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Pack Rat
Friday, June 16, 2006

I just spent the past few hours looking through my stuff from 7th grade and high school, stuff I’ve accumulated since I moved permanently to my grandparents’—test papers, notebooks, photographs, fiction exercises, poetry exercises (oh, I couldn’t believe it, either), journals, letters, drawings.

My journal from second year high school was especially interesting to me. Maybe it was because that was the year I actually wrote things in verse, or was the year I got the most number of people ticked off (I wasn’t that careful of what I said or did back then, which, come to think of it, is a strange thing to say at the present, but just take my word for it), or was, on the flipside, the year I started the few friendships that have actually continued to exist. Ominous, that notebook.

And the photographs. Oh, the photographs. Except for my Kinder 2 class pic, which is probably the most attractive I will ever, ever be on any visual medium (that tiny, innocent face!!! she actually had it!!! *gasp*), I wanted to barf over everything else. I was a lump of bleh. Bleh. Bleeeeeehhhhhhh. You know how some people get all wistful and eloquent when they see old photographs of themselves? That’ll never happen to me. You can't get all wistful and eloquent over something that just plain disgusts you.


posted by marguerite @ 11:33 PM

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Marguerite.
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