These are the entries that didn’t seem to fit any other categories, but contain little nuggets of insanity.

April 26, 1995- Well, the stitches are good for one thing: Glory. Everybody loves a nice gory bunch of stitches.

It’s true. Fifth graders love major injuries. Of course, I was not one of the cool kids who broke her arm falling off a skateboard or got stitches from, I don’t know, machete juggling. No, my moment in the Munchausen spotlight came from keloid tumor removal where I had pierced my ears the year before. 

November 10, 1995

Orff Ensemble [the NON-mandatory choir I sang in] went to Dallas today. It was cool. I’ll give you the play by play.

4:30am Loaded bus, listened to music

4:50: Started going

5:00 : fell asleep

6:00: Woke up

7:00 : DONUTS!

8:00: music, Austin

9:00: used nasty bus bathroom

10:00: read, DFW Hyatt

11:00: practiced

11:30: performed

12:00: finished

12:30: ate lunch in basement. Hoagie, chips, coke.

You know you’ve reached a particular plane of spirituality when you devote a page of your scrapbook to God, and pose by scripture graffiti in your Samuel L. Jackson hat.

1:00: saw exhibits

2:00: left

3:00: fell asleep 3rd time

4:00: wake up

5:00: read

5:30: MCDONALDS! 9 chicken nuggets, soda, fries

6:00: left

8:00: sang. Become VERY sick of Love Shack

9:30: Home (Seele)

10:00: real home

Nick fell off the bus toilet. Our performance was pretty good. Got sugar drunk. Had to use the men’s restroom at the Hyatt.

 Judging from the account, DONUTS! at 7am were the highlight of the day. Rivaled only by MCDONALDS! 

I am still twitchy about the song “Love Shack.” Pre-teens will listen to songs like “Love Shack,” (and then later “Barbie Girl,” and “Stacy’s Mom”) until your ears bleed. It was preparing me for being mother to a toddler who is infatuated with Cats: The Musical. 

I also remember listening to “Gangster’s Paradise” on that trip and feeling particularly badass. I think this was when I learned that “roadtrip” is synonymous with “everything you aren’t allowed to do with your parents” including fattening foods, and apparently mainstream light rap.

My final somewhat random things are prompts from my American Girl journals. In 2nd and 3rd grade I used American Girl journals that were filled with helpful prompts for organizing memories. Actually, they were there for exactly the purpose they are now serving. To illicit ridiculous statements for my future self to enjoy.


From my 1992 American Girl Journal

More than anything I want to be able to tell Theodore I love him.

That dream is important to me because I love Theodore. And I am too shy to tell him.

This is how I plan to make it come true  by paying atenchen [sic] to him and smiling at him.

Nothing can stop me except if he gets a girlfriend or the end of second grade.

I was a mute with a deadline threatening my quest for true love. I don’t mention it here, but I also have a fish tail and lovely red hair. They based a movie on me.

Looking back, I have changed in this way I am not so shy.

I have not changed in my sweet personality and good taste. 

Still going strong on that one.

From my 1993 American Girl Journal

On the best day I can imagine, I would be kissed by Theodore in hot pink spandex shorts and a swing top. And he would take me to extra cheese pizza in winter at His Hill we would dance to a Hole [sic] New World and Kirsten and Amber [my dolls] would come to life. 

I’m assuming I’m the one wearing pink spandex in this fantasy. Also, a girl knows that boys come and go, but dolls who come to life will endure.

I think that now (this is/this is not) the best time to be an American girl because our new president (Bill Clinton) is very over charging taxes.

Ah, yes, my Fox News days…

More than anything I want to be an artist and a model

That dream is important to me because it is my ambition and how I intend to make a living

This is how I plan to make it come true take art lessons for an artist and for modeling just hope my natural good looks shine through. 

Nothing can stop me except hand disease, pimples, warts, broken hands, and bad hair

I think I’ll succeed because I’m pretty (not meaning to brag) I’m a fairly good artist and I’ll do everything I can to.