a little of my dwindling self confidence to me. I could get off with him quite easily you know. Simon, please want me.”

Aaaaarrrrggggh! The shame.
Incidentally, Simon is now my husband, so it all worked out OK, phew eh?

10 thoughts on “Public shame inspired by boob pencil.”

  1. Haha, brilliant!And Simon is now your husband? Wow, that’s impressive.The thing that really strikes me is how similar your diary is to mine. Just goes to show, teenagers aren’t as unique as they think they are…One thing we don’t have in common though: I’m honestly not embarrassed or ashamed by the things my 15-yr-old self said or did. It doesn’t feel in the least bit brave to post those entries in the way that I do. After all, these are things I did 22 years go, when I was practically a different person. And there’s no shame in obsessing about boys – ALL teenage girls (or boys, depending on persuasion) do it. The only bits that make me wince are when I’m mean or catty about my friends. But then I reason, this is not me. This is another woman, from the past. I have changed a lot since then… and anyway, everybody is catty and mean in private. I just hope I’ve done enough to disguise the recipients’ identities, because they could still be hurt if they were to stumble across this stuff on my blog.

  2. Oh wow. It’s like another world isn’t it? I destroyed all my diaries at the end of each each. I’m kind of glad, I cannot revist the insanity of those years comfortably.

  3. This is very poignant since I too was 15 in 1985. Hello, fellow 1970 babes!I didn’t write as detailed a diary as you and BP, but reading your entry brings back such strong memories of teenage-hood – there were so many people involved, it was all about what he said to her and what she said about him and how I spoke on the phone last night to A, B, C, D, E and F! It makes me feel positively hermit-like now: I was just thinking this week how those days of one-hour-phone-calls are well and truly past. I hardly ever talk to anyone on the phone anymore. I miss it, a little. The Best Friends you have at 15, the Ones You Hate, the Boys You Are Crazy About. Can’t believe you married yours!!

  4. Pierre…yup, it is good isn’t it, took us a long while tho’, on and off.Clare, you put that all so brilliantly! When you say “But then I reason, this is not me. This is another woman, from the past. I have changed a lot since then… ” that’s exactly how I feel. I honestly could be reading about someone so entirely unconnected with the me that I am now. I think that’s what makes me shudder tho’, the fear that someone might mistake that me for this me.Simon is indeed now my husband, although our relationship has not been a constant since then we did eventually find our way together.The Lisa I mention is also still my best friend. Funnily enough I told her about this and read her your entry for the same day, she responded by saying that clearly you are a writer as well and that our two entries show that we were both writers then, in our own teen way.kellie, I have thought about destroying my diaries so many times, but i can’t bring myself to do it. my memory is so shit that it’s quite handy to be able to refer back. I kept a diary from about 15 – 31. Now I don’t at all, all my diary stuff is online.Tania, it was strange re-reading, and I was boy crazy. It’s amusing to see how I could yearn for someone I proclaimed my love for but at the same time casually think about snogging any number of other boys.salvadore vincent…I’m actually a bit older than Clare, and had already left school so my revision was no longer a problem!

  5. That’s spme entry! And it’s funny how we evolve and still the seeds of who we are can be found somewhere in our past…P.S. I just came across this post of yours (from December) and, YES! I do love Bukowski’s poetry! hehe It’s all over the place on my blog now!I’m going to link your blog!

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