Most of what I found is hilarious to me but probably wouldn't be hilarious (or even that interesting) to you. Except for this. Prepare to cringe your faces off.
August 16, 1994
I got a tampon in.* I thought I was defective and had two orifices** or something but NO! YAY! I am so proud and relieved. Let us mark this day in history!
Sad but definitive proof that I am not making this up.
I am not even kidding when I say that this is by far the most exciting entry my diary had ever seen. Had I started to write my autobiography in 1994, the Great Tampon Victory would surely have been the highlight, deserving three or four chapters. The rest of this volume, which spans the summers of 1993 to 1997, recounts my days in the way that your ninety year-old great aunt might: Let's see, I had breakfast--grapefruit--and then I watched that Geraldo on TV. I read for awhile and went to the pharmacy for my Coumadin. We had hamburgers for supper. I peppered my writing with declarations of love for unrequited crushes, but I never had so much as a study date to write to my diary about. I can only imagine that my all-caps GUESS WHAT?! elicited my jaded diary to respond, "What, did we fall asleep reading John Grisham and dream about Evan Dando again?"
In my defense, I had an old boyfriend who used to address his diary entires "Dear Jesus," so it could be worse.
*I had a terrible experience prior to my ultimate victory involving a hand mirror and some aloe vera cream.
**My health education failed me miserably. You do have two orifices down there, sweetie. Three if we're being technical.