[junior high diary] candy grams and valentine's day

"Monday, February 14, 2000: Happy Valentine's Day! I had the most fun in the snow. I had a snowboard lesson but I didn't like it and I think the teacher taught me the wrong thing. After lunch I rented skis and had a good time. I hope I get candy grams from other people than my friends (like maybe Justin.) I don't think he will though because I think he likes Heather. I don't like Heather. Once in my year book I said she was one of my best friends. YEAH RIGHT. She's to popular for me. I'm going to go waterskiing this weekend. It's going to be freezing. But I can't wait. For Valentine's Day my mom got me this bathing suit and I remembered that Kathleen had the same one (just bigger) and it made me sad. I miss her so much, I even started crying. I can't wait to see her. It will be so much fun. And I still need to give her her Christmas present. I miss her so much.

I only got 1 candy gram. It was from Nicole Frey. I was so disappointed because I wanted to get 1 from Justin. He is so cute! When I got to the Growing Room, Chris told me she got a candy gram from Gianni (who she likes, and he likes her) that said, "I like you." Isn't that so cute? I think it is. But ther they're only 5th graders. I mean, shouldn't I have a boyfriend before them? But I'm happy for them"

In February of 2000, I was eleven years old (actually, eleven and a half, which I'm sure I made a point to explain to anybody willing to listen...They needed an explanation as to why I was so much more mature than the average eleven year old). I'm not quite sure what the "healthy" age for crush/relationship development is, but I know that that desire was alive and well in me by 2000. Eleven years of marketing and Disney fairy tales had instilled within me an awareness of the importance of Valentine's Day, as well as a few unrealistic expectations. Sure, Justin Jones wasn't my friend, but that could all be a hoax--a complex and dramatic scheme to surprise me with an abundance of Candy Grams come 5th period. He would surprise me with his sensitivity and thoughtfulness, we would fall in love and live happily ever after. (This might explain why I don't like surprises: they only lead to disappointment. Thanks, Justin. Thanks a lot.)

Of course, there was Heather Miller. She'll reappear in many journal entries over the next year. She was the popular girl at school, way more popular than I could ever dream of being. Plus, she was blonde when being blonde decided everything. Let's be honest about that yearbook situation: wishful thinking. Maybe I thought that I could will it to be true, if I wrote it in pen. There's really no way of knowing that thought process, but Heather was never my best friend. In fact, she was the enemy of my love life, the biggest obstacle in my path to true love with JJ. More on that later.

Turns out I only got one sad and lonely Candy Gram. I should've been grateful, but I was eleven and insecure and banking on Candy Grams as the only way to find love in my life. Plus, you might remember Nicole Frey from a previous journal entry; she's the same friend who I worked on science fair projects with. Sure, she was actually a great and loving friend, but not the ideal person to spend Valentine's Day with when you're hoping for Justin Jones (hey, did I mention that he's cute? Oh ya. Ya, I did. EVERY TIME I WROTE HIS NAME).

Then there's he Growing Room. The Growing Room was the daycare that I went to until I was twelve. Yes, twelve years old. Far too old for daycare, older than any other student in the history of the center, older even than their rules technically allowed. I blamed a lot of my relational problems on this place and it was one of my main insecurities. It'll reappear many more times.

Chris and Gianni went to The Growing Room too, but of course, that was acceptable because they were still 5th graders. Fifth graders are so young and stupid about the workings of love--what do they know about Candy Grams? Me, the sixth grader, knew so much more. I deserved one. I deserved love. Unhealthy sense of entitlement much? I would've been happier for them if I hadn't been so insanely jealous. I must've acknowledged that later, when I added in a new pen color: But I'm happy for them. Just in case somebody accessed my journal, they needed to know that I was still nice enough to be excited for new love.

Relationally frustrated, "nice," shallow and surprisingly insecure. That about sums up Junior High for me.

The Growing Room (A Preview of the Next Entry): "I think 1 of the reasons Justin doesn't like me is because I go to the Growing Room and Heather doesn't. I can tell so much that he totally flirts with Heather."

[junior high diary] important updates

**address and phone numbers blocked out for safety reasons

"Kathleen moved. Her new address is 2140 Kingsbridge Way. Her phone # is 805-38x-xxxx and her pager is 805-38x-xxxx. I miss her so much! I can't wait until tomorrow! I am so excited about snowboarding. Justin Jones is so cute! and smart and nice. I love frozen waffles! They are so good. Today I got Winnie the Pooh Valentines and glued 2 chocolate <3s 2 each 1. It's so cute! (& tasty)."

For the sake of those anxiously awaiting this blog (Joe...), I will comment only on the necessities.

1. Kathleen was my best friend. Lest you think that I wrote her entire address, phone number and pager (A pager?! Why she had a pager, I have no idea...) simply for my own records, let me give you some insight into me. Twelve-year-old Kara had this weird obsession with people knowing how smart she was, even if it was simply my ability to memorize my best friend's contact information. 
2. Kathleen moved to Southern California right before sixth grade. I was devastated. I lost my best friend, my walk-to-school buddy, and the only person who didn't mock my frozen waffle habit. I missed her so much that I even underlined it in a different color and kept my ADD at bay for a whole 6 lines!
3. Of course, the rest of this entry is dedicated to very important updates. Yes, I loved frozen waffles. Not just Eggos that we heated up, but literally, frozen waffles. I'd take them straight from the freezer and eat 2 or 3 while watching my daily dose of Boy Meets World. I stand by twelve-year-old me's assessment: they are so good. 
4. Lastly, Winnie the Pooh Valentines. Further evidence of my Winnie the Pooh Problem, which will resurface regularly over the next two years. So cute. So tasty. 

[junior high diary] why justin jones is great

**Disclaimer: 

Dear Justin Jones, If you are reading this, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I hope you are flattered, not scared. Really, this was 11.5 years ago. Please know that I've moved on. Or have I? Love always, Kara

"I still like Justin, he's so cute!!!! He's also very smart. He got on Gold Honor Roll, just like me. I have an open book test in Social Studies tomorrow. I didn't study. I also have a science test on Wednesday. I hope I do good. Yesterday I went to Nicoles house and worked on a science project. In art I am drawing a puppy. He is so cute! On Saturday, I am going snowboarding for the first time! I'm so excited! I hope I don't hurt myself or fall (to many times). I skipped my piano lesson today because I hadn't practiced at all. Justin Jones is so cute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hate the group corn (I know thats not how you spell it) and I love Blink 182. I want the C.D.!"

My junior high diary epitomized life as an 11 year old girl and affirmed every stereotype you can think of. Nearly every single entry follows an easy-to-use format.

1.  Begin with important updates: Don't worry, world: Justin is still cute.
2. Clarify to avoid confusion; add self-affirmations if necessary: I'm not only interested in his good looks. He's smart. As smart as me, and we all know how smart I am. Things could definitely work with him. Plus, the presence of Mr. Popular on the Gold Honor Roll lends credibility to my 4.0 GPA.
3. Discuss highlights (and concerns) of next few days: My brother always told me that I had book smarts, not street smarts. It was important for me to maintain this reputation. If I was going to stay on the Gold Honor Roll, I needed to excel in everything, from Social Studies to Science (twice), to art. Somehow, snowboarding got thrown in, too. And piano lessons.
4. Use incorrect grammar, change pens frequently, practice penmanship: Forget apostrophes or the proper uses of "good" and well." English wasn't my thing. I was a science girl (yes, I competed annually in the science fair. See below.) Handwriting didn't much matter, either (though, I must admit, I thought mine was the best.) Pen changes indicate an editing process. Typically, I would read my wise words at a later date and realize that my writing was incomplete, which, conveniently, allowed me to give myself grace.
• Ex: I had an open book test in Social Studies. The addition of "I didn't study" indicates that I probably didn't "do good," but it's okay, because I've given myself an excuse. 
5. Follow up on important points. Use exclamation points for emphasis: "Justin Jones is so cute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" It was worth noting again.
6.  Disclose dorky information about self: This entire journal entry speaks for itself.
7. Leave the audience with something thought provoking. Make a statement: If there was one thing that I hated in junior high, it was the band Korn. Mostly they scared me. I protested their music in the only way I knew how: misspelling their name (a powerful and effective tool). But, to end on a good note, I loved Blink 182. The evidence? My first screen name: wtpoohntiggertoo182 (Yes, Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too, 182).
8. Use pencil as a protective measure: I had this habit of writing about the boys I liked in pencil. Just in case somebody gained entry into my house, found my journal in its hiding space and broke open the lock, I needed to be ready, at any moment, to erase the evidence of my crushes. Despite being completely illogical, pencil gave me that security.

In summary:

Number of Exclamations Used: 31

Number of Exclamations Used in Reference to Justin Jones: 28

Science Fair, 2000. 

Important Updates (A Preview of the Next Entry): "Justin Jones is so cute! and smart and nice. I love frozen waffles! They are so good."

[junior high diary] elliott brown and frankenstein

This is the first entry of the new section of my blog "Kara Goes to Junior High." It documents my junior high years with actual pages from my junior high diary. Welcome and enjoy.

"A lot has happened. I stopped liking Elliott Brown because he looks like frankinstein. I liked Sean McFaul but My Friend Brooke Kirby fell for him at they've been acting like there going to get married, so now I like Elliott again.

I passed fourth grade. I'm going in to 5th. I hope I Get Mrs. Harrison. she seems nice. there are only 48 more days untill my birthday. I even made a chain. "

This is how I start the update on my life. Ridiculous. Somehow, not surprising at all.
I don't quite know where to begin. My priorities? My handwriting? The fluid movement of my thoughts? My embarrassing grasp (or lack thereof) of the English language? Spelling? Capitalization? Granted, I knew enough to pass the fourth grade. We should definitely celebrate that great feat. And I was learning all sorts of heart-lessons. Lessons on popularity and love, the theme of almost every entry of this journal.

Sean McFaul was pretty popular. He was kind of a bad boy. The quintessential would-be party guy. You'll soon find out that I was not. Thankfully, fourth grade was before the popularity hierarchy was fully established and before I realized just how dorky I was. Unfortunately, I'd already started dreaming about my prince charming. He wore Stussi t-shirts and had bleach blond tips. Elliott Brown didn't quite make the cut. (Or did he? When things don't work out with Mr. Popular, I guess the average 10 year old girl is more than okay with settling for Frankenstein? Yes, these are my first ideas about the dating world. I started with unhealthy ideas to deconstruct. Lucky me.) Elliott Brown was the first in a long line of crushes and unrequited love. You'll soon see--there will be much more on that later.

Personally, my favorite part is the birthday chain. Apparently there aren't too many differences between 1998-Kara and 2011-Kara: thirteen years later, I still love birthdays. Convenient because there are only 3 more days untill my birthday. No chain necessary.




Why Justin Jones is So Great (A Preview of the Next Entry): "I skipped my piano lesson today because I hadn't practiced at all. Justin Jones is so cute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

dear soulmate

I met my most recent and intense crush last night.

[I use the word "met" liberally--what I mean is that I saw him, oogled over him, freaked out about him, and acknowledged him as my soul mate all in the span of 6 minutes.]

I noticed his dancing first. Flailing arms and hip-hopping and moves so extreme he ended up on the floor. Literally (though that might have had to do a bit more with slipping in a puddle of water spilled on the floor..?). After a barrage of foreigners (one who offered a romantic vacation for two to his home in Brazil; one who didn't understand the concept of "no;" one who hit on me to get to my "friend in the dress..."), he was a welcome (and perfectly silly) relief.

Did I mention his skin? Olive. Perfectly olive. And I'm pretty sure I heard him whisper "te amo" as he walked past me (a girl can dream, right??)...[Speaking of dreams...I have dreams of a multi-racial and bilingual family...this seems like a good place to start.] Oh, and glasses with a v-neck shirt. Seriously?!

And you should know that it is my life goal to be more brave.

So I had the option of walking away, saying something to him, or sending Kendra in my place. (I am blessed to have a roommate much more brave than I...)

Her: (chasing after him, poking him on the back) Hi. Umm...I'm so sorry if this is totally awkward, but my friend thinks you're really cute and...

Him: (laughing, excited) Really?! Okay...well...what do we do now??

His Friends: GET HER NUMBER!

Him: Oh, but sadly I'm not single...

Her: Okay...I'm sorry...I just had to ask. You know, just in case you were soul mates...

Friends: (sighing) Awww...soul mates...

(Kendra walks away)

And that was my baby-step towards bravery.

I live with the hope that enough baby-steps will lead me straight to the man who will one day, some day, be my husband; the man who will one day, some day, receive a decade worth of letters tied together with yarn (his will be the only other set of eyes to have ever read those words); the man who will one day, some day, know all the plans and dreams and heartbeats that led this little lady to him, full of love.

Today, a letter to that man:

I promise to be brave and love you forever.

squishy

for those who need clarification:

{dedicated to taylor}

(this is a half joke...)

i can't tell you how many times i've used this term to describe a new (or ongoing) crush, or my ideal boyfriend/husband. it's weird that we talk about it, but it's sad that more people don't use this term more frequently. here we go...

squishy: a term used to describe a particular body type and/or way of life

squishy is: a term of endearment, such a good compliment, exactly what every guy should aim for

squishy is not: an insult or a flaw

if someone is squishy, he is:

in shape and healthy, but not too firm or musclely

gives great hugs, good at cuddling

[never like hugging a rock, which is painful and (obviously) a deal-breaker]

usually quirky, always kind, slightly dorky

awesome without knowing it (or, at least he is very humble)

{for further clarification: examples!}

people who are squishy:

quirky, kind, dorky, cute, cuddly :)

people who are not squishy:

too buff/toolish/gross...

obviously, taylor and i are the ultimate experts on this term and we make the final decisions about a person's squishiness...if you have questions, or would like to do further comparison, please...comment away :) :)

now, there can be no more confused faces when this comes up in everyday conversation (and it will)

p.s. this makes me dorky and weird, and i know it...

this just happened

i'm in the elevator, on the phone with my best friend, obviously not paying attention
i press "1" because i'm going to the laundry room to move my clothes from the washer to the dryer

i'm talking, talking, talking
the doors open, i get off the elevator, two boys get on
still talking
i look around and think to myself, this doesn't look like the first floor
and i immediately realize that it is, in fact, the second floor
so i quickly run back, screaming "WAIT! WAIT!"

the boys hold the door open for me
and look at me like i'm a bit crazy
because i kind of overreacted
and i'm still on the phone, talking talking talking

trisha asks me "what just happened?"
she's kind of laughing, like she can sense how weird the situation was for me
i briefly recapped the story, for her and these two boys, saying,
"it was suppppper awkward and now i'm embarrassed"

so now i'm in the elevator with these two boys who i've never seen before and i'm still on the phone, trying to make small talk so that the 20 second ride to the first floor isn't even more awkward than i had already made it
we get to the first floor, and i'm closest to the door, so i get off first
they follow
i exit the lobby, and turn left to go to the laundry room
they follow
of course they follow
i make a joke, like "are you guys following me? now this is getting really creepy and awkward"
i'm just calling it like it is

i end my phone conversation and enter the laundry room
i go immediately to "my" washer and open it up
then walk over to the dryers, select one and open it up as well
as i'm walking back to the washer, guess who opens the laundry room door
just guess
boy one and boy two
and so we make a few comments like "whoa...this is weird...whoa...of course....whoa...hahaha...."
boy two walks over to "my" washer, as if it's his own
and i make a joke about how it was only slightly weird that they had followed me, but now he was taking my laundry and it was reaching a whole new level of weird

then i immediately realize: it's not my laundry
it's boy two's laundry in boy two's washer
and now i'm the creep
who opened his washer before he was even in there
and almost claimed his clothes as my own

super weird, but we're all laughing

of course, i start my dryer at literally the exact same moment that they start theirs
so now, there are 45 minutes until my clothes AND their clothes are dry
and we're all leaving the room
recognizing that we're kind of sort of friends now AND we're walking back to the elevator together and so we might as well just embrace this new friendship

so i introduce myself to travis and kyle who live on the second floor and have never been up to the third floor
unfortunately for them, the fourth floor is where it's at and they've been missing out
travis overheard my previous phone conversation in which i mentioned that i would be playing scrabble this evening
which started a fairly intense, slightly rushed conversation about scrabble and different ways to play and which way is best and i'm in love
of course, we reached the second floor, but were mid-conversation
so boy one stood in the doorway and continued telling me about this special version of scrabble that i really should play tonight
and i was so tempted to invite boy one and boy two up to 432 to play scrabble with us
but alas, the doors closed and i'm not brave enough to invite my new stranger friends to play a surprisingly fun game

which worked out better, actually, because upon return to my room, my roommate and i did a "domestic" photoshoot in matching outfits. pictures to come soon.

grammar

if only there were a way to write that didn’t feel so insanely vulnerable
like the naked dream on replay
which i’ve never had
but i feel like it would feel somewhat like writing
like bearing your soul for the world to read and stand all over
with their response hidden from my eyes

i know that i don’t have to write
but sometimes it feels like words are all that I have to offer
and i’m not using punctuation because i don’t like the finality of periods
commas are okay
because there is still more to come

i’m not good at talking unless i really know what to say
or have it planned out
i stumble over my words and get too excited
i’m awkward and unprepared
sometimes for important conversations, i write it out first so that it’s
perfect
because i don’t want to screw it up
i usually do anyways

but when i write, my mind and my soul come together and everything is
clear
and even if you don’t, i get it
for me,
writing is cathartic
writing is worship
i love music
a lot
a lot a lot
but words
connect me with my Jesus

everything is a story
i hope that my story points to Him
i hope that my words point to Him

writing is scary
because i want to shout from the rooftops about
His goodness
but how do i do that without letting you into a part of me
that is reserved for very few
that is reserved for One
or two, someday

how do i tell you about His mercy without telling you that
i need mercy
how do i tell you about His strength without telling you that
i am weak
how do i tell you that He bound up my broken heart without telling you that
i am broken
how do i tell you that He is peace without telling you that
i know anxiety
and i don’t particularly feel comfortable having my
life on display
it felt safer when i knew that my mom was the only one reading
anything that i wrote
but if it is what He wants, then
here it is

right now, i don’t like the finality of periods
maybe it’s not just with periods
i don’t like finality
period
(haha)

except in some cases
like love
and marriage
and that a ring means forever
and ever
you can put a billion periods after my wedding day
i like that

but sometimes i don't like finality
that something is over, forever
it feels like giving up
walking away, without hope
and i have hope

maybe it isn’t giving up
maybe it’s letting something new begin with the excitement of
Capitalization
and i love that newness

still, i am an idealist
i don’t want to give up on anything that
He still has plans for

except there are somethings
i wish would just end
with 8,000 periods behind it
………………
because it just needs to be done

but life is a run-on sentence
or maybe thirty
with commas and semi-colons and parentheses
and i don't know where it will go
and i don't know where to put the periods
because i'm not writing this story