Ohhh, dear Peter, you're mediocre but I love you...

I was recently going through a stack of boxes searching for a particular Special Pan, my designated Cuban Flan Pan. Given my knack for organization, I found it right where anyone in their right mind would have put it…in the same box with an old set of markers (last used when I was approximately age 12) along with enough unopened orca-sized maxi pads to give the Hoover Dam a day off . Given my knack for labeling boxes only on their tops and my other knack for then stacking them on top of each other, (I’m knacky, what can I say) I had to go through several boxes before I found what I was looking for. This explains how I stumbled upon the long forgotten box filled with a 15-year-old Ziggy doll collection and an anthology of my old journals, some of which date back to 1989! It was all there…from the heartbreak of not being allowed to shave my legs right through to the torture of being, like, so…totally misunderstood! Imagine my glee upon uncovering this pubescent treasure! I was happier than a gonococcus setting up shop in a virgin vagina!

And thus, I welcome you to the first installment of Teenage Turmoil. Join me as I microdissect the hormonally charged, emotionally misguided, synaptic misfirings that I managed to jot down using barely legible pink ink and deliberately bubbly letters. Today, we shall look back on my 13 year old feelings regarding sex and a boy named Peter…

March 10, 1991

Dear Diary -

Just last Friday was Miss Legs For Miles’ birthday sleepover party and since we stayed up til 1:30 AM gossiping and listening to music, I learned a lot of things that night. One thing is Miss LFM likes this one kid named Kevin. He’s kind of perverted and he’s not all that cute but he sort of likes her – at least we think he does! I didn’t know until that night and it was kind of a surprise. Anyways, more on Kevin later.

Here we learn that apparently Miss Legs For Miles (who, incidentally, I am still very close friends with) (and who incidentally DOES have killer legs) (and who I, incidentally, resent slightly for that to this day) and I didn’t have very high standards. Kind of perverted?? Not that cute?? I mean, honestly, sounds like he could have picked his nose and eaten his boogers out by the tetherball courts and we still would have dug him.

I also found out some disgusting news about Tina and Mandy. Heidi was telling us that she went over to one of their houses and they were talking about they had had sex before! That is really gross. Miss LFM and I promised Heidi we wouldn’t say anything to them.

Ahh…it is here that we see the manifestations of my parents’ many chit chats about the importance of abstinence. (And by “chit chats” I mean “stern, scary ditto presentations with schematics.”) Considering the fact that not a day passed by that I wasn’t reminded of the fiery pits of hell that awaited me should I engage in the unforgivable act of premarital sex, I pretty much thought a penis was akin to Satan with one eye. I got over that a few short years later. Nevertheless, I must say, if I ever have a daughter, I think I will start teaching her all about Satan The Firebreathing Penis when she’s about three.

Ok, now I guess I could get back to Kevin now. Kevin is this boy who hangs around with this other boy named Peter. Peter is also perverted and slightly immature but he likes me.

Gosh. Doesn’t he sound dreamy? Sigh…

In fact he went out with Liz only to get closer to me.

Ok. We should clarify something right here. “Going Out” when we were in middle school meant: exchanging sidelong glances at each other in Ms. Kheuler’s class, hanging out by each others’ lockers during the lunch break, and generally just standing around in awkward silence, kicking pebbles and staring at everyone but each other. Sometimes the guy in the relationship would let the girl wear his jacket…you know, so that all the other boy puppies would know that this particular tree had been peed on. So, in other words, Peter let Liz wear his jacket for a while. They TOTALLY dated. It was serious.

He’s always staring at me in English, Math and Social Studies, the three classes I have with him. He’s not really that cute but he’s not terribly ugly. He’s got really cute blue green eyes.

I love this part. Again, aiming low! He’s SO “not terribly ugly” that I haven’t even looked at him long enough to know his true eye color. I’d actually written "blue" and then gone in later with a green pen and written “green” over it!

He’s told Lydia that he likes me. I like him but I don’t want to show it but I do in a way. I don’t because I’m always telling Miss LFM that he’s a jerk and that I can’t stand him. The reason why I sort of do want to show it is because Miss LFM told him that I don’t care about him liking me when he asked what I think of him. And I think that might ruin how he likes me!! What should I do?

Oh, the tortuous rapture that is teenage love! First, I didn’t really like him because he wasn’t “really that cute”…but then he beamed his baby blues greens over at me in English class and he, like, TOTALLY swept me off my feet. Dude, I’m half proud of the fact that I wasn’t all about looks, but half disappointed that I was that easy to win over at the unripened age of 13. (This noxious combination will prove to be to my detriment in future dating fiascos.)

Stay tuned for next week’s installment to see if I get to wear this guy’s jacket "go out" with this guy.