Hello Diary!
When I was seven years old, I asked my parents for a diary. The one I chose had Hello Kitty on the cover holding three balloons, a basket of flowers at her feet with “DEAR DIARY” written across the top. The diary assured privacy by way of a small padlock and two keys, both of which I promptly lost (I’d use a crochet hook to open the lock).
Here are those first few entries:
I am sick. I don’t go to a school. I watch T.V. and havef fun. But ti’s not fun. Cos I skip school.
I go to the movie and I am still sick. I go to the swings. I do not go to the movie.
I mite go to the movie. But I will go somewhere eals. I still do not go to the movie.
As a little girl, two things I loved most were going to the movies and going to the playground, where I would ride the swings and play on the monkey bars pretending they were my own apartment (you should have seen what I did with my imaginary living room). Two things I hated most were false promises and getting my hopes up. While my youthful disappointment may not have been fully conveyed within the rainbow pages of the Hello Kitty diary, rest assured, it was there, between the lines.