Thrift shop Boy Scout uniform as shirt - Check
Band t-shirt (no idea what band this was) - Check
Baggy carpenter jeans - Check
Puma sneakers - Check
Lock and chain around neck - Check check
PAST NOTES
analog instant messages
you have found my collection of passed notes from the 90s, welcome.
spanning from the beginning of 1995 to junior year of high school in 1998, a note, reproduced verbatim from the original with the exception of all names, is posted to this blog in the order I'd received it. each post contains one note, and a brief narration of the back story as best I can remember it.
there will also be, from time to time, relevant photos, songs, videos, links, objects, quotes, diaries, poems, and other ephemera (all admittedly completely self-indulgent and wince-inducing).
you have found my collection of passed notes from the 90s, welcome.
spanning from the beginning of 1995 to junior year of high school in 1998, a note, reproduced verbatim from the original with the exception of all names, is posted to this blog in the order I'd received it. each post contains one note, and a brief narration of the back story as best I can remember it.
there will also be, from time to time, relevant photos, songs, videos, links, objects, quotes, diaries, poems, and other ephemera (all admittedly completely self-indulgent and wince-inducing).
Oct 21
Yours truly, hanging out at the town park
Circa Fall 1995
If this blog wasn’t anonymous, and I didn’t have to blur out my face, you would be able to see that even though I was skate-punk-thugged-out, I still wore bright fire engine red lipstick. Viva the 90s.
Oct 17
rusty screw I removed from one of the stalls in a girls bathroom, found in the bag of shit from the past
Oct 16
Looking though the contents of this journal just now, I actually had the desire to burn it to ash in the kitchen sink. I envisioned people reading it after I die. I don’t think I would ever want it to be in anybody else’s hands but mine. Not even you, Internet. The things I wrote in here are painful to read. And I don’t mean like, the memories are too sad. I mean because the stuff I wrote is just awful. I can’t even look at it. I was thirteen. This is the first journal I got after moving upstate (I actually did burn all the diaries I had prior, in the field behind our new house, not too long after we’d moved. From adolescent embarrassment of childhood. I am still forlorn I did that). In this journal, I start out as a lonely new girl, talking to myself, before I had made any friends. I end the book as a girl, mixed in with the wrong crowd, wanting to kill my parents, burn down the town and die young. And as every page in between gets scarier and scarier, I wonder two things — have I really gotten better over the years, or does this just mean I’ve been crazy for longer than I thought?
I hate this journal.
(my name has been blurred out of photo at bottom)
1995 — THIRTY FOUR
Eve,
Whatup Not much hear baby doll. So you want to dump me right. Anyway I’m in study hall thinking of you. Well I couldn’t go to the bonfire yesterday because my mom wanted to get something to eat so we went to that resturaunt the motzerellas or something well anyway it took 45 minutes for the food to cum and another 45 minutes to eat it. Then my mom wanted to go finish shopping so I go mom can we go + she said no let me finish shopping, so I bitched and complained so then we ended up stayin there until 9:30. Well I gota go I love you.
I LOVE YOU LOTS!
PS. Don’t Dump Me Please
Jim
He had pretty strict (and ultra religious) parents. He was the youngest of four, with three fuck-up older siblings. I don’t know if his mom or dad had any hope for him, but if they did, it would have been squashed fairly soon after he met me (spoiler alert). Even though his father lived *in town* (his parents were divorced and each re-married), he was never able to hang out there with all of us after school. Our school bused kids in from several other surrounding towns, and he lived with his mom and step-dad in one that was much farther away. I wasn’t in walking distance of town myself, but I still managed to find myself there as much as I could - as well as Cadence & Cailean, who also lived farther away but could always finagle transportation (keep in mind, we are all still 14 years old at this point). Jackie and Valerie lived in town, Valerie right behind the Rite Aid parking lot that was our main stomping ground. We loved to hang out in parking lots and other places where you could get arrested for loitering but never did (okay once - eleven of us all in one sweep but that happens in tenth grade so keep reading). Valerie also lived next door to the Perezutti brothers house, which was debauch central for us. Other than that, we would hang out @ the Getty gas station and one of the two pizzerias, which were across the street from each other. This was a one stoplight kind of town. Literally. One stoplight in the entire town.
Some nights, there were school related events like bonfires, or football games. So my friends and I would tell our parents that we were going to “the game” or whatever, to coordinate a parent-approved ride there and back. Then we would walk from school into town, and get in to absolutely no fucking good whatsoever. It was a pretty big deal. And that is probably why I wanted to dump Jim for missing out on all the fun that would have been had at the bonfire that night. But I didn’t. I think I liked the new importance of having a boyfriend too much.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Nine Inch Nails - Something I Can Never Have
Oct 14
Oct 13
1995 — THIRTY THREE
YO PUNK
“Are you gonna let him let him
U to death
You move away
But not to far” [1]
Eve,
Oh dear friend you frighten me with those threats to break my knee cap [2]
So I’m writing you back
Too bad our plans got knocked up. We would have had fun. I thought for a while that Joe Perezutti was skipping too, but he’s in school now.
Cause I would be pissed if I didn’t skip. So when are you gonna change your last name to Jims? ha ha ha.
“White trash get down on your knees time for cake and sodomy -
- too much oral defecation” [3]
Well I hope your happy
You’ve gotten me to write you.
Well anyways, (I wish I was a human ashtray) [4]
Tres chic bitches [5] are in the house! I’m only in 4th period and already need a stogie.
So maby we can skip Friday cause then we wouldn’t have to get on the bus in the afternoon, we could just stay after unless youre still grounded. That would suck majorly.
So in conclusion – mommy dearest – I want some lovin – just kidding
This letter’s getting a little long so write or talk laterFrancis Bean [6]
Hurling the aerosol cans [7]
Sweet cheeks
This note is laced with in-jokes.
1) Lyrics from the 7 Year Bitch song Icy Blue, featured in the movie Mad Love, which was our absolute favorite movie and model for life at the time.
2) I told Cadence I would break her knee caps if she didn’t write me a note already (her presence was starting to get missed on this blog, too)
3) Lyrics from Marilyn Manson song Cake & Sodomy that Cadence used to recite all the time, which was actually kind of amazing considering the lyrics went like this, “Red-neck-burn-out-mid-west-mind, who said date rape isnt kind?” But pretty soon this rude sophomore girl started a rumor going around that Cadence thought of herself as “the god of fuck”, and people started to come up to her and ask, “So, are you really the god of fuck?”. We decided right then and there that we hated that girl.
4) Some guy said this once while we were all on acid and it immediately became something we would always say to each other, in exactly the inflection he had used, which I don’t know how to translate here. I totally just texted it to her now.
5) Tres chic bitches was how we referred to ourselves, obviously.
6) Since we were banned by our parents from hanging out the year before, Francis Bean - her code name / Courtney - mine.
7) Also the year before, after our semester of metal shop class was over, we broke into the shop building, which was located apart from the main building in the parking lot behind the school and stole all the spray paint (with ambitions to do up the town with our amateur attempts at vandalism). However, that all happened on the same day that I got suspended from school for having a minuscule bag of weed located inside of a Satanic troll mascot so when they finally let me out of the interrogation principal’s office for a bathroom break after the bust, the first thing I did was run to my locker, remove all the cans of spray paint and huuuuuurrrrrled them into a trash can in the girls room as I ran back to the bench I might as well have been handcuffed to, in the office. With the “severity” of what I had just been caught with, six or seven cans of stolen spray paint was the last thing I needed to have discovered in my locker, in case it was searched, which it never actually was. But at least by that point I’d started using my brain… even just that little bit was something.
“ Ever notice how happy kids don’t write in their diaries very much? They don’t have to. Life’s too fun. Diaries are for when life isn’t fun. They’re for figuring what went wrong.
Oct 12
Pantera - War Nerve (FTW)
Truly, fuck the world, for all it’s worth, every inch of Planet Earth, fuck myself,
don’t leave me out, but don’t get involved, don’t corner me
Inside, ulcer, unjust bastards, file out face first
Meet the lies and see what you are
It’s forcing you down, and it’s grinding against you
Let the war nerve break
For every fucking second the pathetic media pisses on me and
judges what I am in one paragraph - Look here - Fuck you all
Expect the worse, you bleeding heart, but kill me first
before it starts, yes my cock is getting hard, we are
born different after all
Invite mayhem, produce weapons, shoot out, burn down
No CNN or media now
All the money in the fucking world couldn’t
buy me one second of trust or one ounce of faith in anything you’re about
Fuck you all
Nothing is worth the sleep that I’ve lost
Apologies unacceptable now
A blistered revenge awaits in me
This is fucking loveless
Hate
Hate mail is not read, in jail instead
The Lord knows, there’s worse
Ignore, this curse
Hate
1995 — THIRTY TWO
Hey Evie,FTW for real - when it was a reference to Pantera, before the internet brought us FAIL or LOL-speak. Fuck, before the internet, really.
Did you find anything else about that Valerie bit? That really suxs. I wanted to call you real bad last nite, but…….. I do no longer reserve the privelege of telecommunication with you. Anyways * Evie you gotta promise me you’re not gonna hurt yourself okay?
I
I hate this whole fuckin skol and everyone in it. Everyone has skrewed me over at least once this year one way or another. And last night I realized I only have about 4 real friends.
Shit gotta go.
Jacqueline
