The Little Black Book

In 9th Grade my friend 'Bean' and I had one of those little black notebooks you had to have for school.

Ours, however, was our tricky way of passing notes. It was brilliant.

I would write what I wanted/needed to say. Stick it in my locker. She would go to my locker, get the book and write what she wanted/needed to say and stick it in my locker.

We wrote about boys, classes, girls we didn't like, teachers, life and all sorts of other random things that 14yr olds find important.

Our Boyfriends found this book enchanting, something to be desired, something that needed to be read. They wanted to know if they were in the book, what we said about them, who else we talked about. It drove them crazy.

I made the silly mistake of giving my boyfriend my locker combination. You know this was the 'right of passage' into junior high relationships; before you could exchange house keys, we exchanged locker combination.

In retrospect, I wonder how much of a 'silly' mistake it was, or how much of it was this manipulative desire to stick the book under his nose and tempt him with it. I think it was the latter. Come on, I was 14.

Well, of course, they got it and read it. Never told us, until one day - I flip to the next blank page where there is a note from both, my boyfriend and Bean's boyfriend. Holy Shit!! I panicked - while smiling inside. He knows all my secrets. My memory is trying to decide whether we chided the boys about this or never mentioned it. Leaving this book to be elephant that hung in the air.

My favorite part about this book was the 'irritation section' - yes, we had a bitch column. We numbered the things that irritated us. AND oh boy, as youngsters everything irritated us. The way so and so butted into our conversations. The way Mr. Jones picked me out of the crowd to 'pick on me' - but he liked me. To this day, I do not know why he likes me.

(((Side Rant: OH - this totally reminds me of the silly things from that class. Matt throwing spit balls, Bryan not being able to pronounce words correctly, the damn required extra credit, drawing on the desks and on our hands <- which I was not allowed to do. Seriously, had to run home and upstairs everyday after school and wash my hands with this freakin' industrial soap my Dad had...Making up stories to taunt people with...OH - that was a grand class.)))

Back on point.

This book, was my connection to Bean. My connection to my teen years. It was mine. It was ours. Email is great, IM'ing is great, Facebook is great. But, none of those things will connect me to a time in my life like the excitement of this notebook. It had all of our secrets, dreams, desires and irritations.

I wonder/wish/hope that Bean still has that book, tucked away somewhere. It is unlikely as that was 10years ago. BUT, I would love to dive back into that young girl's mind, with the wisdom I posses now, and escape to the mind of a young child full of ideas, dreams, and not a care in the world.

Life was so simple back then.

~Stephanie