I can't wait to have a daughter who writes things like this...
"Feb 6, 1994- I know, I know. So I haven't been writing lately. I feel like I'm going to throw up. I am going to throw up. Mom didn't tell me that it was STUPID FAST SUNDAY! So now she won't let me have anything to eat. I going to die from starvation. Then MOM will be sorry. I feel like nobody cares about me anymore. I mean MOM said she would take me to get a pair of new Sunday shoes. She never did I mean I kept reminding her and every-time she had a stupid little exuse not to go with me. She hates me the most. Love, Carly"
"April 3, 1994- I'm dead. I think. I think my Egypt report is due on Wednesday but, I'm not sure. It might be due tommorow or Wednesday. I think it's due on the 6th, which is Wednesday, but Mr. J said to bring it in on Monday. Mom won't let me type any of my report today. Mom's such a jerk, idiot, pea brain, etc. I just hate her. I hate espiecally Meredith. NBy the way, today is Easter. I got a bat. Yippe. I mean even Hillary got better presents than me. Meredith got a vest at GAP. The most exspensive brand of all. Love, Carly the Mad."
"May 31, 1994- It's like 9:10 p.m. Mom knows I'm still up. She's reading a book to Meredith. Mom told me to go to bed. I said, "I'm going to bed when Meredith is." She could not think of anything to say. I was really trimphant."
Now, for the most intense entry of all...
"July 3, 94 Sunday- I hate mom. I wish she would die. I mean it. I don't care if she does. I wanted to wear a T-shirt I couldn't. Meredith could. Meredith gets to wear a t-shirt. First I said, "Meredith gets to wear a t-shirt" and mom said, "She asked dad." Then dad said that it wasn't a t-shirt and mom said, "yea, that's right." She's sooo mean."
I really don't remember hating my mother during 1994, but it seems to be a common theme among my journal entries. Apparently we went through a rough patch there for a while. I can only dream about the kinds of things my daughter will write about me!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
On this day in 1994...
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4 comments:
Dad bought the bat for you, not me, so you should hate him instead of me (he thought you would like it). Dad says he thinks the bat cost more than Meredith's vest. I don't remember you particularly hating me in 1994, but isn't that the year that you told me that the cyst on my nose made me look like a wicked witch (so I promptly had it removed)? Love, Mom
hahaha. those are hilarious. i lost my journal that has all the entries from when i was younger. i'm kinda mad about that.
Carly, these flashback entries are my favorite. I can't wait to open up your blog one day and read, "June 5, 1993: I had a sleepover with my cousin David last night. All he wanted to do was watch the stupid TV, so I read a book about a woman with green hair. It was not fun. I hope he gets cooler."
It seems like you had a lot of hate toward me as well.
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