  I have now compiled what I think are all of my diaries that I have been keeping at my mother's house. There's 16 books here and about another 15 that I have in Atlanta. I have been going through them randomly and am consistently surprised by how much I had forgotten.n I have also made a point to get a different looking diary each time. Some are big, some are narrow, some are plain and some are really fancy. It all depends on my mood. I have even been given blank books that I wound up never using because it didn't fit my mood at that time. (I always felt guilty for that) I find that the best diaries if they are about 81/2 x 6", with college rule, and either spiral bound or bound like an old book (in other words sewn, not glued). If they're too big, they're cumbersome. If they're too small, they cramp your hand. A lot of people tell me they tried keeping a diary but didn't like it.
My bet is they were just using a second-rate book. One of the diaries had a lock on it and I had to find one of those generic tiny lock keys to open it. Sure enough, being th good girl scout she is, my mom had one of those keys. I opened the book and found it was from 1994 from March to December.
And then I remembered that I had locked it after the "Cape Cod Condom" incident. In 1994 I moved back to the USA from Germany to live with my Aunt and Uncle in Indianapolis. That winter I spent two grueling days in a car with my mom's parents (Grandma and Grandpa F.) to get to Cape Cod where my parents live for Christmas. Long story short: my Grandpa didn't fully shut the lid to his car trunk and all of my things got wet. I wasn't there for the ordeal and when I heard that they had gone through everything to lay it out to dry, I nearly had a heart attack. One of the items being hung out to dry was my DIARY. It was the one with a ripped condom wrapper taped in it with the words, "I DID IT!!
" written next to it. Naturally. I was sure that if anyone were to open the diary, it would naturally open to the "marked" page, thus making my deflowerment known to my (eek! ) Grandparents, who would in turn make a fuss to my mother about my sinful ways. I had to make a difficult decision. It would be another day before I would have my (wet) things returned to me. I had to assume they had seen it, but I couldn't have my mother finding out about this from them.
So in a terrifying pre-emptive move, I sat her down and told my mom I had had sex and that Grandma F. probably knew it by now. Oddly, my mom was more pissed off that I had preserved the moment than the fact that the moment had happened. But it was still one of THE most embarrassing moments in my life. I later found out that my cousin Jenny had quickly decended upon my things and saved my diary from the prying eyes of "the adults. " Eventhough it was too late to save face to my mom, Thank You. BTW: i think these posts are sloppy and misspelled. My mother's keyboard is in the least ergonomically friendly position EVER, so too bad. 
