…I started writing. I just dug through a picnic basket (I have no idea why I keep my writing paraphernalia in a picnic basket) full of my old journals and poetry notebooks, looking for my first ever book of self written poems. Unfortunately, it appears to being MIA. I haven’t bothered to read it during the past nine years, so maybe it felt unloved. That’s how I felt at 11, full of pre-pubescent angst that I would NEVER have a 3 day long relationship EVER.
I was hoping to find that notebook and post one of my angst-ridden poems from back in the day. I can remember the title, “Little Girl Lost,” (I was obsessed with Drew Barrymore in middle school, hence a poem with the same name as her memoir) and the subject matter- not being asked to dance at my first semi-formal. How devastating it was to be eleven!
I wrote more than angst-ridden poems during my pubescent middle school years, though. I was sucked into the poetry.com scheme, and I was so excited to receive an e-mail that “Roses and Rattlesnakes” was to be published and maybe even receive an award!
So that’s what I was doing at eleven. Being moody, watching “Never Been Kissed,” and writing poems. I certainly was not doing this: