February 14, 19XX,

Dear Diary,

Today I received NO valentines. This is excluding relatives.

February 15, 19XX,

Dear Diary,

I hope I get my hair cut soon. I want to get my ears pierced. I hope the group gets back together.

My love life is the PITS! I wish NAME GOES HERE would call me! He is so nice. I hope he's nice to me tomorrow. I also hope I get some mail.

(Note: some things never change.)

I owe Mom 10 bucks too. Tomorrow I shall wear my hair differently. I'll start an exercise program and diet too. Maybe tomorrow I'll be nice to everyone, then I'll be in a good mood!


I must say the line "I hope he's nice to me tomorrow" brings back so many good, bad and butt-ugly memories of my early teens that I may need to start drinking Fresca again. Did anyone else see where all of my impossible to-do lists started? And the fact that everything in the universe was going to happen on February 16? Talk about self-induced pressure.

The fact that the page for that particular day is one big empty is no surprise. I probably had to be hospitalized!

The intro on the first page of this unlocked treasure also bears this warning:

This diary is
so don't snoop!

Flipping through it, I have to admit that it doesn't even warrant a PG-13. ;)