Fifteen Year Old Me

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Have I ever mentioned the fact that I've been a blogger since I was about six years old?

My first blog was called the Kitty Kat diaries. 
Jk. But that's definitely something I would have gone for back in '93.

Although in my day I didn't call myself a "blogger", I was actually a "diary'r."
And posts were written in a star covered Limited Too journal, rather than this fancy interweb site.
I will admit, the term "blogger" is much easier (and prettier) to use than "diary'r."
For whatever reason, that term always had slighty negative/disgusting connotations.
When you're sliding into first and you feel a little burst... diary'r. diary'r.

While back at my parents house last weekend I started flipping through some of my old "posts."
I landed on the year 2002. I was fifteen years old.
And because I'm one of those creepy people blessed/cursed with a very detailed memory,
 it felt like it was just yesterday I had written some of that shit down.
(Trust me, it was shit.) Fifteen year old Taylor was such a dbag.

But it's pretty funny to look back and read about what I
thought/worried/got excited about back then, as compared to now.

15 Year-Old-Me
"There is like nothing ever fun to do on the weekends..."
Yes there was, you just weren't invited. Remember those girls who always knew what was going on? They got the call, or the text, or the 411 about the party for the weekend. Yeah, that was never me.

"Why do all my friends have boyfriends and I don't..."
Because you wear XL Mens basektball shorts and Converse tennys to school every day.



"My mom only lets me use her cell phone on the weekends."
Thus the reason you never know what's going on.
But it's okay, she'll let you borrow it to  play "Snake" any time you want.


"Sometimes I just wish I wasn't in sports, then I would definitely be a partier."
No you wouldn't, don't kid yourself. 
 And that feeling you got in sports after a great game or practice is a feeling that no buzz will ever compare to.
#keepkidsoffdrugs
If you google "Homely Nebraska Kids" this is the first photo you'll find.

"I hope I get asked to Homecoming."
You won't. But life goes on. You'll get asked to much better things in the future.

"Why does everyone think I'm so stuck up?"
Who the hell cares.

"I wore my hair in french braids, and then she did the very next day. She totally copied me!"
I think my greatest cause of stress from the ages 7-17 revolved around who I thought was copying me.
It drove me nuts. Why was I such a loser? And why did I still wear french braids as a teenager?

"I just really wish he'd call me."
He won't. Nobody likes to call a cell phone with a mom's greeting on the voicemail.
(Yeah, that's totally why no one called me...)

"Forget college, I'm just going to move to California and get famous."
-said every girl from Norfolk. Or any other small town for that matter.


Yo, Greasy McGee, lay off the bronzer, you got enough natural teenage shine goin on.
But seriously, how cool is my Puka necklace?
Does anyone else feel like my neck looks huge and my cheeks look puffy?
 Perhaps I should have layed off the steroids, after all.

I wonder what 35 year old me would like to say to me now?
I hope it's something along the lines of...

"I told you we'd make it."

Yeah. That's definitely it.


Photobucket

35 comments:

  1. I went on a girls shopping trip with some family. My little cousin insisted on all of her clothing coming from Justice. I found myself saying, "Back in my day, we had Limited Too."

    Really? Who the hell do I think I am?

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  2. first of all you haven't changed! Second, the first picture is soooooooooooooo cute!!! Great post!
    www.LoseTheCushion.com

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  3. OMG i totally had sweats exactly like that in middle school sports! man, we thought we were all pretty cool with our sweats at the track meets. Wait, why was it that mine always were like 8 sizes too big (like yours) but somehow all the hot girls got on a list to get their actual size first and always looked awesome in them???

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  4. Oh pula necklaces. I was just thinking about this tonight! I'm going to look back and be like leggings and boots every day Erin? Who were you, Peter Pan? I took kept a diary'r. It had the initials of the boy I liked that week at the corner of each page. This might deserve a post.

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  5. So I just came across your blog about a week or so ago and I would just like to say.... you are HI-LAR-IOUS! I absolutely adore your post today, thanks for putting a smile on my face.

    Have a great day!

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  6. wow. you are brave to go back to your high school blog. I tried once but the angst overwhelmed me and the gel scrunched curls hurt my eyes.

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  7. I love reading your post, I think every girl can relate. You aren't afraid to put it out there and have an amazing sense of humor. This post was exactly all of that, thanks so much for sharing!!

    www.McKennaBleu.blogspot.com

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  8. Love this post, any previously dorky high school girl can relate perfectly (like me!). I was seriously in the awkward/ugly ducking phase until I was SEVENTEEN, so unfair!

    New follower btw! Love your blog.

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  9. Oh boy I remember the cell phone snake game and puka necklaces. Its so cool you have your old journals. I gotta find mine now to see what crazy things I was thinking.

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  10. Great post. But it makes me feel super old. Because I had a diary. Several actually but my first was iridescent and crinkly with a dinky little lock that I actually locked.

    And then there's the fact that I didn't own a cell phone until the year I graduated college. Hmm. Yeah, old. Thanks for the usual giggles.

    Katie

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  11. Haha, I love your last line. It makes me smile, I am sure hoping that is what is in store for me too!

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  12. Omg loved this! I wish I had diary'rs that I could go back and read. Ok, maybe I don't. I was too busy playing snake on my Nokia to write in a diary'r - don't judge I had my own cell phone as a Senior. Hollaaa at me! lol

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  13. your boobs look really nice in that last picture.

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  14. Dang I sucked as a teenager too. Glad I didn't write down all my teenaged angst. I was full of crap. I am glad that diary'r didn't catch on.

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  15. I totally had something good to say and then I read Raven's comment. And now I can't stop staring at your boobs.

    Your childhood photos are so great. I have got to get to scanning some of mine. You have inspired me.

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  16. I love this! I kept a diary too when I was younger! Maybe it's a common thing among bloggers! We just always wanted to write our lives out! I recently wrote a post about the goals I had listed on my myspace page! It was a lot of fun to look back and I love posts like this!

    Oh and diary'r is possibly the best word ever

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  17. Omg so funny. My diaries from high school say the same things!

    xo Emily

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  18. Your six year old pics is so cute! =)


    Brooke

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  19. Best post ever. I wish I wouldnt have thrown away those horrible diaries in the past. And Limited Too? Omg. I think I owned everything from that store.

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  20. oh man. i too was in love with kitty kat's back in the day. i still am but i refuse to get one because that one will lead to two which will lead to 18.

    um...15 year old you is hilars. i mean at the time, you were probably crying every night that no one was asking you out. sorry 15 year old taylor...it gets better.

    i too once found my diary that i would write in like once a year from the ages of 10-14. at 14, i wanted my period like no ones business.

    please feel free to read... http://sweetbef.blogspot.com/2011/04/flashback-friday_15.html

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  21. Haha! I actually think you were a cute kid!

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  22. Oh god... I do not want to find my diary from then. I know it is hiding somewhere... and I know it is terrifying lol

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  23. That was hilarious. I wish I could tell my 15 year old self a million things..like black corduroy overalls and matching Nike sneakers are awful. And scrunchies. And eating two breakfast pizzas in the cafeteria everyday. Yikes. Thank God I'm older!

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  24. as everyone else mentioned already; this post is hilarious. and i love it.

    my favorite is your 35year old advice to you now. its just perfect :)

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  25. I never got asked to homecoming either, it was the end of the world. Until I realized it wasn't.

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  26. This post is hilarious. I think we all owned a puka necklace at one point or another.

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  27. Oh my gosh. This post is awesome. Sometimes when I watch Sons of Anarchy and I get nervous, I put my hair in a french braid. And then I feel all Big Love like. And then I look at my husband at the other end of the couch and remember he was SOOOOO much cooler than me in high school and I immediately take my hair out of the french braid. Oh high school.... if only I didn't play with baby dolls in my back yard with my younger neighbors until I was a sophmore...

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  28. This is great - I think we are all a similar version of your "15 year old" self. The boy never called me back - clearly because I didn't have a cell phone - I had a clear (with the neon phone cords inside) house phone that my Mom always answered and asked 100000 questions to. I am pretty sure thats why no one called me.
    I miss but so do not miss these days.
    Fun to re-live it today.

    Erin
    www.cali-landchic.com

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  29. Four words. I fucking love you. K? BYE!

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  30. um hi, you are sure that you weren't reading my diary? This post strikes a little too close to home for comfort. Ps, I was def rocking my mom's cell phone as late as 2004 and it looked like it was from the 80s. How it fit in my purse was beyond me.

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  31. This is beyond amazing. I love going through my diary. It's so funny how dorky we all are at that age.

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  32. Love this! I wish I knew then what I know now :)

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  33. Such a funny post! I made myself a "time capsule" (aka. in a shoe box) in the fourth grade and put it in my parent's attic, and probably wrote something along the same lines...I'm too afraid to look!

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  34. Hahahaha. I have STACKS of diaries I filled with teenage angst. One is covered with purple fuzz and glitter. I want to dig through them now.


    The puka shells. If you even knew how much I wore mine. I thought I owned the school in that thing.

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