Another entirely unedited diary entry from when I was eleven years old. Maybe I was in a rush? I have no idea what trick I’m talking about, either. Also, notice that we can already see the beginnings of my “purse issues” as well as the beginnings of my feelings of isolation and longing to be understood. It’s especially clear when you get to the purse part. Notice my inner-conflict: Becky “had” to get a purse, meaning it wasn’t something she, nor any of us, should really want to do. And yet, she had the purse that I wanted.
Nobodys lissening (sic) to what I have to say anymore. This morning when I wanted to show my sister a trick (sic). My sister got mad at me so I ask (sic) my mom. She got mad a me to (sic). I asked Maggy again and then everybody got mad at me. So I ended up showing my dog. But she didn’t even listen to me. So I just did the trick. Nobody was interested.
Last Thursday my best friend from Reno came. You remember her, you know Becky.Well you see she came from Reno and went to Satly (sic). And then she went to her grandma (sic) in Fremont. Wednsday (sic) night she called me and told me she was coming Thursday. Whe (sic) had a lot of fun. I also found out that she got her period. She has to carry a purse. She has the purse that I always wanted to get. But I got this little thing made out of real leather. I saw a little kid with a purse just like it playing house. Well I better go now.