And so onward with this ridiculous Diary Friday stuff. Posting excerpts from childhood/teenage diaries, merely because I enjoy my own mortification. Or maybe it’s that … we all can relate, to some degree, to how dorky teenagers are … and I enjoy hearing other people’s memories. About their own dorkiness.
I’m going to post a couple other excerpts from my travel journal, of our time in Ireland as a family. I am 13 years old. I find this first excerpt hysterical. I am in IRELAND, and here is what I choose to write about.
WESTPORT, IRELAND
These are some of the fashions here: tight jeans and black and gold leather pumps, grey pinstriped blazers, tube tops, jackets that go below the hips, mini-skirts (black velvet), dotted white tights, red velvet crushed boots, Adidas sneakers, tight-tight-tight spray-painted-on jeans are EVERYWHERE. No one has baggies. [Ed: I am assuming that I am talking about baggie jeans here, which were all the rage in the States at this time.] They also love bobby socks here, especially with mini skirts. [Oh my God – do you remember that look??] No one has top siders or loafers. [That whole preppy thing was OUT OF CONTROL at my school. I never got into it, so I am sure the lack of top siders on the Emerald Isle was quite a relief.] The girls wear maroon, silver, yellow leather pumps. They seem to be very influenced by the English [Ed: Uhm… what, Sheila? You’re 13. What are you talking about??]. All that punk stuff started in England, and it seems to be very big here too. Tight jeans are the thing to wear here. White sneakers (yippee) are also popular. Minidresses too, like I’ve seen in Seventeen. All the girls wear kilts, bobby socks, and black leather Mary Janes shined like a mirror.
[Ed: You may wonder why I shrieked “yippee” about white sneakers. Here is the RIDICULOUS reason, from another journal entry at this time. And yes, Blackie Parrish is involved.]
ACHILL ISLAND, IRELAND
The towns over here are not towns. Just villages on hills, with like one store and a butcher. The people seem really nice, though. Two boys on bikes literally led us to our B&B. This B&B is called Connaught House. CONNAUGHT, MUNSTER, LEINSTER, ULSTER, MEATH. [Ed: Ahem. We were made to memorize these place-names as tots in order to get our allowances.]
My room has a wonderful view of fields, little houses, and then the ocean. There are lots of peat bogs here, and we might be able to cut some peat!!!!!!! [God, I am such a geek.] Soon we’re going downtown to look around. But I don’t feel like it because I am SO COLD!!!!! IT’S FREEZING!!!!!
Later:
The walk was ok. It certainly warmed me up. We saw a field of sheep and the babies were the cutest things I have ever seen. All white, with black heads. Siobhan “baaahed” at them all. [Siobhan was 4. The image of her, in Ireland, is a favorite family memory.]
We might go to church tonight but I don’t want to because everyone here dresses up SO much for church and all I have is this plaid skirt that looks like it comes from the 50s. [Beth? I bet you will remember that skirt.] And all the girls wear Mary Janes and I only have my saddle shoes. [Saddle shoes? What are you, Lucy Van Pelt?]
I wonder how Mere and Betsy and Beth and Kate are. OH I MISS THEM SO MUCH!!!!!
Just thinking about living on this island makes me sick. [Note. I completely changed my tune only 3 days later. I wanted to move to Achill Island, for good.] No t.v., one school, not knowing about fashions. [Oh my God, that is so embarrassing. NOT KNOWING ABOUT FASHIONS? This from a girl wearing SADDLE SHOES??? I am so sorry, lovely people of Achill Island, for my judgment.] All they have here is Irish knit sweaters and skirts. I mean, clothes aren’t everything but I want to know something about what is in and what isn’t. [Okay, this is getting even more embarrassing. This is awful.]
Our house has the most WONDERFUL living room [I sound schizophrenic. Achill Island BAD, oh wait a minute Achill Island GOOD] with a fire, the softest fur rug in front of it and a HUGE tv. [Hm. I seem to recall you mentioning in the paragraph above this one that the people on the island didn’t HAVE tv. Hmmm.] We watched “David Copperfield” all afternoon, and now we are going for a drive up a mountain. This is a very mountainous island.
The old couple who own the B&B are so nice. The old man is so funny, so nice. He said to my father that he looked like Kojak from behind. He has been to America and he said that the sand in Florida was so hot that you could “fry a rasher on it”. He also asked us if Rhode Island was very close to Houston!!
[For some reason, the first line of this next entry made me laugh OUT LOUD when I was reading it this morning.]
ACHILL ISLAND, THURSDAY
Last night we watched “Father Damien – the Leper Priest” on TV with Ken Howard. [HAHAHA What???? However – member Ken Howard? The white shadow? Loved him.] He is SO good. I had already seen the movie before though. [That’s the kicker. I had seen FATHER DAMIEN – THE LEPER PRIEST twice???]
Today we are going to visit a man’s peat bog, and then we are going to look up some old crosses, etc.
I washed my hair this morning, and washed my face, and rubbed in face cream and put on mascara. [Extremely important to list my morning skin ritual, apparently.]
I am getting really sick of the same old breakfast every day. But Dad says that there is this coffee shop in Dublin called Bewley’s or something where they sell delicious donuts and jelly pastries, etc. [Sniff, sniff. Bewley’s … one of my favorite pitstops … soon to be no more …] My mouth is watering already!
Tomorrow we’re going to church.
I should have brought my curling iron.
Rewriting your diary from when you were 13 online while interjecting hilarious comments from today, BRILLIANT!
They just don’t make movies like “Father Damian- The Leper Priest” anymore.
I had no idea what a fashion queen you were back then.
I know. Like … curling iron?? What?
Father Damien, Leper Priest. I am STILL laughing about that. And how I said it, ehm, TWICE??
“this coffee shop in Dublin called Bewley’s or something“.. heh heh.. but I sorry to say I think it’s already closed.
Lots of fashion observations there.. and I love the “looking up some old crosses” line.
Achill though is indeed a very mountainous island. My own over-riding memory of it, from a visit at around 11-12 years old, is of the beaches. The B&B we stayed at had a converted barn with some bedrooms in it.. stratchy woolen blankets! – very uncomfortable and unsophisticated to this particularly worldly 11 year-old – but the beaches were astonishing.. no sand.. just pebbles and I could tell that beyond the water’s edge the sea-floor just dropped away into nothing.. and the waves just rolling in and pounding against the pebbles.. it was marvellous and a little unsettling.
By the end of our stay there, I never ever wanted to leave. I LOVED that place.
Bewley’s was still there on my most recent trip to Ireland – November, or whenever it was. Had to make a little pilgrimage. It SUCKS that it is gone. Just not right.
Yeah, totally. “old crosses”. WhatEVer. Where is my curling iron?
Jaysus these entries kill me, O’ Sheila the Fashion Queen.
A fashion queen wearing saddle shoes. In 1982. I still can’t get over that.
I love the reason given to explain the concern about the curling iron too, Sheila – “Tomorrow we’re going to church”
I know. Good to know I had my religious priorities in place. Church = feathered hair.
well, in your defence, the prospect of visiting a peat bog and looking up some old crosses was, understandably, a cause of concern.
I went to Westport when I was 15. Have really strong memories of the place. My cousin Gerard and I climbed Cro Patrick and had the best – perhaps the only – long conversation we ever had. I believe it involved naming our favorite superheroes.
Oh Sheila, I’m having the worst day. Nice to be reminded I at least happy (ish) childhood.
(had a) happyish childhood. This day is so bad, I’m losing all recollection of the English language.
Mortification factor aside, there is something very poignant about having captured these moments in your life. If you hadn’t painstakingly documented them, they’d be mostly lost to you and entirely inaccessible to the rest of us. It makes me feel a little pang of regret that I’ve never kept a diary, even though I do usually feel mortified whenever I run across something I wrote in my youth…
Mike R:
I am here to sacrifice my OWN dignity (heh heh) in order to spark equally dorky memories in others.
I still can’t get over the saddle shoes detail.
Anne …
Hang in there, woman!!
I don’t know. I may just go under completely. It’s like your Angel cards experience. Like I’m being mocked by the universe.
Sorry – got some bad news earlier, and came here immediately afterwards. Somewhat better now.
No apologies necessary, Anne. None whatsoever.
“Church=feathered hair”
Just snarfed diet pepsi all over the keyboard. Diary Friday is definitely a keeper.
Melissa:
hahahahaha
I mean, come on, isn’t the correlation between church and curling irons one of the Universal Truths? I think it is.
Am I instilling this same Universal Truth into my daughters? Must have curly locks to sit in the pew.