Looking Back...

Every once in a while, I get a desire to look at my old journals. And this past weekend, I felt that itch. So, I read most of my oldest journal which spans from August 1991 (when I was 10) to some time in early 1996 (when I was 15). I only wrote in it sporadically, which is why that same journal lasted me so long. Well, towards the end of it, I started writing a lot more frequently, and by the time I hit 10th grade, I was writing in a journal every day. It is interesting to see how my handwriting changed. It is interesting to see how my grasp of the English language (and spelling) improved over time (this is how I spelled Chinese in 5th grade: chinease). It is sometimes absolutely hilarious to see some of what I wrote back then. Of course, it is also sometimes cringe-inducing to see what I wrote. A few examples:

Funny
Apparently there was a time in my life when I was absolutely boy-crazy. And it lasted quite a while. I would read journal entries where I was soooo "in love" with a boy named Derek. I could not imagine a day when I wouldn't feel that way. (I literally wrote that I figured I would "always love him"). Then my next journal entry would be the following week and I'd say, "I don't love Derek anymore." And I'd be just OVER THE MOON over a new guy, like Jack. Hahaha. In some ways (like this) life was simpler then. Okay, then I get to 7th-grade and am "in love" with a guy (I should probably say kid, being as I was much younger then) named Cody from church. And passing him in the hallway at school was like the epitome of a good day for me. So there is one journal entry I wrote in January 1994 (I was 13) that I say, "I passed Cody in the hall today and I said, 'Hi Cody' and he said, 'Hi Hila.' It was a moment worth saving." Oh man, I'm cracking up now. What constituted that being a "moment worth saving" is so beyond me, it's not even funny. I actually told my dad about that one (when I was talking to him on Friday night), and he laughed and laughed and laughed (because I was cracking up too).

Sad
Okay, one thing that does happen when I read back is that I can remember that there were things that really did hurt my feelings. And even though most of what I wrote back then makes me laugh now at how corny it was, there are things that I still know hurt me very much. I had huge self-esteem issues and always felt fat and ugly.

Cringe-Inducing
There are a lot of these. Some of them I don't really remember, but I wrote them down, so I know they happened. One example is my rebellious years of 9th grade. That's when I turned into a brat with an attitude problem. My poor parents. The best example I have from what I read this weekend was one that happened in January of 1996. January 24th, to be exact. I don't know what all happened, but basically, I wanted to go to the swimming pool after school, but I didn't want to go alone. Well, after Christina's "stupid" dance class, she decided to take two of her "stupid friends home" so she wasn't going to go to the pool with me. Brad was being his "gay self" and wouldn't go to the pool either. Mom had a retirement party to go to, so she wasn't going to go swimming either. So I was mad, and so we went to my dad's office for a family discussion (probably about my attitude). Well, we had one of our "stupid fights" (probably instigated by me) and my dad said, "Well, if you hate this family so much, why don't you just get up and leave." So I did, and my mom got worried about me, so she came out to find me. But I hid so she couldn't see me and she got in the car and started trying to find me. She finally saw me and pulled up to me. I opened the van and got out my backpack and swimming stuff. My mom said, "Where are you going?" And I said, "I don't know." And my mom said, "Well, how are you going to get home?" And I said, "I don't know. Maybe I won't even come home." So, my mom was upset, but she left. Then my dad came and "started asking me more stupid questions." Finally he left. I ended up at the swimming pool, and eventually Christina came to swim with me... And life went on (as evidenced by the fact that a nearly 27-year old Hila was reading that entry on Friday and just wanted to die at how awful she was to her parents.) Seriously... I added the dialog in quotes (all the "stupids") because that's what it said in my journal. And just to give you an idea of my bad attitude. I feel so bad that I acted that way. And the really heart-wrenching part is that both of my parents displayed so much love and concern for me (my mom worrying about me and trying to find me; my dad coming to the pool to try to talk it out with me by asking questions) and all I selfishly could think of was how much I hated my family. I didn't really hate them. But I sure acted horribly toward them. And now I regret it so much. So, for any of you who thought I was a complete angel, now you know the truth ;). The amazing thing, though, is that my parents love me. Unconditionally. I know they have forgotten this incident and I know they loved me then and I know they love me now. What a blessing to know what unconditional love is; what a blessing to have parents who taught me that.

Well, I hope you guys don't think I'm a totally awful person now that I shared that story. I feel like one :(...

Oh, by the way, I found what I wrote the first day of my 11th grade year. I think it is hilarious, because I still feel that way (only now, I don't have summer vacations to alleviate the pain :)): "There's nothing like the sheer torture of forcing your exhausted body out of bed when it knows it isn't facing anything exciting. My parents woke me up at 5:30, but my philosophy is 'if the sun ain't shining, then why should I?' So I went back to sleep for 15 more minutes and then finally drug myself out of bed at 5:45. I rode the bus this morning for the first time in two years. Not that I was thrilled for the opportunity or anything." That's all I wrote that day. I just chuckled, though, because it sounds like me :).

M.A.S.H.
Oh yeah!! I also found, tucked into one of my journals, a time when Christina and I played the M.A.S.H. game. You know, Mansion Apartment Shack House. According to that particular game of M.A.S.H., I should be married to Eric (who wore a black tux to our wedding while I wore a perriwinkle (what was I thinking???) gown). We should be living the high life in our mansion in Nebraska with our three kids, while I am making the big bucks as a teacher and driving a Dodge van. Hmmm. How close to reality did this get?

Well, again, I hope you guys don't think less of me now. I know we all go through a rebellious stage, but I sure wish I hadn't!!! I wonder if you could have convinced me then that in 12 years, I would love my family so much that I would be hoping to move close to them after graduate school!?!

Oh, and I guess they had a sewage problem at the library over the weekend. Apparently raw sewage overflowed and soaked the carpet and furniture (GROSS). They had police officers being "gate-keepers" and only letting those of us who work here come in. I overheard this after I got to my desk, and also overheard that they aren't letting students in. So, we who work here have the exclusive privelege of entering the raw-sewage building... "not that I [am] thrilled for the opportunity or anything." :) :).