Diary Friday: “17 says that a hearty laugh is equal to a 3-mile run. If that is so, then why am I not anorexic?

Here’s one from my sophomore year in high school. It’s mortifying to share this. And being mortified publicly is what I’m all about.

JANUARY 7

J. came home with me today. I cannot explain the fun. [And then I proceed to “explain the fun”.]

17 says that a hearty laugh is equal to a 3-mile run. If that is so, then why am I not anorexic?

We watched GH [those initials should need no explanation] and almost cried when Noah hurt Tiffany. [hahahaha Noah!!!!]

We went up to my room and oddly enough we talked seriously for a long time. About prejudice and the Ku Klux Klan. [Like I said in the first paragraph – “I cannot explain the fun”: the FUN of discussing the KKK!] I am terrified of those men. I have horrible nightmares and I hate them so much. How — HOW can someone not like someone because – OF THE COLOR OF THEIR SKIN!!! Or their religion? It is totally unfathomable to me. And it makes me so mad. I could never put the feelings into words. It really really scares me.

We were called downstairs at 5:30 and I had 3 pieces of pizza!!! [Hence, the lack of anorexia.]

I am so ashamed.

We left right after for Tootsie.

Guess who was there? Mere, Beth, Michelle and Jayne! We all sat together. I think it was better the second time, because I knew what to expect – and none of the lines flew by me. When Bill Murray said, “You slut” – I swear, Mere and I were leaning over, holding our stomachs, and just LAUGHING. It was great.

When we got home, J. and I went into the den and – I revealed some deep secrets – and I could NOT believe that she did the same thing. I really must sound desperate but, at times, I do pretend that I have a boyfriend. When I’m alone, I act out imaginary scenes with him, and fights, and I turn on Barry Manilow music when we make up. [That is literally the funniest most embarrassing thing I have ever heard in my life.] I lie in bed and pretend that we’ve just made love. I swear, I am in need of a dildo. [I cannot BELIEVE I even knew that word. ??????? I am shocked at my younger self. But yes, Sheila, you should get one. Pronto. Trust me.]

We were laughing so hard though because we both do the SAME things and we never knew about it! I kept going, “I feel as if a great weight has been taken off my shoulders!” We compared stories and laughed endlessly because J. said, “Well, my purple pillow is my boyfriend,” and I said, “Well, my backrest is really good cause it sort of has arms.” We laughed about that for about 15 minutes. I tell you, I’m laughing now!!! J. kept saying it: “It sort of has arms!” I can’t believe that I actually told someone my deep dark secret and found that she did it too. We were lying on the floor in the den, ROARING. But of course we both laugh silently. If anyone had listened at the door, they wouldn’t have even thought we were in there.

At 1:00, we were still up – so we watched a Barbra Streisand movie that was on: “Owl and the Pussycat.” We were dying laughing at her outfit with the handprints on her boobs.

And now, the sun is “spitting morning” into my face. BYE!

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9 Responses to Diary Friday: “17 says that a hearty laugh is equal to a 3-mile run. If that is so, then why am I not anorexic?

  1. Mark says:

    When I’m alone, I act out imaginary scenes with him, and fights, and I turn on Barry Manilow music when we make up.

    I actually had to walk away from the computer for a good 10 minutes to compose myself after reading this.

  2. CGHill says:

    If ever I’m pulled over for blatant firearm display on the freeway, I’m going to have to remember to tell the officer “I sort of have arms.”

    That’s a seriously great line, even thrown horribly out of context (as I just did).

  3. Jen W. says:

    I just guffawed at the Barry Manilow part.

  4. Marianne says:

    Hilarious! This is a short story. I guarantee publication.

  5. Mr. Lion says:

    And to think, we teenage boys wanted nothing more than to find out what you girls were talking about together.

    The horror… the horror…

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