March 27, 1999

In English class, we were supposed to go through these poem books and pick out deep poems that meant something to us. That was a pretty challenging task, considering the poem books we had were all children's poems. I managed to find a reasonable one, about a girl named Samantha who gets eaten by a panther. [That does sound reasonable.]

I purposefully gave myself laryngitis by screaming a lot into a pillow and clearing my throat in this way that like, ruptures your vocal chords. I like how my voice sounds now: all squeaky and sexy. [This day just keeps getting more and more reasonable.]

I have been thinking about life. I am young right now, but soon I will be like, fifty, looking at pictures of the younger me, feeling nostalgic. That means thinking about the past and missing it. I feel that way a lot now - just imagine how I will feel when I'm fifty!

Last night, I was in the mood for a good cry, so I took out my diary from December, 1997, and started reading about Zach and all my old friends. I came to that letter he wrote me about how he is so sorry for breaking up with me, and could I ever forgive him? It is still folded in exactly the same way as it was when I got it.

I opened it and read it and did not feel one twinge of pain. I did not, in any way, feel depressed to not be going out with Zach anymore. I can't yet go so far as to say that I laughed at myself for ever being so stupid as to like him, but I think I'll be able to do that soon.