Sifting through the diaries I’ve accumulated over the years, I found it amusing that some of my thoughts and aspirations before didn’t turn out to be as what I had thought then. Like the time I thought I was going to be a ballet dancer, or when I wanted to join the military or had a certain infatuation who I believed was destiny. Reading the entries made me realize only one thing: the naivete and tempestuousness of my youth. Ha!
I’ve selected some journal entries which I found amusing. I believe most of us journal writers have our own funny stories to tell, and I’m sharing mine.
“Mama said I can’t get a dog for Christmas. I hope it dos (sic) not mean I’m getting a dal (doll) this year.”
I wrote this entry when I was 4 or 5 years old. Mother never allowed any pets inside or even outside the house. She had acquired terrible skin allergies from fleas during the early years of her married life where she stayed with in-laws who kept dogs in the house. From then on, she vowed never to have any pet inside her own household, much to my extreme disappointment. So I enjoyed my youth with just my brother and my toys.
And because I was such a tomboy, I hated dolls. You know, the kind of dolls that had eyes that open and close? I found these toys freaky and never played with them even as my parents gave me these presents. Even then, I was too polite to say “no thanks”. That probably gave them the idea that I loved the dolls, or looking at it from another angle, they wanted me to get the idea that little girls played with dolls and not Matchbox cars.
More feminine now, do I like dolls better now? Nope, thank you.
“Papa says working in an airbase is a tough job. He cannot sleep when he is on the job or he might push the wrong button and kaboom!”
Papa worked inside a US military base in Wake Island, and in his correspondences he had always told us how hard it was working inside a base. He worked in a control room where the deadly buttons were, and if he so much as pressed the wrong button or key it would have been the end of life as we know it. That’s what the “kaboom” is for. I don’t remember if I already knew the word “explosion” then.
I couldn’t imagine how it must have been difficult for Papa to work on shifts and manage to stay upright and lucid on these shifts. I imagine him gulping cups of coffee one after the other in the effort to stay sane. No wonder Papa was a light sleeper.
“Papa won’t let me go to a party tomorrow. I’m 14 years old! I can handle myself!”
This entry puts a smile to my face every time I read it. When kids hit their teens they think they know everything, and this entry captures it.
I learned to party as soon as I hit 13. I wasn’t into the fast lane, but just the clean dance-till-you-drop kind of thing. Blame it on Madonna for her pop songs. I didn’t learn to drink alcohol until I reached college. But at this age, I felt like I can do anything and remain safe. It was my period of independence. Mother hated it, I reveled in it.
“I hope he didn’t see me look at him! Embarrassing ever!”
Yeah, another funny phase in my teen years—high school crushes. It’s the time when you have crush on the coolest and cutest guy in school. I fell for that phase.
As one gets older, being cutest isn’t necessarily a good thing as being smart enough to make a living. As for the cute guys in high school, they realize that a good-looking face won’t easily capture a woman’s heart if they don’t feed their brain (and maybe pockets) real soon. Remaining in the high school past won’t get them anywhere.
That’s a hard fact, but that’s how the cookie crumbles.
“Teacher said I should lose more weight to dance. Why can’t I be a heavy ballet dancer AND dance?”
Why on earth did I ever thought of dancing in the first place? Because I really love to dance and sing (not in that particular order). I hated ballet before, but my ever loving Mom thought it was a good thing for me to learn the discipline so I took a shot at it until I caught the bug. When I decided to dance seriously, that’s when I began to diet in the effort to lose excess weight and lose the boobs.
Glad I snapped out of that one.
“Away from home at last! I will learn to clean, do laundry and cook. My life will be just like ‘A Different World’”.
I loved Lisa Bonet’s “A Different World”. She was Bill Cosby’s TV daughter in “The Cosbys”, and after the series ended Bonet went solo to have her own TV show. It was her experience as a college student, away from her family and in a big university.
Studying away from home was my big ticket to independence. I came out of the big shell my mother used to shield me and my brother from the world. It was a whole new world for me. I was reeling with excitement.
My whole college experience was a big turning point in my life. Life wasn’t exactly like Bonet’s character, but just the same I had all the joys, drama and pains of any regular college student. Did I learn how to do my laundry? Yes, a little. Cook? Maybe. Clean? Better now that I have my own family. But the learning was the best. I learned to live on my own.
“I took a 12 hour trip from Baguio to Manila just to get my allowance.”
An inkling of my tempestuous youth? I was a freshman when Mt. Pinatubo erupted. The aftermath made the usual 6-hour trip to Manila twice longer. Why did I take the arduous trip back? Getting my allowance was just an excuse to watch the latest movie in Manila. Hahaha.
“Flying home tomorrow in a plane! Mother doesn’t even know I am. If the plane crashes, mother will kill me!”
I would always tell my mother, no matter what, what I would be doing or where I would be going for the week. There weren’t any cell phones then, so calling long distance was my lifeline to home.
For this particular trip, she knew I was coming home by ship after competing in a swimming event. Upon the prodding of a good friend, I was convinced to ride home in a C-130 plane. And since there wasn’t a telephone in sight and I thought it was a good adventure for me, I grabbed the chance, refunded my ship fare and rode the military plane! Woohoo!
Despite my excitement, I was worried that the something might happen to the plane and my dear mother would never know what the hell happened to me. The plane was experiencing mild turbulence and the plane was loaded with military men who hopped on board with us. I remember praying to God: “Oh please Jesus, don’t let this plane crash or my mother will never know what happened to me.” Besides a bumpy ride, I was safe.
“Could this guy be another jerk?”
Who likes a jerk? Nobody does. And getting older, we want to be as far away from jerks as much as we can. I wasn’t any exception.
“Tomorrow I’m marrying the guy who I thought was a jerk!”
Luckily, the last guy I met was a guy I knew way back in high school. I thought he was just another one of those guys who was a jerk. He wasn’t, so I married him. We’re still married, and life has been great.
Have you tried checking your journal for funny entries?
Keep on writing!