Diary Thursday: Miserable party

I’m sorry, but this entry is totally cracking me up. I thought it would be good to post now since my birthday’s coming up and I’m stressing about figuring out what to do to celebrate. What an ungrateful little brat I was. How fun I must have been for my parents.

February 25th, 1991, Saturday, 14-years-old, 11:41pm

I had a miserable birthday party. Nobody gave me good presents. I got a bunch of tapes I didn't want and have to return, a pair of earrings I already have, gift certificates I'm probably never going to use, and $40. Mom gave me some too small T-shirts to decorate with the wrong kind of puffy-paint. And Steve gave me a Swiss Army knife that has to be returned and exchanged. Oh, I'm so depressed. Plus, everyone at my party came, ate and left. We did not play games or anything. Actually, it probably wasn't that bad, I'm just in an awful bad mood. I'm depressed about play rehearsals because I have no friends!! And tomorrow I need to get a tetanus shot because Friday night I stepped on a thorn.

What a horrible mother I had that would buy the WRONG KIND of puffy paint.