Friday, August 26, 2005

Hailey Jones, age 8

As you know, we recently moved, and though there are few things that I can think of right now that are not hellish about the whole process, there is one redeeming factor. You have to go through tons of old stuff. OK, before I completely lose you, that is not the fun part. The fun part is that, while going through said old stuff, you occasionally stop and look at what you're going through and you find little gems. Now usually, I stand in my basement chuckling to myself, but I thought, why not share my secret mirth with others? Also, it is becoming apparent to me that the "precious" stuff in boxes that I am constantly moving and restoring serves only one purpose: to be looked at and chuckled at every two years like some sad old clown. So I thought I might give some of these poor box-doomed items fifteen minutes of blog glory.

The first item I offer you is entitled The Ramona Quimby Diary, a little book that serves as a diary for little girls and also has the bonus of featuring little excerpts here and there from Beverly Cleary's Ramona series. Now while I'm sure it would be amusing to share some of those excerpts from those books here, this blog is about me so I'm more interested in the little girl's diary part, namely, my diary. There are lots of blank spaces in the diary to write your feelings. I guess I wasn't interested in those, as they remain blank. My favorite parts were seemingly the questionnaires, and those are what I'd like to share with you. The following are sample questions from the diary, along with my answers: (my 28-year old comments are in parentheses)

This is what I like about myself: how I can read and spell and draw, and that way I'm almost the smartest kid in my class. And also make-up the best stories.

(Almost the smartest? Dang. I wonder who was smartest. I also find it amusing that I did not "make up" the best stories, I just put "make-up" on them.)

I don't like these things about myself: my length and my face. And how I'm the oldest in my family because I have to set an example for my little brother and sister.

(My length? Er... Easy there, Smith boys, you know what I meant...)

This year I hope this wish comes true: that my cat will follow me wherever I go.

(All my cats have run away, so fairy godmother, you are so fired!)

These are the foods I really hate: Hash, onions, meatloaf, floats, peppers, squash, and spices.

(I have to explain the "floats." I used to have to take penicillin for my heart murmur. For whatever reason, I couldn't swallow it as a pill, so my mom chopped it up and put it in a root beer float once. I have only recently been able to drink a root beer float without gagging.)

Sometimes I would like to write an angry letter to David Sheldon and complain about how stupid and dumb he is!

(David Sheldon lived two houses down from me. In truth, he's the one who should have the complaint with me. In fifth grade, we "went out" for a while, and then I abruptly dumped him in the middle of social studies class. Across the room. Twice. I mean, I actually mouthed the words "You're dumped," then "J/K" then again for reals. I think he may have started crying. Not one of my proudest moments. You guys, please still be my friends. I will never dump you, I swear.)

The nickname I hate most is: Bun-Buns

(My mom gave me this nickname as an infant. How she had the foresight to know about my future "junk in the trunk," I will never know.)

All in all, the conclusion I draw from my responses above is that I was vain, insecure about my butt, shirked responsiblilty, and thought boys were dumb. Oh, and vain. Hmm. Some things never change.


Hailey said...

I also have to add that my little sister, Maryn, who is now 17, must have stumbled across my diary at some point when she was about 8. At the beginning of the questionnaire entitled "All About Me!" she has erased my pencil-written name, address, and school, and replaced it with hers. She left most everything the same so I guess she figured we had about the same situation going on. Except the place where I wrote that I would name my pet hamster Rikki-Tikki if I had one. She just erased it, with no explanation. She was clearly offended.

Jake said...

You don't like hash, huh? I'm hoping you mean corn beef hash and not the Cannabis variety.

bionictrout said...

By the way, her cat still does follow her around everywhere she goes... Damn wish magic.

Anonymous said...

Oh my goodness!!!
I know what you mean, I have been a victim of Maryn identity theft myself!!
But all that aside, this was one of the funniest things I have ever read... Especially because I have my own treasure chest of ridiculous things and I know EXACTLY what its like, and it's hilarious to remember what strange children we were...!

Betina said...

Yea. In my treasure chest I have a "Little Orphan Annie" diary. But the Ramona one sounds great!

Unknown said...

Nickname I hated the most: Lawrence.

Mostly because I think it was an inside joke against me and I never found out what it meant ... or why these guys called me that.

Jenni said...

So funny to look back and see when it was we became the way we now are...too cute!

Kristen said...

You have a lot be be vain about. ;)

Anonymous said...

Ok, Ok, so you inherited all those qualities from your mother, I admit!! I too am terribly vain, insecure----about the growing innertube around my waist, though---not my butt, and guys, or men, drive me crazy!! I also hate to take responsibility for all the things that I did to mess up my children... As for the cat thing---since you moved out, we've had our cats for 14 and 8 years---so what were you really doing to the cats? Hmmmmm... And why don't you have one now? Hmmmm...

erin said...

cute list!... the part about the floats made me laugh out loud :)

Anonymous said...

If YOU have junk in the trunk, I would like to know how my arse is classified! Old journals are the best. The scariest thing I've done recently is read my junior high diary, it's like I'm completely, just hormonally imbalanced. Bless my heart!

Hailey said...

Becky, you haven't seen me in a while--how do you know I haven't, er, widened?

I guess I am pretty much the same size as those days when you were lacing me into that corset! However, I've always had backside issues, ever since my mom referred to me as the one who inherited the "butt." It's ok, Mom, I've actually made peace with it.

bionictrout said...

By the way, we don't have haired pets because they will put me in a state of anaphylactic shock if I breath air with more than 1 part per million animal hair. Mila keeps saying, "when are we going to have a kitty," and I respond, "what about a nice, cuddly snake?"