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I don't know why I save all of my old diaries. If I ever have ancestors, I certainly don't want them poking around in my belongings one day after I'm dead and finding stuff like this:

God, it seems like every time I pick this up to write, the song "We Are the World" comes on. Awesome!

or this…

"I know a place where we can dance the whole night away"…God, I love this song!

Then again, I guess I don't care if they find out I was a flaming dork. There's too much evidence out there to keep that fact a secret.

What I'd like to do is get a hold of the 15-year-old me and tell her a few things.

Well, I had planned on writing more, but I have to go eat something and curl my hair. I need something done with it! Anything!

God! Remember that phrase? "I have to go curl my hair"—flashback to that ¼" barrel curling iron heating up in the bathroom…

I hate to tell you this, but your hair is never going to get any better. You are not ever going to learn to style it. You don't have the patience or the motor skills. It will look more or less the same—with slight variations in length and bangs/no bangs—for the rest of your adult life. Stop worrying about it and please! stop curling it with that thin curling iron.

Carol Snyder (from the play) is really funny! But Rich Z. has got to go! No joke. What a fag.

Yes, it's true…he is a fag. I know because I dated him about 5 years later when we met again in college and on our second date he told me he's bisexual. Did I mention that he brought a friend along on our first date? And did I mention that there were several more dates after that, even after he told me he would prefer to date a boy, culminating in a Christmas gift of a pair of socks from Fashion Bug? There were several places where that train wreck could have been stopped, sister. Smarten up.

Bretta couldn't go see The Breakfast Club last night because she had a fight with her mom. I was gonna go this afternoon but Peggy [my sister] had to open up her big mouth to Mom and Dad that it was rated R. She also said that I had told her Vision Quest was rated PG-13, but it was really rated R. I don't see what the big deal is. I hear the word "fuck" every five minutes at school. Like it's gonna make a difference in the movie theatre.

1. Why did you tell mom what you were going to see? A simple "I'm going to the movies" would have sufficed.
2. Why did you give Peggy any information to use against you? And when she snitched, why didn't you pull out any of the ammunition you have on her? Stop being such a wimp!

*If there are any teenagers reading this—especially any former chickens—please disregard this advice. Listen to your parents. Mind them. Quietly.

Today was Varsity Pom Pom tryouts. I highly doubt I made it. The routine was so confusing. Oh well. It was to "Axel F." I like(d) that song.

OK, sister. You tried out for pom poms your freshman year. Didn't make it. Your sophomore year. Didn't make it. And now you're going for Varsity? Do you see a pattern here? CUT IT OUT. No one wants to see you grooving around the gym floor to the theme from Beverly Hills Cop. In fact, they don't want to see you grooving around the gym floor at all. Save face. Stop dancing in public.

Tonight's dress rehearsal was crowded! I hope the shows sell out! I can't go to school tomorrow! I'm too tired and too overloaded with homework. My mom said she'll go in to turn in my outline for me.

[The day before the Genesis concert] Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love Phil! Tomorrow! I would feel like goat feet if I didn't record this moment right now! Total anticipation. I've heard a lot about it, but I'll judge it when I see it! I'm going to come home and sleep tomorrow from periods 4 to 10. I'd just stay home after 4th, but Colleen would be mad if I missed study hall, so I'll come back for it. Yay.

Colleen still gets infuriated when she thinks about all the times I was missing from school because my mom and I had decided I was a little bit too tired to make it in and maybe I should stay home and sleep a little more until I felt all rested. "Your lazy, spoiled ass…" she grumbles. Hee hee.

Yesterday I was being a big bag-o-poop because I didn't feel good and Scott was like, "Amy! What's wrong?" or "You're not so chipper today. I'm the one that's supposed to be in a bad mood. I come in here and you cheer me up." I guess I was normal today because I was raising my hand and while Mr. Putnam was ignoring me I was chanting "B.O. Bob, sha na na na, sha-na-na-na-na….Hey, Mr. Putnam, Mr. Putnam! Mr. Numput!" Finally Scott goes, "Amy, will you shut up!" See? Back to normal.

Scott wasn't in History today. Boo hoo. But I saw him twice and he spoke with me both times. And I saw him before lunch…Hmmm….He was so nice on the day after vacation!! He kept asking me what I did and stuff and once B.O. Bob turned around and said to me, "Why don't you just shut up?" I laughed right in his face.

I would have hated having me in class. Chickens who just wouldn't shut up were one of my biggest pet peeves…and from the way both of those passages ended…I don't see much to like.

Course selection is this week. I hope next year is OK. I hope I get to college! Maybe Illinois State or Whitewater? Who knows. I have a lot of English classes. I definitely want to be a journalist or an English teacher. That's easy and fun.

Um, yeah. That's why you're 30 and unemployed.

I just saw Rocky IV for, don't gag, the 4th time. Too many. It was kinda gross.