Thursday, April 5, 2018

My Life in 1990 (Part 1)

And the diaries continue....



Life sucks. There is no doubt of that. I keep on crying but I don't know why. At school I'm fine but then I start bawling at home.

Mom is threatening to move now instead of the summer. She is always playing Nintendo, never playing with us. (1/3/90).

 Yeah. Maybe life sucked, because our mom was hogging the video games! I think she played a Jaws game a lot. And Tetris. Well, I know she was into Tetris at some point, but I don't remember if it was at this time.

I still haven't found out if I'm in the newspaper thing at school. (1/4/90) That was in regards to the school newspaper. And I DID get in. I'm not sure when I found out.

Last night I had a dream about God (The almighty one) and I worked for him. Then the devil started disguising himself as God and then I had to have special ways to find out if the messages were from God or not.  I'm glad I dreamed that because lately I've been having negative feelings about God and in the dream I saw him as a loving, forgiving and humorous friend.  (1/15/90).

These days the only God I believe in is the one on Twitter.

I kept on joking with Michael G. about killing the teachers. Perhaps Mr. Peterson overheard our plans because after class he asked the two of us if he was being too mean. Of course I told him no, but that is a lie, sort of. He is mean, and arrogant too. He has ideas about the literature and is closed-minded to students. (1/19/90).

I had a secret crush on Mr. Peterson, and at the same time, I despised him.

Melissa is in a bad mood today. She keeps on hinting that she doesn't want to be with me. (1/20/90). Did I take the hint? Did I give her space? Or were we stuck together for some reason?

The Stand is really sad. I'm glad I have books to read now. I think I'd be in total depression. Thank God for Stephen King. (1/20/90).  That's sweet. I'm actually reading a Stephen King book now. (Wolves of the Calla)

I want to call April today. I am so afraid that one day I'm going to call, and her parents are going to tell me she's dead. It's just like almost everyday I'm afraid I'll wake up to find Beau dead. He always looks dead. (1/20/90).  At some point, I stopped calling April, and we lost touch with each other. Last year, I Googled and learned she had died...many years ago.  I wish I had kept in touch with her.

It was the battle of the sexes with the rape assembly. Imara Jones has the whole female class against him now. One day I'll look back and not know what shit I was talking about. (1/22/90). I was absolutely right!  I have no idea who Imara Jones was and why a bunch of young women were mad at him.

I just Googled Imara Jones and there's a transgender woman-blogger-activist with that name. I'm wondering if she's the one who was at my school. And what was all the drama about?

I'm on a small dinky plane on the way to New York. I keep on well never mind. 

Melissa has a cold. Dad is talking to loud. 

The whole family is so damn excited about this stupid trip. Personally I feel like it's a one way ticket to hell. (1/25/90).

Hey, I think I was psychic here. Because guess what we were planning to do in New York. We were seeing a taping of The Cosby Show. Bill Cosby tickled my sister's foot...or something like that.  Maybe a part of me knew he was a predator-asshole.

No, probably not. I think what was really going on is, I was upset about having to move away from Atlanta.  Because of that, I don't think I was getting along with my family very well.

I am so mad at Mom, Dad, and Melissa. I want to be away from them. Maybe suicide will have to be an option. But I don't want to die. I just want to get away from them. Cabin fever maybe. I'm becoming quite a bitch. Not angel sweet anymore. This is what happens like the girl who shot her mother from North Springs.  (1/25/90)

I never came close to committing any violence. How do we divide the people who have these feelings from those who have these feelings and actually commit violent crimes?  How do we distinguish between those who'd kind of like to die and those who have actual plans to commit suicide?

The funny thing is, when I've thought back to that trip to NYC, I don't remember being angry at my family.  I was going to talk about what I DO remember but then I thought, I'll probably mention it in my diary.  Or maybe not.

So I'll just share one memory now.  Because of my dad's job, we had the opportunity to meet Phylicia Rashad. I think in her dressing room. We were supposed to eat with her. I think my mom had heard Indian food was going to be served, and she warned us against that cuisine. She thought we (Or just me?) wouldn't like it because it's too meat-centered. Or something like that. Now I was a VERY picky eater. So I can't blame my mom for being concerned. But later I would think it's funny, because Indian food is one of the most vegetarian-friendly cuisines. I actually was NOT a vegetarian back then, but I was very picky about meat.

Maybe I've been reading too many Stephen King books. Perhaps? Tomorrow I'll read this and say "Oh no. Did I say all this? What a bad little girl I was". I am glad for now that I am writing this. I never expressed my anger about the ouija board. It was just days later. Oh by the way, the board never worked, but that's okay.  Everybody is happy now. I am just so mad and then I feel guilty because I'm feeling sorry for myself for something so trivial compared to other world problems. I'm not the first kid to move. I'm not the first kid who is majorly alienated from her family. But those kids weren't me. Oh shit. I still want to be good. I still want to be on God's side. I want to love and be loved. I am sorry for how I feel.  (1/25/90).

I think maybe I need to credit Stephen King then for helping me grow into a person I actually like.  I like this Dina better than the one before. This one is angry and honest.  The other one? Way too...self-righteous. Anyone reading this might not have felt that, because there is so much from the diaries that I didn't quote. Probably because I felt it was nauseating.  If you DID read stuff from the earlier diaries and thought, Shit, that girl is so self-righteous; then I'll just say, it's much worse than you know.

Becky kept on wanting to borrow my red lipstick. (2/5/90). Gross. Did I ever let her?

Well, I was much less germaphobic back then. Sometimes I miss those days. Like when we'd go to Grandma Bea's house, and we'd all be sticking our hands in the communal candy bowl.

It's funny, at the beginning of the quarter, Mrs. Phillips said we'd all be like a family. It made me sad because I knew I'd be the outsider and when the rest of your peers are family, it makes it even worse.

I was wrong, though. The class has become like family. (2/7/90).

And I don't remember any of this.

Some people block out bad memories.

It really seems like I blocked out a lot of good memories.

I've been thinking about The Exorcist.  It was forgivable for my dad to tell me to watch it. He's not your "Dr. Spock" father and probably was unaware that it wasn't right to let your kid watch that shit. 

But when I sat in the kitchen screaming, holding my ears, and closing my eyes, begging them to turn it off. They didn't, and they should have. It was plain selfishness. 

Didn't they understand that to me it was real and not a movie?

I still have nightmares about it. I dream that the T.V is on and either it won't turn off or Dad is making me watch it.  A few nights ago, I dreamed it was happening in my room and I was begging the little girl to get out before it got worse.

I actually had one of these dreams a few weeks ago! They're still happening.

Also, when Tim and I watch TV together, he usually has the remote next to him. He's usually the one who pauses, plays, etc. Although now he usually tries to rely on Alexa.

BUT when we watched The Exorcist TV show, I had to have the remote next to me. I needed to have that power to turn it off.  I think one of the reasons is I worried Jack would come down during a scary scene. And I had this irrational idea I'd do to him what my father did to me. Except Jack is 16 not 7!! 

I read Born on the 4th of July. I was highly disturbing and not enjoyable, but important. (3/12/90)

I keep dreaming about Vietnam. They're bad dreams, but I barely remember it. I guess I'm obsessed with it now. Hopefully for not long.  (3/12/90).  I do remember my obsession with Born on the 4th of July.  I don't think it lasted very long, though.

I just thought of something that makes me want to cry so hard. Larry is in my English class and I don't sit by him. I don't even talk to him. How could this happen? Maybe mom's right and I'm trying to break ties with people since I'm moving. (3/12/90)

Last night I dreamed about The Exorcist again. First there was a commercial for part 3. And then the movie came on. I was so scared and wanted to turn off the TV but I couldn't because I didn't want to go near it. It was the scene where the girl first talks in that crazy voice. It's funny. I wonder if that movie will haunt me for life. (3/13/90)

It is the first day of spring but it is so cold today. I read an article in the newspaper about celebrities and earth day and environmental issues. It said that the environment problem is a fad and will be out of "style" one day just as starving Africans and Farm Aid.

I don't think that people become involved in the environment to be "in"I think god puts people involved in charities where he thinks they need them and where they can help. (3/20/90).

Though I don't believe in God anymore, I do believe in fate. So my feelings now are similar to my feelings then.

One thing I remember and saw in my diary is that I pulled so many people along on my CF ride. I didn't include a lot of that when quoting stuff. But yeah.... I inspired classmates to write school reports on CF. I had friends helping with my CF bake sales and some of them would come with me to the CF Foundation office to help.  Our family friend Greg ended up becoming very involved with the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation.

I think what happens is some of us get this huge emotional calling from the universe. We become passionate about a cause, and then it's like a domino effect. Other people get involved as well. They might not have equal passion, but their contribution is still very important.

I think I am in love with Tim B. This is quite a problem. I don't want to be obsessed with anyone and Jennifer likes him.  (4/2/90).

This was pretty shameful. Jennifer had a huge crush on Tim B.

Wait. I should probably stop to clarify something.

I had two Jennifer friends...which isn't surprising. Jennifer was a very popular name for people born in the 1970's.

Anyway, this Jennifer was not the Jennifer that was friends with Marni and a compulsive liar.  This Jennifer is the one that I ended up getting together with a few times after high school.

Back to the story. Jennifer had the crush. Then during a play rehearsal, he was playful with me. There was something with a flashlight, maybe?  I interpreted it as flirting. Or wanted to believe it was. And that's how the crush began.  I kept it secret for many years.

I finally told Jennifer the last time we saw each other.

I don't remember her reaction.

Oh wait!

I actually have the whole story written down.

Here we go....

It all started 2 weeks ago at the Mr. Wonderful Contest. I was there with Jen. Tim was the host and he was going around asking the audience questions. 

Once he was behind us and he started to stare at me. It was like he was hypnotized or something. Then I kept on worrying that night, that what would I do if he liked me and how would it effect Jennifer and I's friendship.

It was so dumb because I was so worried and all he did was look at me.

Then on Friday at the play he was there to help with the props. Unlike Jennifer, it was easy for me to talk to him. He wore a winter hat with a pom pom and I wore my black hat. He took my hat and he put it on his head while he put his hat on mine.

Then later he kept shining a flashlight in my eyes.

Once me, Peter, and him were sitting there and I grabbed his hat off. All of a sudden, I got so scared that he was going to get mad and yell at me or hate me. I was scared because when I grabbed Stuart's hat at camp, he got so mad. But Tim didn't. He just took the hat all the way off and then I think he asked what we  were doing for spring break.

I don't know if he likes me, but I know I like him.  (4/2/90).

Well, I can't blame my past self for imagining that Tim might be interested in me. That does sound sort of flirtatious.  If we were characters in a teen movie, I'd say there was DEFINITELY something there.  In real life, though.  Well, the skeptical part of me is thinking, this Tim might just be flirtatious. He might have liked the feeling of being the object of many people's affections.

You know, there's a part of me that wants to find and confront every guy I had a crush on in Middle School and High School—Han, Mike, Larry, Stuart, Tim, etc. and ask them if they ever had any interest in me.  Did I have a chance in hell? Or was I being completely delusional?