This one is almost too embarrassing for me to get through.
When I was a freshman in high school, my parents yanked us out of school – all 4 of us – ranging in age from 14 to 4 – and brought us over to Ireland. I was the oldest. I was a devoted diary-keeper. I read some of this stuff and tears of laughter stream down my face.
April 3
Logan Airport, 10:00 pm
It is raining like crazy, and it was lightning and thundering. But Aunt Anne called Aer Lingus and everything is on schedule. I am psyched but I am pretending that I am cool as a cucumber. I’m going to be very adult on this trip. [And then immediately write a diary entry that could not be more adolescent if I tried! Ha!!]
As of 10:00 pm I am sitting in a chair after going through that metal zapper machine (without a hitch, I might add) [I’m surprised your braces didn’t set off the “metal zapper machine” – which is called a METAL DETECTOR, Sheila.] and watching all the punk white sneakers stroll by. I am crazy about white sneakers (Rick Springfield, Rod Stewart, Blackie Parrish and Darryl Hall all wear them), a contributing factor to my fondness for them. [WHAT???? What are you TALKING about? White sneakers are “punk”, Sheila? “PUNK”? Uh … Are you sure about that? Sid Vicious is punk, okay? Putting one safety pin through the lapel of the purple coat you bought at Weathervane does not make you punk. Also, “white sneakers” were never punk. Ever. Also, the Blackie Parrish reference is KILLING ME. I suppose the REAL appeal was that he ‘wore white sneakers’. Jesus, Sheila, that is just so crazy.]
I’m pretty punk tonight with my jeans, purple coat and safety pins. [NO YOU’RE NOT. YOU’RE NOT “PRETTY PUNK”. Just STOP.]
But why am I talking about this??? My family is going to Ireland!!! I am going to miss all of my friends incredibly. Mere and Betsy and Beth and Kate. I’ve never even been on a plane before and I am stocked up with gum.
I went to a Good Works play last night with Mere, Betsy, and Beth. Brian C. was there. OH GOD. I love those three kids so much! Mere, Betsy and Beth.
10:15 pm [ That time stamp kills me. I started the whole entry at “10:00 pm”. I then wrote a couple of paragraphs – see above. Then I state “10:15 pm.” It’s not like a huge gap, like I wrote the first section at 10:00 am, and the next time I mention the time it’s 3:00 pm. Like: a lot can happen in 6 hours that would warrant an update. But I clearly had only been writing for 15 minutes! What is the purpose of listing that “10:15 pm”? Obviously nothing earth-shattering had gone down since I had written “10:00 pm”. It kills me!! ]
I am now on the plane all buckled in next to Brendan (thrrrills. he’s gonna talk the whole way). I have a window seat, nanny nanny boo boo. (Oh, how adult I’m being.) [This whole paragraph is horrifying to me, on multiple levels.]
We have a really nice English stewardess. I like her accent. She’s talking to us. Her best friend’s name is Siobhan. Imaaaaaaagine that!
A grease bomb just walked by.
I have never been so frightened. We are going a trillion miles an hour. Don’t let me die. We are up SO high! I’m really scared, folks. [Folks?? Who ya’ talkin’ to?]
1:00 am (6:00 Irish time)
We just had dinner.
Guess what movie they’re showing ? FOUL PLAY. Is that a coincidence or what? (I am madly in love with Chevy Chase.)
April 4
County Clare
Watching the sunrise out of the plane windows was gorgeous. All the clouds were pink and orange and we couldn’t even see the ocean. And flying in over Ireland -oh, it was so pretty! All of the fields divided by hedges – oh, it was so wild. But I forgot to chew gum on the way down and it felt as if someone was pounding on my head with a hammer. [I’m shaking with laughter. I went to the trouble to buy chewing gum to guard against ear-popping during the plane-landing. And then completely forgot about it.]
We had to stand in line at the Shannon airport and wait around. We got this tiny gold car that is so cute. We drove around those winding streets lined with tall hedges and after an hour or so we found a place to stay – McMahon’s Bed and Breakfast Place. It is in Ennistymon. The beds are so comfortable (featherbeds) and Mrs. McMahon is so nice. So are all the people here. They all wave. We unwound for an hour or so and then we went down the street to the Falls Hotel. There we found a river and beautiful waterfalls. Dad took some pictures and then we took off in the car for the Cliffs of Moher. The roads were thin and high and we could look down over the hills and thatched roofs . It was great!
But the cliffs! They were SO incredible. I felt quite nauseous because they were so high. I only went up to this tiny stone castle but Jean, Brendan and Dad went all the way up to the top. It was SO FAR DOWN. I almost couldn’t look.
We took a different ride home and on the way back we stopped in Kilfenora to watch an Irish football game. We stopped and we asked this girl if we had missed the whole thing. And she said in her Irish brogue, “No, we’ve got another half to go.” I like listening to them talk.
We watched the game and it was not at all like our football. The ball was round and they dribbled and pushed and shoved. It was kind of neat.
But I was wiped out and slept the whole way home. I went upstairs and wrote letters to Betsy, Mere, and Beth until supper. We washed up and Mrs. McMahon served us soup and lamb and homemade French fries. It was delicious. Jean loved the soup but I didn’t, so I drank some of my broth, then we secretly switched bowls.
After supper we went upstairs and we took care of Siobhan while Mum and Dad went for a walk.
I listened to my SK Pades tape and then got into my pjs. [“I listened to my SK Pades tape”. Now, I am not even sure what I am referring to here. SK Pades is a variety show, put on by the junior class every year at my high school. It’s meant to bond the class together so that they can then face the difficult last year. But it’s for the JUNIOR class. I was only a freshman at the time of the trip to Ireland. So … what I am gathering is that I had snuck a tape recorder into the SK Pades of that year, the class two years ahead of me, taped the whole thing, and then hauled the tape around Ireland with me, listening to it like a lunatic. Please remember, too, that this was pre-Walkman. Or, if there were Walkmans in existence, I sure didn’t have one. So when I say “I listened to my SK Pades tape” what that means is that I had a little cassette recorder, and played the damn tape for all to hear, which also means that saying “I listened to the tape” is not quite correct. What it means is “I made everybody in my room at the B&B listen to the SK Pades tape with me.” I was clearly insane, and probably should have been in an institution.]
I was the only one who got into my pajamas.
God, I am so tired. I’m going to bed.
(thrrrills. he’s gonna talk the whole way)
i am going to have to leave work.
I’M SO SORRY! God, I was so MEAN!!!
The “thrrrrrrills” is particularly terrible.
i’m still laughing
we all knew that skpades tape BY HEART. you were like an entire E! Network, explaining the jokes, how they related to the people involved, why certain things were so scandalous, etc.
i am not going to be able to keep working i swear to god.
Tooooo funny! A little hard on yourself though don’t you think? Just the fact that as a freshman you were journaling kind of qualifies you as a “adult” (whatever that is) doesn’t it? Kinda sorta?
I guess when you get right down to it I wouldn’t be very qualified to answer that question anyway. Can’t say I’ve ever been accused of being “adult” or “mature” (Thank God!). Great read for that exact reason!
Mortifying.
Mark – No no no, no need to protect me from myself – that’s not the point of Diary Friday. It’s fun to be self-deprecating – that is what gives a catharsis to me and to others – nobody else posts their high school journals on the net. I do! I take the fall for everyone! Yeah, I am hard on myself – but mainly because (in this situation, anyway) it’s funny.
Oops – that “mortifying” comment was to Bren (my brother) … Yes, if I recall correctly – that was the SK Pades that had Trav and the Matts (M. and C.) and that whole talented crowd … But you know me. Sneaking my tape recorder everywhere I went!
And let us never ever forget:
dag after dag
goin’ for a long way i can say
dag after dag
goin’ for a long way i can saaaaayyyy
and when I wake up this morning
I know where I am going
Who’s got it all?
Neewwwww Yo-ork
Dag after dag
Come again??
I wonder if that’s on iTunes. It was a great great “punk” song.
I really love that you post these. I destroyed all my writing just after high-school (I hated my “writer’s voice”, then and now) I almost wish I hadn’t. I have managed to bury most of my memories from that time, it makes it hard to relate to my daughters sometimes.
My oldest daughter is 12 and this reminds me of how she talks. The clothes she thinks are cool, how she just tries so very (too) hard to be funny and clever, and she goes through spurts of describing things instead of calling them by their names. (metal zapper machine = metal detector is sooo something she would say!) Her awkwardness is painful to watch and impossible to help! You give me hope that she will eventually become an interesting and functioning adult. I was seriously starting to worry.
“Impossible to help” – God, yes!! I can only imagine!
It’s really amazing the difference between 12 and 16 – there was for me, anyway. I was HORRIBLE at 12! By 16 I had basically joined civilization.
hahahahaha~ I see you listed all the popular punks of that year…Blackie, Rick, Darryl..oh man i’m dying laughing! And the comment about Brendan!!! hahahahahahahahha poor little guy!
Mere – hahahahahahahahahahaha I know – Darryl Hall is “punk”??? What was I talking about??
And Rose~ I can totally relate to your description of your twelve year old. My twelve year old daughter is the same way!
Oh and did you write about the bee incident in your diary? :)
hahahahaha You know what, I don’t think so. It would have been way too “un-cool” to save that story for all time … I’ll have to check though. I even remember where that was – it was in Sligo!
Sheila, help. I don’t do a lot of international travel, and I need to know: Is this a common occurrence on flights to Ireland? What preventive measures should be taken by the passengers, if any?
Please advise.
Also, I hate you for reminding me that I ever in my LIFE said “thrrrrrills.” I had managed to block that out. I was happy that way.
hahahaha I know. Some things are best left buried forever.
Also, I love how I start out by saying I will miss “Mere and Betsy and Beth and Kate” and then 2 sentences later, Kate is inexplicably knocked off the list – and I will miss “Mere and Betsy and Beth”. What had she done in the intervening 20 seconds??
I just came over from Pioneer Woman and I love this post. We must be fairly close in age because I had one of those tape recorders too. I used to tape my little brother (he was 12 years younger than me) making animal sounds. Oh, how I wish I had those tapes now!
1) Chevy Chase? really?
2) the highlight for me:
“And she said in her Irish brogue, ‘No, we’ve got another half to go.’ I like listening to them talk.
3)I hope that the “grease bomb” was male.
4) I wish that I had kept a semi-coherent diary like this in my adolescent years. Instead, I just wrote esoteric poetry.
5) I’ve been reading your blog for a while now, and I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoy reading it on a daily basis. Thanks. Let shallow elitism reign!
Oh my God that is hilarious.
“I’ve never even been on a plane before and I am stocked up with gum.” That’s such a hilarious line to me, and such a great set-up for you forgetting to chew your gum later in the plane ride.
And I’m jumping on the “thrrrils” bandwagon. Totally gonna start using that word. So funny!