I came across a written note I had put in my piggy bank (back then, I used an old plastic ice cream container). On one side is a balance sheet, showing deposits and withdrawals for a period of several days, 12/28/95 to 1/2/96. I was eleven.
On the other side…horror.
Like many children, I liked to place warning signs on things I owned. I don’t know why. It’s not like I lived in a house full of children. I only have one brother and to my knowledge, he was never the sneaky sort to go rummaging through my things (at least, I don’t THINK he was). So I have no idea why I wrote all this dumbass stuff.
Below is evidence that supports why I had no friends at that age. I have purposely kept all my atrocious misspellings as to lend to the genuine ~feel~ of the document, and by feelings, I mean pure embarrassment on my part. My present-day comments are in bold.
Personal - for Jennifer and whoever-she-wants-to-see-this eyes only!
No Peeking! This is none of your business, exept my parents, my brother, and me, of course! (GOD, WHY WAS I SUCH AN INSUFFERABLE GOODY-GOODY? Oldest child syndrome, for real y’all).
CAUTION – You can be persecuted for this! I think Little Lame Jenny did not know the difference between “persecution” and “prosecution.”
Mess with Jennifer, mess with fire. Yeah, I’m sure that’s what all the girls in the gym locker room were thinking when they bullied you every day for three months.
I can have lawyers – I’m a writer, actress, athlete, animal activist, and vet + teacher. I can has lawyers? I don’t know why I felt the need to list all these fake identities. Clearly I was practicing on becoming a celebrity.
Caution – Don’t mess with future vetrenarian or teacher. Little Lame Jenny never knew she was going into engineering because it takes too long to become a vet, and the teaching profession is underpaid.
I have a lawyer. Of course I didn’t.
I am an actress. I based this off the one school play I did at 10, when I went off-script and hammed it up. Oh God, I’m hating my childhood self the more I type this.
I am a writer. This was actually true.
I am an athlete. So was this.
I am an animal activist. Not this.
I am a vetrenarian. Nor this. I wasn’t a Doogie Howser wunderkind.
I am a teacher. No.
I am a scientist. No.
I’m bad. Oh Mother of God.