We skip forward quite a bit in the diary. (Well, to be honest, there’s one entry from September 3rd that consists of only a picture of I drew of me being excited that “Gundam Wing” wasn’t canceled. We’ll get to that abomination once I can use a scanner.)

Like any TV show with a significant time jump, it’s important to note where we left off. In seventh grade, I was your typical, semi-trendy, stuck-in-the-middle girl. I walked that line between being too cool for the true freaks/geeks, and too lame for the popular kids. There were a lot of us in the middle, and we existed in large, one-gendered groups. The extremely popular and unpopular kids were the first to make opposite-sex friends, which is understandable, since there are only so many other incredibly attractive/hopelessly weird kids per grade. However, if you existed somewhere outside that line, you were doomed to two more years of all-girl lunch tables, group crushes, and unnecessary trips to the bathroom to put on lip gloss/apply body glitter.

Upon entering eighth grade, I decided to start dressing more, um, alternative. Yes, I was a wanna-be Goth crossed with a nerd who loved science fiction and chandelier earrings. This made for some interesting fashion choices, but hey, back then Avril Lavigne didn’t have a clothing line, so I had to fend for myself.

My theory was that I would rather fit in somewhere than sort of float in the sea of other brown-haired girls with glasses who wore cargo pants and butterfly tees.

It didn’t really work out.

(One of my middle school fashion icons was Caitie from the short-lived Disney show “In a Heartbeat.” If you can bear to sit through three minutes of bad editing and Michelle Branch, then watch the video to see how I dressed back in the day. Also: this is just the sort of horrible fan tribute I would have made if we had this kind of technology back in the early 2000s. Let’s all be grateful that YouTube wasn’t invented yet.)

Most of my friends didn’t get it when I came to class on the first day in an all-black ensemble. Looking back, it wasn’t particularly shocking or inappropriate, just incredibly hot for Michigan in August. However, it did change my peer group entirely. I still remained close with my bff Emily, but most of my peripheral friends drifted away. I did maintain my often volatile and ridiculous relationship with my frenemy Stefanie. (Hi Stef! If you’re reading this, I hope you have equally awkward things written about me somewhere.)

11/4/00

Stef is trying to hook me up with her friend, Joe. He said he wanted to meet me after seeing my drawing of Relena on a note she gave him. But how do I know that she isn’t lying to me. She’s lied before.

Also, I’m not sure who I like anymore. I still think Ryan is hot – but I also kinda ❤ David B. That sorta bugs me, but I don’t know either one of them all that much so I’m still just kinda confused about the whole thing. cya!!!

Again, we have a really short entry that basically says nothing. We won’t start seeing consistent entries until around February or March 2001, but the hilarity will remain, consecutive or not.

Relena is (shocking reveal ahead!) a character from “Gundam Wing.” I had some truly horrific anime drawings back then. I’ll scan them someday, and we can laugh and cringe at my artistic endeavors. I also MIGHT have some drawings and early drafts of my very first “Gundam Wing” self-insert fanfiction featuring me and bff Emily as Mary Sues.

We are also entering into a time of great romantic confusion. Get excited about that! My former flame, Ryan, is soon to be traded off for the ever-attractive, ever-douchey, ever-rides-his-tractor-to-school David B. I have no idea where he is now, or if he’s still as attractive as my eighth grade self imagined.

The story of my love for David B. is best savored over the rest of the diary. I appear to be quite the expert on the subject, as it will later fill most of the pages. There are particularly fantastic incidents where I mull over whether a brief interaction means he is hopelessly in love with me.

I actually do remember the story of how we met. It’s not that different from every other story involving my inherent attraction to jerkasses. I’m pretty sure every dude I’ve ever wanted to bang has won my heart by being a complete tool within minutes of our first meeting. I should really figure out the psychological implications of the fact that a guy has to be a douche bag to attract my attention, but I prefer to blame my childhood crushes on fictional bad boys instead.

We had some sort of class poetry assignment, and being the obnoxious wanna-be writer I was, I decided to show everyone up by writing a deep and meaningful poem about how no one understood my tortured heart. After I read my poem aloud, I was supposed to receive feedback in the form of notes from each person in the class. I kept getting tiny little bits of paper with one word on them. Words like “it” and “was” and “lame” kept appearing on tiny, dirty, wrinkled pieces of paper. I looked around to see the culprit, and that’s when David B. and I locked eyes. He winked and gave me one of those confident half-smiles. That was all it took. He had already taken his place as the Rhett Butler to my Scarlett O’Hara.

(Oh, and Joe, the other guy mentioned in this entry? I’m pretty sure he and Stefanie ended up dating. So yeah.)