Preparing for an upcoming semester at school, I rummaged through old papers and memorabilia and found a journal from my sophomore year of high school. Usually I cannot stand to see such remembrances, but I laughed a great deal about the only two entries in that attempt. I have decided to reprint that over-six-year-old me in its gory hubris.
Here it is, the memoirs of a teenage stud muffin.
March 18, 2004
Funny how you can completely forget such a thing like Saint Patty's Day when you aren't around school kids or drunk Irish in Chicago.
March 20, 2004
IMed with [female name omitted]* today. Ahh... she is talented. Smart too. But I have to keep my options open. Have to play the field a bit. All part of being a stud muffin. Its tough, but someone's got to do it.
Though I am glad that I stopped this awkward narrative, I smile back at the person I was. Find the journals, notes, or tapes of who you were. Treasure them. No wonder prophets of God counsel us to keep a record of our lives: that record validates our progression and lets us stay conscious of the good we had and have.
*Female name was omitted to avoided any tarnish to her reputation.
