Dear Diary

I used to keep journals before I decided to share my Crazy with the world. Strangely, if someone were to delve into these journals without my permission, like my little brother did to the journal I kept while in Europe and then went to my mom for clarification about what exactly "'shrooms" were, I'd be pretty fuckin' pissed.

I suppose that's because I allowed myself to be extra dorktastic in my journals. I'm FAR less dorktastic here than I am in my private scribblings. You might be thinking, "Um, Danielle, that's a mathematical impossibility." Ah, but you have not read my diaries, my friend.

My first diary was this Hello Kitty thing. It had a pink section, a yellow section, and a blue section. It also had a lock, which was easily picked by my older brother with a bobby pin. I bought it when I was 10 on the boardwalk in Sea Isle City down the Jersey Shore during the Vacation from Hell. I wish I still had it. I hung onto it for a very long while, but I think it found its way into the trash when my mother moved, like a lot of my old personal belongings.

I had this habit of starting a diary/journal and writing religiously in it, then letting it go for months on end. When I went back to it, I would find myself dissatisified and decide that I was "no longer there" in my life, and so I should make a "fresh start." You can imagine how many incomplete journals I have. Actually, ALL of them are incomple.

There's the Hello Kitty diary. And then blue diary, which is followed by my High School diary, which then became my college diary...yeah, that one actually did carry over. Except, I was keeping about 3 different diaries during college. I don't know why. One of them features entries with multi-colored ink. Yeah. But when you're sitting desk in the lobby of your dorm from 12 a.m. to 4 a.m. as your workstudy job, you try to find ways to pass the time...

The high school/college diary features my travels through Europe during my semester abroad. This is the one my little brother read through almost completely before showing it to my mom and grilling her about illegal drugs and vibrators. Just imagine that phone call from my mother. "Twerp...Eric found your journal - " "WHICH ONE?!?!"

I started another journal when I moved to L.A. It's HUGE. It must weight 3 pounds. Kinda bulky. I really did try to write in it religiously but found it too cumbersome to carry around, so I started writing in this red notebook. I would tear out the pages and file them into the big book. Except, when I wrote in the red notebook, I only wrote in pencil. YEAH.

Before I left L.A., my PA gave me this super-cute diary with the Eiffel Tower on it, which was very thoughtful of her. I waited until I left that city to start writing in it. You know, the whole "fresh start" thing. I wrote in it very irregularly...sometimes while I was at a temp job. I think the last entry had something to do with September 11th.

For a long time I wasn't writing in anything, and then I went back to Europe with Kimberly and found this awesome little tome at some random store in Amsterdam. I started writing in it right away and then didn't touch it until almost two months later, after I had settled into my apartment with Kelly. This is the journal I found this weekend when I was reorganizing my bedroom. Stuck in the apartment due to inclement weather and about to bounce off the walls like a ping-pong due to my 5 cups of coffee at brunch, there was nothing TO do but overhaul my room.

I took a minute to briefly read through it, and there are a few gems I'd like to share with you. Not because I'm trying to demonstrate how deeply tragic I fancied myself, but rather to prove that, yes, there is a level to my dorktasticness previously never revealed. I imagine this will be like when Geraldo Rivera opened up Al Capone's vault for some of you. :)

From the first entry, dated August 1, 2002, referring to returning to the 12th century castle in which I lived during my semester abroad in 1997:

"I'm hoping that I leave this time with more peace of mind. I'm hoping that I run into myself from 5 years ago and that whoever [sic] I was back then can point me in the right direction and give me the strength and clarity of vision I will need to become everything I want to be in NYC."

DORKTASTIC FACTOR: On a scale of 1-10, I would say 8. I know that's a high rating for the first example, but the phrase "clarity of vision" just ratchets it right up there!

Also from 8/1, after having visited the castle:

"I worry about finding the energy to kick ass in NYC. I know I can do well, but I have no idea at what."

DORKTASTIC FACTOR: Eh...4. I think everybody worries similarly before a big change. I still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up!

From September 29, 2002, after I moved to New York, referring to feeling overwhelmed:

"It's like I'm standing still and all these things are spinning madly around me. All I have to do is reach out and grab one and make it my own. But there are so many doubts, fears, and insecurities that are keeping my arms glued to my sides. So I just stand still because it's the safest thing in my world to do, even though it takes such a toll on me."

DORKTASTIC FACTOR: 8.5. Possibly the cheesiest metaphor ever committed to paper. And "madly?" Who says that? The feeling was real, though, which keeps that entry from achieving a perfect 10.

Same entry:

"It's upsetting and I'm upset that I'm upset."

DORKTASTIC FACTOR: 9. I do own a thesaurus, you know. I guess I was trying to prove that I was, I don't know, UPSET or something.

From October 27, 2002, and the only excuse I can offer up for this entry is that I must have been HIGH:

"I feel so far apart from everything in this life. I'm detached. I'm isolated. I'm an island on this island. If only I could make contact with someone; reign myself in. Stop living inside myself."

DORKTASTIC FACTOR: Oh, come ON. This HAS to be a 10! "I'm an island on this island." Ugh.

There's another entry after that, the last one, but it's too personal to poke fun at here, though it IS pretty ridiculous. I made a notation on it at a later date, "Oh, I have NO idea what the hell THAT'S all about!"

So, there you have it. I'm way dorkier in private than in TwerpsWorld. Why I need you to know that is beyond me. I guess I just thought it would be funny. And I'm glad I can look back on those truly difficult moments in my life and laugh now. As dorktastic as it was, it was real to me then. I'm so grateful to be in a place now where I can laugh at myself. I feel like that's really important.