Dear Diary: I Pick Spy

Please tell me you remember the movie Harriet The Spy. That movie replaced my obsession with Greece and while I’m sure my mom was grateful for the Go Greece Lightning, break, I don’t think it lasted long. I have a nasty habit of wearing stuff out ….

My old roommate’s boyfriend will tell you how much he hated listening to Mariah Carey’s Obsessed over and over again. Can’t help it guys, I like what I like until I don’t like it anymore. 

This Dear Diary series came about to help me find out who I was as an adult, by reading the secrets I kept safe from my past. So far it’s been refreshing to know I haven’t changed very much at all, I do know who I am and can become more refined as I grow. Kinda like fine wine, better with age ;).

dusty wine bottles
Photo by Marco Mornati

Dear Diary Recap: I want to be sexy like Sandy (still haven’t figured out how I knew what the word sexy meant at 8-years-old!) and I have the hugest crush on Mr. Sheffield from The Nanny (the OG of silver foxes) and just discovered the show Blue’s Clues.

How could life get any better? Let’s find out.

Dear Diary: I Pick Spy

February 4th, 1998
I love 
Homeward Bound!
and the Dogs
and the Cats!

I am a Musketeer!

February 8 1998
I am Meg and I 
love hercules.

I love his 
flying horse!

February 98
In Willy Wonka
and the chocolate factory
and I feel bad for
the old man that 
is in
Willy Wonka
and the chocolate factory


I Love Kevin!

It’s officially official. We’ve made it through my ENTIRE diary. My purple secret keeper is out of pages and we can move on to other works of art…

Dear Diary Series Diary
So long, farewell.

Should we dip into my high school notes or my middle school slam book? You’re going to have to make it back in two weeks to see what I decide.

TWO WEEKS? Yes, the Dear Diary series is going to every other week to make room for a few other topics I have in mind. Until then, see you on social media.

Dear Diary Series Signature - Love Shannon

PS: I have no idea who Kevin is …. but is it weird I did end up dating a Kevin? He was the biggest loser. I finally broke up with him after he told me I was immature… while standing in my apartment ( I was 18) and getting ready to go home (to his Dad’s house, at age 23). See ya later sucker!

Dear Diary: Party Like It’s 1998

My husband has recently rebooted our old desktop so he could clean it out and trash it, so we could finally stop lugging it around each time we move. What we (maybe mostly me) forgot was how many memories it was keeping safe for us. 

Over 20,000 photos to be semi-exact and each photo sent a small burst of warm light straight to my heart that I didn’t know I needed. Have you ever had a wake up call that knocked you on your ass and made you happy cry at the same time?

I needed to be reminded of the early stages of love with my then boyfriend, now husband. A lot of time and effort has been spent running from the memories of my early twenties.

Matt and Shannon at Jax Beach 2008
Remember when it was our ‘thing’ to go out to the beach at night and walk? I pushed away from you for a long time, this picture is more than 1,000 words.

A slew of pain and bad choices cramp age 18 through 25, so I’ve forgotten about the magic of our firsts.  

And it’s because, fast forward eight years and life has become more difficult. The monthly bills are more expensive, pressure of career choice weighs heavy on shoulders and the dinosaur-old-age trouble with money rears its ugly head more regularly. 

Randol family & Shannon
That one time I flew out to California as your ‘friend’ and met your entire family. Our first trip together, three months after meeting for the first time and my first trip out west.
New Year's Eve 2008
I needed a dress and was nervous about going to a fancy and very upscale restaurant with you and your dad for New Year’s Eve in 2008. We got back from the mall and my dress still had the ink tag on the side, we only had an hour to get ready and there was no way we could make it back to Wet Seal to remove the security device. I started to worry and get upset that my lack of nice clothing was going to ruin the night. You found a hand saw and carefully removed the ink tag while ignoring my frantic reasons on why I wasn’t going to be able to go and reassured me everything was going to be fine and it was, our first New Year’s Eve together was going to be our first of many.

In last week’s Dear Diary entry, never forgetting to dream was the central topic and it applies again to this week’s diary post. My husband and I have forgotten to dream, together. Instead, we’ve been consumed with money quarrels that has put us in separate deep, dark graves and it’s lonely down there.

St. Augustine Ghost Tours group photo 2008
It was your birthday and you were far away from home, so we took you to St. Augustine and did a ghost tour. It was only 2008, but still cheesy. Don’t forget to wear your sticker, otherwise you might be confused for a ghost!

So enough is enough. It’s time to appreciate all of the trial and tribulations of life because it’s the only one you’ve got. 

This is Dear Diary: Party Like It’s 1998. We’ve finally made it in to the new year.

Jan. 2nd 98',
I wish
I was
sexy like 
I Love Danny!

Jan 9, 98
Remember the whale
that I got from GrandmaR

I love Grandma R!

Jan. 14 98
I love the cute guy 
on Mrs. Fine.
not Niles
Mrs. Shepfield!

Jan. 18, 98
I love Camp Nowhere
Bluse's Cluse
JaberJaw and Clifford!

January 30th, 1998
I am a Spy!!

How does a EIGHT YEAR OLD know the word sexy? Lawd help me if I ever have a little girl!

Also, how cute is it that I keep referring to The Nanny as Mrs. Fine. Did you ever watch that show? Mr. Sheffield is the OG of silver foxes, amiright?!

Jabberjaw was an old 30 minute television show which aired on Saturday mornings and featured a great white shark who continually saved the underwater sea community.

What, you don’t remember it? Neither did I, Google does wonders, so here’s a refresher clip for you, too.

Saturday mornings and the WB hold most of my favorite childhood memories. What were your favorite television shows growing up? Was anyone else a fan of Ghost Writers, Ahh! Real Monsters or Hey Arnold? Oh, oh! What about Arthur?

Dear Diary Series Signature - Love Shannon

PS: I’m a spy because the movie Harriet The Spy had entered my VHS rotation and immediately became my number one movie. I was obsessed with learning how to be just like her. SO much so, many mornings and night were spent behind a couch spying on the family. #whoops




Dear Diary: I love that funny guy

At eight years old I noticed not everyone lived the same way and wanted to make a difference in the lives of those less fortunate. Reading that last entry Dear Diary: I live in Walden, made me happily pause to re-read what I had wrote 20 years ago.

This Dear Dairy experiment started in hopes to figure out who I was as an adult by reading the diary entries of my past. It may be too soon to tell and I don’t want to jinx it, but I think it might be working. 

Have I always known exactly who I wanted to be? Maybe I just needed to force myself to remember. 

Dear Diary: I love that funny guy … 

December 23, 1997
I love that adein sanders!

December 25, 97
Today I saw the real
Santa Claues on T.V.
Now I know there is a
Santa Claues in the world. 
tell my children that.

December 26, 1997

December 29, 1997 
Rember the claddaugh neclies 
to the symbol, hart symbol of love, hands - symbol of friendship
crown - symbol of loyalty. It was from Grandpa and Grandma S!

December 29, 97
On grease I am Sandy and I love Danny! <3

December 30, 1997 
Rember I can fly in my dreams. 
Those are the best <3

Happy Gilmore had probably just came out and it wasn’t his one liners that stole my heart, it was the saving grandma’s house story line.

I’ll tell ya what I want, what I really really want… and I wanted to be Scary Spice. She was and remains to be, my favorite Spice Girl. Sorry in advance for getting the song stuck in your head. 

Giving bunny ears to Scary Spice at Madam Tussauds Wax Museum in New York City. 

Did you walk to the gas station after school every day to buy a Spice Girls sucker, with high hopes you’d get the final sticker you needed to complete your collection? #guilty

Everyone loves Danny Zuko, enough said.

Dreaming is important, both figuratively and literally. As time has passed, I’ve forgotten to dream about possibilities of the future. Life can be hard, but it’s important to keep on dreaming. Don’t allow bumps in the road to determine your overall goal.

Dear Diary Series Signature - Love Shannon

PS: What happened to Sporty Spice?

PSS: RIP to armband tattoos.


Dear Diary: I Live in Walden

The first big move has happened. I no longer attend Wolcott Street School in Le Roy, New York. Corn fields do not elongate my backyard or catch my model rockets durning the summer. We livin’ in the big city now.

Welcome to LeRoy, New York.

[insert car brakes screeching, records skipping or nails on a chalk board]

Walden wasn’t big city living, it was bigger small town living compared to LeRoy. Another bonus was my bus ride, I wouldn’t be stuck on an hour long route. Walden is also where my Mom achieved Mayor status. 

Well, not actually the Mayor but if she would’ve ran for Mayor in the town of Walden, she could’ve won by a landslide. Tu Madre knew everyone in town and there was no such thing as a quick run-in to the grocery store with her, she’d get stopped two or three times to chat. 

Walden 2
Welcome to Walden, New York. Look at all those houses!

My uncle (her brother) used to ask if she wrist cramps for all her pageant waving. I moved out of Walden four years later and have only been back once, same goes for LeRoy. It would be interesting to go back, even better with my Orange County husband. He thought Florida was country …. 

Something interesting has happened since beginning this odd journey down memory lane. The narrative inside my head has began to change. Instead of constant self-doubt, a thin sliver of confidence has cracked my inner voice and it’s getting louder. 

But let’s not jinx it. 

Dear Diary: December 1997

December 19, 1997
rember Tammie's family. 

December 20, 1997
My first sleepover in Walden. 
You know taly Ho in Midlda and the girls seid it to.

December 21, 1997
I love Mrs. Clements the hamster!!
And Pepper!! <3

December 22, 1997
I love Grampa in heven!!! <3

December 22, 97
I like that guy on smooky mouton christmas!

December 20
I feel bad for poor people maybe
one day I will make a sand of food and poor people can eat
and I would give some of my clothing for them!
Maybe when I grow up I will do that if I rember!!   

Yeah, so I named our family hamster after my Kindergarten teacher and then told said teacher I had named a rodent after her …

There is no better flattery than a 7 year old loving you so much they want to name their pet after you, at least here’s to hoping that’s what she thought.

The last diary entry gave me a whole lotta pause. It’s incredible how small children can have such huge (greater than themselves) thoughts.

Of course there’s no memory of what prompted this post, but little Shannon would be pleased to know I beelined for nonprofit work after college and haven’t stopped helping those who can’t help themselves.

Dear Diary Series Signature - Love Shannon

PS: Smokey Mountain Christmas, who?

PSS: ‘I love Grandpa in heaven,’ makes me a little uncomfortable, almost so much that I wasn’t going to acknowledge its existence. Grandpa in heaven was hardly mentioned after my Dad’s dad passed and is never talked about now.

It freaks me out that this person (who I only knew for 6 years) gave my own Pops life and has been erased from conversations. Death is weird and everyone copes the best they can.

Dear Diary: December 1997 III

It’s been tough trying to get through December, mostly because my munchkin-self has designated each diary slot for remembering every damn little thought she had. Tired yet? I kinda am. 

Quick recap: Santa is real. Bus crush Neil is gone and Alissa is too. I love everything that breathes and want to remember loving them. My new crush is some dude named Andrew (he’s in my class) and red pen is my writing utensil of choice. It’s highly probable I picked red because of its correlation with Christmas and clueless to what red ink would mean to me in the future. #damnyoucollege

Here is December 1997 part III.

December 17, 97
last night
I saw my
magic hourse!

December 17, 97
I lik
Ashly C, and Ashley S, they
are my friends. 

December 17, 97
that guy 
that kissed Wendy 
he is cute
in Walden Elemtuhrey school!!

December, 18, 97
Today Santa
wrote back to me
to me!

December 17, 97
rember all
the stuff

rember elephant,
seal, and

December 18, 97
I Love
the red
Lion's the

I love lions

I love
and cartoon

December 18, 97
I like 
Jim Caray

rember my cross from
Grandam to

I love to sing
I love to sing

rember my
little Mermaid

december 19, 97
Grandpa is
an elf

I want to be an elf!

I love Ducks

I love Santa's rain

December 19, 97
This old guy
I, feel

this old guy
looks like he is
a thef! 

You know 
those little
sand curturs
I wish I 
had one it
was on green
I love them!

December 19, 97
Ashly C.
is my friend

Ashly S
is o.k.

The obsessive need to remember everything came after my first experience with death and first big move. I’m sure I could pay a shrink a large amount of money to sort through those issues, but I’ll save that for another day and dollar.

On a positive note, I don’t obsessively write down everything I want to remember. Then again, there are a lot of parts in my life that I’d rather not remember and the list of people and things I love has shrank to almost zero.

I struggle with loneliness and stressing about where I belong on a daily basis. My inner judge tells me I don’t belong, or that I’m not good enough. It’s an inner dialog that’s become poisonous. It stops be from moving forward, both in professional and personal aspects.

Will I ever learn to stop being so hard on myself? How do I put up blinders to keep out the toxic inner voice while nurturing the other healthy half? Is it possible to function with anger and keep stepping forward in a healthy manner?

Is there a such thing as too much empathy, because damn me and my sensitivity to old people hanging out by themselves! This no longer bothers me though, a decade as a server at an old country restaurant will cure you of old ‘cute old people’ syndrome. There’s a lot of crusty croutons out there.

The sudden shift between lonely old man to thief tells me one thing: the world ‘homeless’ wasn’t in my vocabulary. How else does a sweet old man go from lonely to thief based off looks?

Some days I wish I could go back to a world where I didn’t know any evil.

Dear Diary Series Signature - Love Shannon

PS: I know exactly who Ashley S. and Ashely C. were, brb – gunna go find them on Facebook and see what they’ve been doing all these years later.

PSS: No idea what red and/or green lions show means, or who the Wendy and the cute kid who kissed her are either. I didn’t even know I knew someone named Wendy aside from Casper’s BFF.

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Dear Diary Series: December 1997 II

This Dear Diary series should get renamed to I Love [ fill in the blank] series instead. If love had a max fill line, my cup runneth over. To be honest all the love is a bit embarrassing, but if my homework was to be uncomfortable than I’d get an A+ because this week’s entry is way worse!

Quick recap: I am magic and my family is possibly magic, too. The verdict is still out on Pops but I’m convinced his love is magic (according to the drawing). I think bus crush Neil has been left in the dust of “loves lost” and have moved on to someone named Andrew. 

There’s a real possibility I try to find my yearbooks so we have some faces to go with names, but my lawyer hasn’t gotten back to me. 

JK. Lawyer is code name for conscience. 

Here is December 1997 part II.

December 11, 97

December 12, 97
I love
Scooby Doo!

December 12, 97
I love Frosty the

December 12, 97
I love

December 12, 97
and I 
the song 
of Frosty!

December 12, 97
We made a Snowman   now
we can name 
it Frosty the

December 12, 97
I wish
Frosty would
come to 

December 12, 97
I wish
Santa could
play to
with us!

December 12, 97
I am going 
to have my Diarys for

December 12, 97
I will have
my Dairy keys
for ever!

December 12 97
on homealone 
that guy
I love him

December 12, 97
On home alone
that old guy
I love him

December 14, 97
I am pen pals with my teacher and friends

December 19, 97

December 12, 97
I got this
Diary on my

December 12, 97
I got this
Diary from my
Grandma S. 

December 12, 97
On home alone this old giy is nice!!
L <3

December 13, 97
My family is
pepper, Kelly, James,
Mom, Dad. 

December 13, 97
I love

December 13, 97
I love Kelly

December 13, 97
I love James

December, 13, 97
I love Mom

December 13, 97
I love Dad

December 13, 97
And I love

December 13, 97
James is

December 14, 97
I love 

December 16, 97
name my eagle 

December 16, 97
I like 
70s dance

I love couisen
it on the adam's

I love Fester

I love Bascket

I love pepper

I love all sorts of

Are you as exhausted as I am by reading all of those I Love Yous?

I sound a little manic, desperately writing down every single piece of information possible about who I love so I won’t forget. Why was I so worried about forgetting?

This phase grew from writing it down on paper to taking photos. An entire afternoon during 5th grade was spent lining up every possession I owned so each item could be photographed. An elephant never forgets, so neither should I. 

It’s entirely possible this obsessive need to remember came after my grandpa died and learned about death for the first time at  six years old. 

I’m happy to announce the anxiety driven panic has been slowly stiffened over the years, but can still rear its head when seemingly fit. 

Can we talk about the old guy from Home Alone? You know who I’m talking about, right? Shoveled snow while mean muggin and creepy music played? 

Old Man Marley ends up saving Kevin at the end and isn’t as scary as once believed. Underrated characters who turn out to be the hero in the end are my favorite. 

Oh yeah, and I’m positive my 8-year-old self would be pleased to know this diary has lasted forever. 

But I hate to tell ya kid, those keys have been long gone.

[NEXT] Oh, Santa. How I believed in your magic for far too long. I was in middle school when a friend started to pick on me about believing. I ended it the only way I knew how,

“Say Santa is real or I won’t give you your Christmas gift!” 

Like most little kids who like getting gifts, she complied. Pretty sure that was the extent of my bullying. I bullied for Santa’s sake.

If you’d like to dig up some of your old dirt and have it featured on the Dear Diary series, email it to 

Dear Diary Series Signature - Love Shannon

PS: I think my siblings would be pleased to know I loved them so much I wrote it down a zillion times.

PSS: My spelling errors are phonetic enough that spellcheck tries to correct them to the proper spelling for me every time. 

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Dear Diary December 1997

I have a confession. I flipped through a couple of the pages in my next diary and had a quick thought I should end this NOW. Guys, it’s SUPER embarrassing. It starts somewhere in the early middle school years. Ya know, when it’s cool to write your name with your crushes last name…

I’m going to have to start drinking while I write these; liquid courage. 

Quick recap: Still no Neil or Alissa. It has snowed a bunch which isn’t riveting because it’s Buffalo. It snows all the time. No joke, had a birthday party in May and snow started to dust the ground while we swung at the piñata. My diary signature ‘Love Shannon’ has disappeared, probably because it wasn’t cool anymore. 

Oh yeah, and my family has three bat stories. 

Here is December 1997.

December 9, 97
is cool!!!!!

December 10, night 97
I have to be magic
Because I took plastic. A 
little piece of plastic,
and put it on my finger 
and it fell on my elbow
because My finger was 
sticky and the plastic 
stick to me and not
just my elbow!

December 10, 97, night
Even Kelly, James, MoM are magic,
But I don't know
if DaD is But,
if are
then his is <3

December 11, 97

December 11, 97
I Love
Andrew in
my class
Walden Elementary school!!!

December 12, 97
I love
Scooby Doo!

[Dear Diary] My name is Super Nerd and I’m highly embarrassing.
Jesus, I’m going to have to start digging out my old yearbooks. Andrew, if you’re out there and not too terribly shy, show your face! I’d like you to do this willingly so I don’t get sued if I flash your picture.

Could I even get sued for revealing the face of my 4th grade crush? There’s gotta be a statue of limitations already in the books regarding 15 year old crushes.

Oh, and I’m magic. Just in case you somehow missed it up there in the big red letters.

This little girl doesn’t even know what magic is yet. She still thinks the only magic left in the world surrounds Santa, the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny (swear I saw him, once. He was creeping outside my bedroom door one Easter. He KNEW I was waiting up for him to hop in and was fake sleeping.).

Just you wait little girl. A whole world of magical mischief is only a few years away from rocking your bookshelf. You’ll spend many nights at the midnight book releases AND movie premieres. Just. You. Wait.

Not going to attempt to explain the plastic on my elbow rant up there. I was eight, give me a break.

Love Shannon

PS: Who didn’t love Scooby Doo?

PSS: It took until high school to figure out Shaggy and Scooby were a couple of stoners.

PSSS: I wonder if my siblings ever knew I thought they were magic.


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Dear Diary November 1997

It’s 1997 and so far, there isn’t one damn mention of Y2K, nothing about my collection of Beanie Babies, or my want of an Easy Bake Oven that Santa forgot to bring two years in a row! What the hell?

This purple plastered Garfield diary is making it rounds, so have faith. All the goods must be yet to come.  

Quick recap: No sign of bus crush Neil or Best friend Alissa. I haven’t moved closer to The Big Apple yet, because I remember it happening after Christmas break. My TV crush is Danny and have discovered the holy grail movie, Grease. 

Here is November 1997. 

Nov. 11th 1997
Today Me Kelly, James rebilt
the Fire pit
and even we,
put the wood back.

Nov. 12 1997
every Day
I hug Mrs. Pike
I love her Because
she is nice, Buitful,
cool, loving, and caring.
Mrs. Pike is the
Best teach in the 
whole wide world.

Nov. 12th 1997
<3 Mrs. Pike <3

Nov. 12th 1997
Today it is 
snowing out.

Nov. 16th, 97
Today it just
snowed again and
even depper!
I am going to make a
snowman. Cool!

[Dear Diary] It looks like I’ve graduated from pencil to red pen, cheers!
There I go again, capitalizing the ‘b’ in best, must’ve had a really strong inclination best was important as a child and should ALWAYS be emphasized.

Pretty sure depper is deeper, although for a short second I thought it might be Pepper – our first family dog. But that didn’t make any sense, context clues people.

I purposely didn’t write out teacher, I meant teach. For as long as I can remember I’ve had a knack at shortening words for the fun of it. I still do it to this day and have no idea why or how/when it started. It looks like I’ve been doing it since the beginning of time.

That damn fire pit.

One night the whole fam-bam was sitting around it when bats started to swoop down and when I say swoop, I mean Kamikaze swoop. Within seconds Mom is wrangling her three kids and hauling ass back into the house while Super Dad swings plastic patio chairs in the air.

Believe it or not there are two more hilarious bat stories in our family.

(1) Mom, Grandma, Grandma’s longtime boyfriend (get it Granny), my sister and brother and I, took a vacation up to boyfriend’s lake house on Lake Erie. Us kids were sharing the upstairs bedroom while Mom and Grandma shared the bed downstairs, boyfriend got the couch.

Us kids had just snuggled in to our beds for the night, and I was reading my book by the nightlight (I’ve always been a nerd) when one of my sibs started to scream. “Something came in through the window! Something came in through the window!”

I hadn’t heard anything as I was in deep with my Babysitter’s Club book, so I started to look around. One curtain shake a later, a bat came flying out and smacking into the walls. We all went downstairs screaming.

And while we all went downstairs screaming, Grandma’s boyfriend came flying up the stairs (in his underwear) with an empty cereal box and a broom. Not sure what he was going to accomplish with his items, but we laugh about it still to this day. The mental image of an old, sleepy bald man in his underwear, who is standing in the hall dazed and confused, with an empty cereal box and broom.

(2) The family was at Home Depot getting whatever families need at Home Depot for a weekend project. We were walking down the main aisle and my Dad was lagging a little bit farther behind.

I turned my head for whatever reason and see my Dad crouched low with his hand in a swatting motion, aimed in my direction. In my head I’m yelling out, “What the flip did I do now!? I didn’t do anything! We’re in public!”

Before I could remember what I was guilty for, he swatted at something behind me and a quick whoosh of air went up my side.

A flipping bat. A damn bat was hanging on the back side of my shorts and hadn’t even noticed. Super Dad to the rescue.

Knock on wood, this is the last near death encounter anyone in my family has had with bats.

Love Shannon

PS: We lived in the middle of freaking nowhere; loads of bats slept in the woods behind our house. The corn fields though, they made excellent model rocket launch pads after harvest season. Dad would light the fuse and us kids would chase the rocket down, twirling in aimless circles trying to be the kid who caught it.

My family has three bat stories, what does your family have? Haha. Let me know about your crazy animal encounter in the comment section below. 

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Dear Diary September 1997

What else could be revealed in this week’s dose of preteen nostalgia? Let’s find out. 

Quick recap: I’m very proud at the age I started walking, 9 months if you’ve forgotten. Alissa has made her regular pen-ins, but bus crush Neil has been increasingly absent and it can only mean one thing. I don’t love Neil anymore, what has the world come to?!

Here is September 1997.

Sept. 24, 1997
Fiuer it out.
And someone 
on there is
cute   his name is Danny.

Sept. 24, 1997(9?)
I have a 
cute guy
his name is
from Grease

Nov. 15, 1997
I am
To New York

Sept. 25, 1997
My poor bother
is sick! I feel
bad! but my mommy
is taking him
to school

[Dear Diary] I have sinned. I misspelled Danny Zuko’s name. Forgive me.
Mom wanted to go Grease Lightning on my ass after the six-hundredth ka-jillionith time of watching Grease. There are only so many times a girl can drool over John Travolta before losing her shit, sorry Mom!

Anyone else out there notorious for loving a good to-do list? The best part is checking off the tasks and probably explains all the jumbled-month diary entries. Just wanted to fill up my diary in a timely manner!

Fiuer it out has got to be Figure It Out? My husband and I just had a conversation about favorite 90s TV shows, otherwise I’m not sure I could’ve cracked the code. Plus, wasn’t there a Danny regular on the show?

Or was there a Danny from All That who was my hottie? Lawd, I’ll never know.

Love Shannon

PS: Poor Moms, always being blamed. How’d you like that semi-passive aggressive blow to my Madre for taking my poor sick brother to school?

PSS: “I’m moving to New York city!” If only this kid knew it’d be the first of many “I’m moving to ______.” And it wasn’t New York City, it was a small town in Hudson Valley just outside New York City. Totally digging I have it documented though.

220px-Danny_TamberelliPSSS: I googled Danny. I’m pleased to say my memory has done gooooood. He was on both Figure It Out AND All That. I think I might be like-like him all over again, because who doesn’t love the Giants for ruining Tom Brady’s perfect season?

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Dear Diary August 1997

The dedication I had to keep up with my diary writing is impressing my twenty something self. We’ve made it to August and I’m still plugging away, determined to fill each and every page.

Per last post, I’m currently smack dab in the middle of a love triangle within my own heart. Tom and Neil, Neil and Tom. Who knew it could be so complicated for a single-digit-aged kid? It’s hard out there for the bus crushes!

Quick recap: I’ve planned out dog names for my future self. One will be named Shep (can you guess where I got that one from? 10 cool points if you do!) and one named Lucky. Full disclosure: currently have two puppies, neither by the name of Shep or Lucky. My two rascals are dubbed Bella and Bailey, a.k.a. Bella Booski and Hurricane Bailey, or simply–da puppies. 

I’m not editing any of the contents from my diaries or reading the entires beforehand. That way we can share in the wonder together.

Here is August 1997. 

Augist 18th 1997
Today I went 
to Alissa's house
and played baby
with Max it was

Aug. 19th 1997
Today paul, Dan
Ashly, Nicol, Key, paul came
over. Dan is 10 years old. Ashly is 2 years
old. Nicole is 8 months
old. Kyl is 6 years old. paul is 6 years They are twins.
I was only 9 months
old when I started walking.

[Dear Diary] DONE is my go to word when I’m stressed and overworked. Considering this is me and I’m still me, I think I was DONE.
Well, August was a slow month…

But you got a complete rundown of each kid I played with on this day, future reporter? Nah, I went to journalism school and took the classes. It wasn’t the life for me. Mad respect for the reporters struggling, though.

Speaking of reporting, did anyone else take on an semi-unhealthy obsession with the movie Harriet The Spy? Oh. Mah. Gawd. Did I want to be Harriet. I begged for a marble notebook 3.2 milliseconds after the movie ended.

I’d sit behind our lounge chair, which was backed up a corner leaving ample triangular room for a kid to hide, and spy on family (pretty sure Mom knew, damn moms always knew).

Swift and painful death

The label even had PRIVATE etched across the front, super official. It’s also possible I got a friend to do the infamous pen tattoo. We were so cool.

Do kids still play ‘baby’ anymore, or is that too gender specific now-a-days? I can’t explain my then fascination with pretending to be Mom, maybe it was because I loved the shit out of mine and mimicking her was the only way I knew how to flatter?

I defiantly don’t share the same sentiment at almost 28-years-old. Still not okay with how babies come out, can hardly afford to feed myself and not sure I’d fare well in Mom jeans. Maybe when I grow up.

Good to see I’m super humble, too. “I started walking at 9 months.” To be honest, I have no idea if that’s even true. Ya can’t trust an 8-year-old.

Love Shannon

PS: Get your spelling together Shannon!

PSS: I have no idea who any of those peeps are or could’ve been.

PSSS: George Of The Jungle (Brendan Fraser). The elephant (dog)’s name was …. Shep!

What was your favorite movie growing up, or who did you want to emulate so badly it hurt? Let me know in the comment section! 

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