Sweet Like Honey

After a long summer of fighting, Navid and I decided to call it quits due to the fact that I was off to a new school in the Fall.


It didn't take me long to latch onto the first upperclassman I saw (queue Taylor Swifts "Fifteen" here) in the lunch room. Or rather, perhaps he latched onto me. My new Walsh friends Rachel and Bean would need to confirm this today, but it seemed as though almost out of nowhere, Jon started inexplicably bringing me small honey packets. 


Because I was so sweet.


Gag me. 


I also learned that he stole the honey packets, but I overlooked his klepto tendencies and kindly purchased a few sugar packs to give right back to that little gumdrop!

After that romantic viewing of Pearl Harbor, we started going out. Then, as in all doomed relationships, the honey stopped flowing and instead I got notes like this:

Which leads to diary entries like this:

I know what you're thinking. "Man, Kelsey, that's harsh," and also, "Why did you think he was depressed? He seems like a perfectly good note writer and kisser according to everything I've heard." 


Here's why I thought that:

(Oh good. There's more.)

Now, I know I have no room to talk, since I have some poetry and songs of my own that could really rival what he had going on here. But it was really dragging on the excitement of the whole dating-an-older-man thing. 

Don't worry, he made it through the break up okay. Here we are all gussied up at Homecoming:

In hindsight: wrong hair, wrong dress, wrong date.

Sheets to the Streets

Well, despite the extensive sex ed we had during my 8th grade year, I still wasn't prepared for when one of my male friends took the plunge and gave up his V-card to a morally flexible 16-year-old. 


I'm going to skip the details that I was kind enough to include in my journal, since I'm trying to avoid being sued over this thing. However, I will share what I thought my friend's inevitable future was since he had intercourse at a young age. 

Wow. This would make for an awesome "Just Say No" campaign - for both drugs and sex. I mean, you do it once and the next thing you know you're addicted to coke and selling off your hundreds of babies for drugs.


Bleak.


For those who are wondering, the last I checked - my early blooming buddy is successfully working as a mechanical engineer and in a relationship that does not include domestic violence or weed addiction. 

Life in Modern Times (or 2001)

Whenever I started a new diary, I would always act like I was growing up somehow - which meant that I had to pretend I actually cared about things other than b-o-y-z. Sadly for my life, I never stuck to it. Happily for you, I never stuck to it.


If you've missed out on the joys of my 5th-8th grade years, or are just super confused by all of the name drops, here's a lovely little recap for you of where I was at the end of the 8th grade:

A few comments, if I may..

• Yes, you are awkward, and you'll likely never change. Better get the awkward turtle move down early.
• Um.. all you do is talk about yourself. And, I don't know if you noticed, but you still didn't talk about your "spirituality."
• Apparently I thought my parents were kids in the 1860's. I mean, how could they relate when my issues were so much bigger than theirs. Come on, slavery? I've got a bus to catch! Presidential assassination? Matt dumped Rachel! 
• I'm convinced that the overwhelming (or so I thought) pressure to exercise, exercise, exercise is the reason I never made it big in sports. Not to worry though, the bowling team suited me just fine.
• 13 year old me would probably be bummed to know that her future self would consider having 11 people in my "close circle" quite the treat. At least I knew that I wasn't a loser and recognized that people can just be ridiculous in their adolescent years. (Not me, of course, though.. I clearly thought I was perfect.)
• Yes, I know now that it's vice versa.
• I couldn't count!! It was only 5 pages. Silly Kelsey, maybe you should write about your capacity for mathematics in your next entry. I'm sure it's going to be packed with riveting information that has nothing to do with boys.

My next entry? "Well, today was six months for me and Navid..."

Oh well, old habits die hard I guess.