Teenage years
MY HIGHSCHOOL JOURNAL part #1
Hi. So I'm here today because I'm sick and tired of keeping everything inside of me. Nobody really wants to know me enough. So I'm going to sit quietly on my favorite couch downstairs in our family room a.k.a the BASEMENT, and talk about myself for a few minutes. This is obviously for nobody, because I wouldn't really want to share anything with anyone. And besides, nobody cares; and I totally understand. People have busy and stressful lives. I do as well. Nobody has time to "understand" me as a person. So here I go phone notebook:
By justalilpeachy 5 years ago in Confessions
Growing up in the Twilight Era
Looking back, I'm surprised that the global phenomenon of Twilight initially passed me by. I actually had not heard of Twilight until 2008, when the film was just being released on DVD. Through classmates conversations, my knowledge of the story went as far as - a bland girl fancies a moody vampire, but gets caught in a love triangle with a muscle-head werewolf. That was it. I probably may not have even watched it, if not for my mother buying me a copy at our local Blockbusters' as a gift - anyone else remember Blockbusters? Good times. So with no knowledge or expectations, I decided to give this film a try.
By Ted Ryan5 years ago in Confessions
My First "Bestseller"
The idea struck me when my eighth-grade English teacher approached a student in the hallway, a girl much more loud, outspoken, "rebellious," and popular than shy, nerdy me, asking her, "Where is the stuff??" Although I knew he was referring to classwork, the exchange sounded much like an illicit drug deal. A story idea took seed in my young, fertile imagination.
By Julia Schulz5 years ago in Confessions
Define Functional
Chapter Two: Girls Girls Girls I’m not sure if I ever said it to her out loud but in my head, I called her Jewlz. Her name was Julie and we met during a freshman summer program at Marquette University. It was a program for students with high test scores but lower than expected grade point averages. I was again amongst a group with which I should fit. We all shared the same disease, we could but we didn’t. The program was our chance to prove ourselves and show we were capable of performing at a collegiate level. It was highly structured requiring us to take one 3 credit course and spend the rest of the day in orientation classes and mandatory study hours. I don’t remember exactly how many of us there were but we all stayed in the same dormitory with men and women on different floors. I landed on that campus, 800 miles away from home, after an eventful senior year during which I created my own half-day schedule by skipping half my classes every day. To make things fair I would alternate leaving or arriving after lunch during the week. I didn’t feel that bad about it because to make up for my freshman failure I had two periods of gym every day. I had a grade point average of 1.1 entering the year and really shouldn’t have been promoted to the twelfth grade. I remember a friend who resented my flippant attitude toward school calling me, the summer before the twelfth grade, to inform me that I had failed two classes and wouldn’t be a senior in the fall. Having grown in arrogance, due to the magic doors administrators would open to allow me to dodge consequences, I confidently replied “Well see”. And as I expected, we shared most of the same classes that next year, on the days I bothered to show up for them. When the year ended, I shouldn’t have graduated but to fit the pattern that had been established in my life my English teacher mercifully decided not to fail me stating that she didn’t want to “Hold me back” because “the world needed me”. No pressure right? But despite all the lessons I didn’t learn that year JROTC had put me in a position to go to college. A counselor that worked with our cadets was a Marquette Alumni and found this program for me. JROTC had also netted me a girlfriend and by the time I was leaving for college, we were still in the throes of passion following our mutually lost virginity. Before I left for school that summer, I bought a micro recorder to use during lectures but tested it out first recording her moans during one of our love-making sessions. I and that tape would make our way to a majority white Jesuit campus, with me nervous about leaving its star, nervous about the new world I was in, nervous about meeting the standards of college life, and unknowingly one floor beneath Jewlz.
By JdotFlan5 years ago in Confessions
Love, 16
Growing up sheltered makes life hard. You miss out on opportunities to grow and make mistakes that other kids have. Especially when you grew up like me. My parents were strict Mormons and raised me as such. I wasn't allowed to watch TV, I wasn't allowed a phone, I wasn't allowed to hang out with friends outside of school or church and I went to church two times a week. Add this to my crippling social anxiety and you get a recipe for disaster and a girl with barely any friends. And definitely a girl with little to no experience with boys. This is the story of one of my first real encounters with dating, love, embarrassment, and heartbreak.
By Alyssa Zeschke5 years ago in Confessions
Don't Die Over a Spilled Merlot
There was nothing celebratory about that New Year’s Eve. Nirvana was playing at the Cow Palace, but neither of us had gotten tickets. Me and Sal, Salvador Puggio, the Pug Cell, had finished off the the fifth of Peppermint Schnapps he’d stolen from his mom’s liquor cabinet and we were wandering around Golden Gate Park at 11:38 pm as 1992 died away. Drizzly piss rain soaked us through and a bitter wind blew off the Bay. There were plenty of teen parties going on all over the city, but me and Pug couldn’t crash any of them. When it came to teen parties and getting wasted we were the worst type of opportunists. Jackals, hyenas and coyotes would have been more welcome house guests. We were skate punks with a rep for trashing houses when we got too twisted.
By Steve B Howard5 years ago in Confessions
Disaster Diaries
I've never really been a rule follower. I haven't really ever found a need to be because just in general the benefits of not following the rules typically outweighed the cons of following the rules. Why would I make my life harder following rules when I could just ....not?
By Julia A Maddox5 years ago in Confessions
Thrift Store Buys That Helped Me Become My Best Bisexual Self
I miss Thrift Shopping. Not so much the dusty old smell or the throngs of people that would post-Covid give me a heart attack to be around but getting something cheap to cherish. I have always enjoyed the thrill of the hunt. Most times I would go in to a thrift store and not even have a specific item in mind. I just liked to peruse the aisles to see if anything fun would jump out at me. I have never been a very fashion-forward person, as you will very well see in these series of photos, but when I like something I certainly feel joy thinking back on it. Especially when I think of how an item made me feel.
By yanina maysonet5 years ago in Confessions
Open confessions of me
Open confessions of me. Today I’ve had a lot of time to do some thinking and a lot of major self reflection. I have truly come a very long way from where I was even last year this time. The year before that was even worse. A lot of people know me as being silly or some consider mean but nobody really knows the depths of me, the hate I used to have. I felt so trapped inside of myself I was stressed out I was very depressed to the point where I just had to have a drink wine, vodka, tequila, anything to numb and drown out what was going on around me, what I was dealing with the things I would think about. I had a lot of issues with self-confidence the way I dressed the things I ate the things I didn’t eat. I got to the point where I daily just thought of harming myself possibly committing suicide then everything can just go away I wouldn’t have to feel it I wouldn’t have to drink every night.
By R.S. Cole5 years ago in Confessions
