If you want to read the first installment of this series, click here for some really embarrassing attempts at poetry and proof that I have always lacked stick-to-it-tive-ness. So let’s continue on, shall we? We were in 1979 if I recall correctly, specifically December 26th.
A QUIZ FOR MY FUTURE SELF
After providing a rundown of my Christmas haul, I decide to leave a quiz for my future self asking such ridiculous and non-historically interesting questions as “Do you still remember the name of your the kids in your class in 7B- 1979-80?” and “Do you still have the stereo?” (which I received from “Santa” on the previous day). Not being one to wait, I fill out the quiz just a mere 6 months later when I’m older and wiser (12). Here are some answers to the questions from then and now (when I really should have filled out the quiz). My 12-year-old answers are in bold and my 42-year old answers are in italics.
Age: 12 (42)
What do you want to be when you grow up or what you are? nurse (stay-at-home mom and lazy housekeeper)
Daydreams: everything (me doing something great, school) (Escaping to Hawaii for a 10-day vacation without the Little One and possibly without Mr. Jenners, Edward Cullen, getting a book deal based on my witty and amazing blog writing)
Do you still have the stereo? Yes (No. Honey, I hate to tell you that your stereo went by the wayside a loooooooooooooong time ago. We now have amazing things like digital music and iPods. The stereo that you were so proud of played records (now called “vinyl”) and had a cassette player. Oh, how the world has changed. This is why you WAIT to fill out these little quizzes, my dear.)
Do you still remember the names of the kids in your class in 7B 1979-80? Yes (and I proceed to name them. I will spare you the names as no one I went to 7th grade with turned out to be famous.) (Hell no! If you hadn’t so thoughtfully listed them, they would be long-lost.)
IN WHICH I HAVE DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR
December 27, 1979
Maybe if New Jersey gets invaded they will print my diary like Anne Frank. If they (they is people who discover this book) I will be happy. To the people who find this diary years from now.
Hi. My name is Jennifer _____. I live in 1979 and it will be 1980 in…hmmmmm..let’s see. 4 more days! I am living when 50 (or 52) hostages (American) are being held hostage by Iranians. Well, bye for now.
First of all, you have to love how specific I am. Not if the United States gets invaded … just New Jersey. Like the rest of the states would be OK and continue on while New Jersey is occupied by the British or the Spanish.
Second, what hubris for me to liken myself to Anne Frank!!! Yes, 7th Grade Self, you are just like Anne Frank, living in extraordinary circumstances in your middle-class suburban house. (<—-sarcasm) Third, I take it upon myself to speak to the future and provide scattershot and inaccurate information. (There were 53 hostages by the way). No details provided. Just a cryptic statement about hostages and zero follow-up or context provided. Frankly, I’m impressed I was even aware that the hostage situation was going on.
A PEP TALK FOR MY FUTURE SELF
If you are an old day when you read this, I tell you to get up and live! Do things! Remember “Valentine” with Pete and Grace? Live! Don’t sit around! Write, draw, ski, kiss, run, job, swim, travel, anything but LIVE a full life. You are not a windbag! Live! Don’t die unfamous! Meet people! Write down a note to someone old telling this to some other old person!
I’m not quite sure what set that off (I have no memory of this movie but I did find it on IMDB here. Not many details though). Seems like it made quite an impression on me as the entry was written in all caps and with huge letters. It cracks me up that I viewed life as wasted if I were to die “unfamous.” I suppose my 7th grade self would view my present-day self as ” a windbag” or “some other old person” so I’ll comfort my past self with this:
Things are going OK. I have a Little One who keeps me young. I will keep your words of advice in mind as I continue to decay. However, skiing may not be the best option for the elderly … their bones are fragile. Just saying.
HOW HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF
December 28, 1979
My hair (I got it cut yesterday) does not look good at all. Maybe because of my glasses. Oh well. I hope when I get older that I can be free to do things. (I know I will NEVER have pork chops.)
I guess I’ve been getting bad haircuts my entire life as I’m still bitching and moaning and writing about them years later. And I have lived up to my promise to myself: I have never had pork chops as an adult.
POP CULTURE TIME MACHINE
Here are a few of the shows I was watching and music I was listening to during this time according to my diary.
Neil Diamond (“I Am” touches me, I wrote.)
“The Boy Who Drank Too Much” with Scott Baio and Lance Kerwin
Wings (Paul’s post-Beatles band … I was “into” Paul)
“Prisoner: Women in Cell Block H” (“It stinks” I wrote.)
Tune in next time when I discover Jesus and masturbation, become convinced I am going to hell, and hatch a plan to save myself.