retro blogging

What is "retro-blogging?" It's someone who’s brave (or crazy) enough to comb through their old diaries and display them on the Internet. I dare you to try it! My diaries came from Waldenbooks at the Falls. They're palm-sized and printed with flowers (not unlike Victorian wallpaper). Inside are unlined pages of my crablike handwriting…not to mention, plenty of spelling errors.

Check out this entry, which describes the Tale of Two Cities party in 8th grade.

For some reason, I was always writing about food. Or the temperature ("Today was awesome! It went down into the 60s!") Not to mention, the usual teen angst ("Mom is always mad at me for the most pathetic reasons. She is always complaining how tired she is.")

I will spare you the rest….

As a kid, I used to beg my teachers to read my photocopied stories (usually about dragons and elves) and give "feedback." If somebody took the time, it made my day:

Then I stumbled across this entry. In high school, we attended "chapel" on Monday mornings. This time, we had a guest speaker, a writer from the Ukraine. I almost fell out of the bleachers, I was so thrilled. And as an added bonus: the guy was movie star handsome, as you can tell by our "student questions..."

Q: "Do you sing?" A: “Only when I’m drunk. And since I don't drunk anymore I don't sing anymore."

Q: "What do you think of American food?" A: "I've had Chinese, Mexican and Italian. What's American food? I haven't had any."

Q: "Are you married?" A: "Yes."

Q: "What do you think of American women?" A: (silence) "I bow my head to Ukrainian women because they work so hard."

Q: "Have you ever met Gorbachev?" A: "I haven't wanted to."

Q: "What do the authorities think of your work?" A: "They don't understand it so I don't get caught."

Our "writer of sad times in Russia" wrote his name on a slip of crumpled notebook paper, which I pasted into the diary. I still can't read what he wrote.

PS: I have written five new chapters for my editor. Of course, my computer decided that this was a good time to die. So I ordered a new Mac in the mail---my first since my Apple II c days in 6th grade.

For more 80s teen angst, read the retro blog of YA author, Megan McCafferty on her website.