This is me in approximately 3rd grade at my best friend's birthday party (obviously in December). AWW I know I know I'm cute. The complete and total awkwardness didn't set in for another couple years. Apparently I was appalled at the thought of trying on dress-up clothes without wearing a T-shirt underneath. #modesty4lyfe
I've kept journals my whole life. Looking back, it was probably a good indication that I would one day love to write.
I mean, these entries are literary masterpieces, after all. Someday someone will probably compile them into a memoir and it will sell millions of copies worldwide and those millions of lives will be touched by my experiences and everyone will go on and on about how it's a shame I wasn't appreciated in my time and I'll get all kinds of awards posthumously and the next generation will have to use their internet watch or whatever to google what "posthumous" means because the english language will probably be effectively destroyed by then.
You don't know. It could happen.
Anyway, the point is, I have journals. From about 2nd grade all the way through college, and the occasional entry now.
One of the advantages of this is that I have access to a glimpse into the mind of an average [insert age here]-year-old at the drop of a hat.
I realize this is a somewhat unique position to be in, and such potentially-enlightening insight shouldn't be hoarded or squandered, but shared, right? With great power comes great responsibility and all that.
So without further ado, I present to you, tales from a 3rd grade journal:
July 26, 1996
I'm 8 years old now and I'm going in to 3rd grade. I'm also having a g-r-reat summer! I went to spend-the-night camp at marannook. It was fun! I also went to Canada.
P.S. We also went to the Olipics.
July 27, 1996
This morning a bome went off at the Olimpic Park. 110 people got injeired and 2 people lost there lives. It
[editor's note: that "It" was actually written there. It what?? IT WHAT???]
Feb. 4, 1997
Today I used a macanical pencil. Because yesterday mommy bought some for me. (and I paid her back.) And know what? Yesterday, oh,
Sorry Gotta Go!!
Why did I have to go?? What happened at school?? How did the mechanical pencil usage affect my schoolwork??
Stay tuned for answers to these and other burning questions in the next installment of "Tales from a 3rd Grade Journal." (Trust me, it's a good one.)