December 3, 1994, 6:26 PM – Beta Convention (16 years old)

Is it vain to love your own eyes? Mine are so wonderful, and it’s so great to have contact lenses so that other people can see them.

They’re a lovely shade of blue-grey, speckled almost but gradual enough to be a fuzzy conglomeration of color.

When I came to this convention I didn’t think I’d have much to write about. Turns out I have lots to say but no time to say it in!

Gotta go, but will return. -general assembly & dance time!

8:55- I’m back, & I’m not a happy camper. I was so excited before, but now I’m depressed. The thing w/Alex…I didn’t get to run for president…I didn’t win in Creative Writing. Barf! I must have next to no talent whatsoever. Occasionally I come off with a good line, but the rest of the time I must stink. (At least in timed writings!)

The reader doesn’t know about the thing w/Alex, does he? He’s a guy who kind of picked me up yesterday when I was depressed. I don’t feel like going into the details at this position of the earth’s rotation. Why? I’m just too depressed, bud.

So will I go to yonder dance? I haven’t any idea. I was going to go & wear my green pants outfit, but now I’m not too sure.

Want to know why I hate pictures? I look ugly when I smile.

I really do. I have a fat face and when I smile, all the fat pouches up and hides my eyes. I would have decently-accentuated cheekbones if I wasn’t so overweight.

And to think that this book was supposed to be a romantic tale of the life of a teenager. Tragedy sells, to be sure, but that’s not the kind of autobiography I wanted to write. Well, that’s life, and things never turn out exactly the way you expect them to. So I might go to that dance and actually have a good time. But most likely I’ll just get more depressed, because I’m not a very outgoing person. Oh well–going to try on my pants outfit now. —

9:13- I’m reverting back into the self-destructive hatred of Heather Aubrey of my sophomore year.

I hate myself! I was so rude to Alex, my writing sucks, Michael never really wanted to date me in the first place, I’m fat, I’m ugly, I’m stupid, and I cry over ignorant things. Like I’m crying now.

I’m such an awful person! No wonder poor Alex never tried to find me after last night.

My hideous ponch sticks out so far I look terrible in my beautiful pants outfit. My waist must be ten inches more around than it should be.

And I thought my creative writing piece was good. Just shows that I’m stuck up to boot.

I want to call Mom. I think I’ll try. No reason for her not to be home, unless she’s at work :(

Can’t. These phones don’t call long-distance.

My butt is so huge! And my flabby face dwarfs the only good thing about me (my eyes), so even they’re not beautiful.

I’m not going to eat dinner tonight. I need to lose weight. I’m so ugly. Maybe if I lose 15 pounds I’ll look good, but it will probably take more than that. (15 off would only put me at 135, and the average girl of my height should weigh 115. I’m lame, huh, weighing 150 now. That’s 35 pounds I have to lose, and of course, I can’t do it.

I’m so lazy, dumb, procrastinative, unmotivated, lethargic…I’d need a Thesaurus to cover all the facets of my horrible self.

It’s awful being this way and a perfectionist too. Being down on myself makes me even more unattractive than I already am.

Alex was such a nice guy! I’m such an idiot! He was caring enough to offer a depressed girl a place with him at dinner. (That would be me.) He was sweet enough to give someone a quarter to use the telescope out on the river.

He liked Star Wars!!

I’m such a fool!

I was consoling myself earlier with the thought that I’d never see him again, but that’s cruel.

I need to go to the dance and find him. Sitting up here rotting over self-hatred isn’t going to do me any good. I have to make amends for treating him the way I did!

11:27- I couldn’t find Alex. Plus, I had a horrible time at the dance, per my prediction. It’s probably my attitude. I expect to have a bad time, and it happens. Maybe someday I’ll be able to go to a dance and actually enjoy it.

I’d have to be outrageously thin though, so I could “shake it” without flopping my fatrolls. Yuck! Michael says he’ll teach me how to dance if I ever want to learn. I might take him up on that.

I was getting suicidal earlier. I hate that. Thought it stopped my sophomore year. But no, it started again this year. Great.

I think it’s George coming. Perhaps my bad thoughts will go away. I’m already feeling better because I took 2 Midols.

Malinda (one of my 3 roomies) brought a guy back to the room. Just like I brought Alex back here yesterday. That’s so sad.

I think I’ll go try to find him again, & then mingle w/ my friends. He should be leaving tonight.