Category Archives: Reading my teenage blog

Reading my teenage blog: Part II – “Its Just A Small Town Saturday Night”

“Reading my Teenage Blog” is a series of essays by writer Skylar Baker-Jordan where he, well, reads the online diary he kept as a teenager and responds as a man in his 30s. He hopes to find insights into how he – and the world –  has changed from the early ’00s to the early ’20s. Some names have been changed and some portions redacted in order to protect the privacy of those he writes about.

This one was painful because of how explicit I got. I considered redacting a few portions, and did one (I explain why I didn’t, and why I did). I’m still not sure this is the best idea I ever had. Part of me feels like this will come back to bite me in the ass. Still, I think there are lessons to be learned and insights to be gleaned by looking back at what I wrote, for the world to read on the Internet, in the early noughts. Let’s see if you agree.

Its Just A Small Town Sunday Night 4/21/2002
Well, I just got off the phone with [Sabrina]. We both agree that what happened between us last night should stay between us-especially because I’m gay. When she asked me what posessed me to do that, I said it was the high that I was on. I really think that there was so much nicotine in my system that I was high and not thinking straight. I smoked two packs in about eight hours. I’ve NEVER done that before. But moving on.

I kissed a girl and I… didn’t like it. Very fucking cute that I would blame it on being “high” off nicotine. I don’t actually remember this specific incident, but picking up on context clues and a fuzzy 18-year-old memory tells me I kissed Sabrina. This was not the last time I would kiss a girl (this would happen a couple times in college), but it was never more than a funny game to me.

From 2001 – 2002 I was on what many called at the time (and maybe still do) the “bi now, gay later” plan. I knew I was gay, but for a few months I waffled, telling others – and myself – that I was maybe bisexual. I knew I wasn’t, but being gay seemed so freaking hard. Weirdly, I remember that it wasn’t the homophobia that bothered me, but the thought of being single through high school. Of course, once I discovered that being gay wouldn’t condemn me to a sexless adolescence I quickly gave up the ghost of performative bisexuality and just came out as plain ole’ boring gay. I wonder if kids these days still struggle with this? I was the only openly gay kid in my high school (though not the only gay kid – there were others, and I knew who they were because they told me). For me, dating was a real challenge. These days, though, so many kids come out. Is finding a teenage romance still a problem? I don’t know.

I do think I remember this night, though. If not *this* night, a night around this time that has stuck with me my entire life. My sophomore year there were three girls I hung out with for a few months – Sabrina (mentioned above), Marida (pronounced Merdee), and Brandie (or Brandiie or some unique spelling – can’t quite recall). They were sound, but we drifted apart pretty quickly. I remember one night, though, spent cruising mountain roads while we blasted country music, smoking cigarettes in the park under a pale moonlight, driving 30 miles to Wal-Mart just to walk around. I’ve often wondered why I remember that night so much. We had a laugh, but we didn’t do anything memorable. Yet looking back on it, I see that it’s one of the last nights of innocence I ever had. Just me and three girlfriends goofing off. Yeah, we smoked cigarettes, but that was as rebellious as we got. Flying down a country road blasting Alabama through the mountain night felt quintessentially southern, quintessentially high school. I think that’s why it sticks with me.

Mark. We made out for about 30 minuets yesterday, and for me to say that I didn’t enjoy it would be a lie. He is so sexy, so preppy, has the cutest feet (next to [Ryan]) and is so my type. But I didn’t feel that spark with him that I felt with [Ryan]. As much as I want him to be, he’s not [Ryan]. And when I was giving him that hand job, I couldn’t help but to feel that I was cheating on [Ryan]-even though we aren’t even dating. Mark gave me his number and wants to get together again, and even though I enjoyed his company and his kisses (and his cum…..yes thats nasty I know but hey this is my diary-my most private thoughts go in here-just the whole world gets to see them), I think I like him more as a friend. In fact, my love for [Ryan] has never wavered. I only want him. And that scares me. It really does.

I almost redacted two parts of this, and you can probably figure out which two parts they are. Something we didn’t understand in 2002 is that the Internet is forever. To find my teenage blog you would really have to do some deep digging. The website has been offline for at least 16 years. Yet, it’s still there if you know where to look. That’s a frightening thought, and any Gen Z folk reading this should take heed. Nothing online ever goes away.

Now, Mark. I have no idea who this is. I do not remember a Mark. Sorry, Mark. If you read the previous entry in this series, you’ll know I do remember Ryan. He was probably the first boy I ever loved, even if it was a puppy love. Still, dealing with those feelings as a teenager is scary. I had only just turned 16 when I wrote this. At the time I felt so grown-up and certian of myself. Looking at this, though, it’s clear that I was still a child and deeply insecure and unsure of what I was doing. This isn’t new; adults looking back at their teenage years with mortification is a tale as old as time. It’s especially uncomfortable, though, when you read the words you wrote as a youth. 

[Sabrina] thinks that me giving up sexual activity is the worst thing I could do. I’m going to be so “jittery (I’ll) be bouncing off the walls.” I swear, I dunno what to do. I really, really don’t. My heart says give up sex for him, but my head (and dick) say not too. So I dunno. Me and [Sabrina] have decided to tel [Ryan] about my dream. She’s going to do it tomarrow-somehow. [REDACTED]

I redacted part of this because taken out of context or in bad faith it could be used to hurt someone, and while I think the chances of anyone I went to high school with reading this or figuring it out small, it’s not something I want to worry about. None of the people I wrote about in this diary consented to being written about, a harsh truth I have to accept as an adult and actually had to reckon with in high school. My senior year, my online diary became public knowledge and I became Gossip Girl before there was a Gossip Girl. It was never my intention, but it happened, and I couldn’t control the fallout. I was indignant at the time. I am remorseful now.

I wish I had the context for my decision to “give up sex” because I don’t remember this at all, which probably means I didn’t do it. Of course, as of this writing I was still a virgin. I wouldn’t be for much longer; looking at the date this was published, I would lose my virginity within three weeks of its writing. Still, I’d love to know what was going on in my head and in my life before and after this entry. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it), only excerpts of my online diary from 2001 – 2003 are available, meaning some things will be mentioned without context and with no way to know what exactly was happening. Things I thought I would remember forever have been forgotten, while some things I read bring back memories so vivid they could have happened yesterday. Funny, that.

I’m really annoyed that I didn’t know how to spell “tomorrow.”

Well, thats it. Nothing major has happened today. I’ll ttyl all.

When was the last time any of us used “ttyl.” I wonder if teenagers today even know what “ttyl” means?

Peace.

Bye.

Skylar Baker-Jordan is a freelance writer based in Tennessee. His work has appeared at the Independent, Huff Post UK, Salon, and elsewhere. Follow him on Twitter @skylarjordan and become a sustainer at www.patreon.com/skylarjordan

Reading my teenage blog: Part I – “Heartbreak, You Got The Best Of Me……….”

If you follow me on Twitter you might have seen that I recently discovered my online blog from high school. Earlier this month I answered the same questions at 34 I answered at 17. That got such a fun response from people (mostly those who know me personally, but some who follow my professional writing) that I decided to go ahead and make this a series.

I’m going to do a paragraph-by-paragraph response to my blog, seeing how my views have changed over the past two decades and laughing at myself (or cringing at myself) where needed. Some entries may be edited to take out personal information or information I think others would not want revealed, and I will indicate where that happens.

We start with this entry from April 2002, in which apparently I have had my heart broken. In April 2002 I was 16-years-old, a sophomore in high school, and living in southeastern Kentucky. On the date this was written – 24 April 2002 – “Foolish” by Ashanti was the number one song in the US while “Girlfriend” by *NSync topped the British charts. The Scorpion King, starring The Rock, was the number one film in the United States. 9/11 had happened only seven months prior, George W Bush was in his first term, the iPod had only just been released the previous autumn, and I had never had a mobile phone and didn’t see the point of one. 

How things have changed. Or have they? Let’s take a look at what 16-year-old Skylar thought.

Heartbreak, You Got The Best Of Me………. 4/24/2002
If something seems to good to be true, it probably is. How true is that line? OMG its just…..read about my day.

I always had a flare for the dramatic. But I still agree that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

First hour my hair was all fucked up, so I ran all around school fixing it. I used lotion to get the hairspray out, then I had to run to Sherri’s locker (down the MATH WING!) to get the fucking hairspray and I used spit to fix it. Then my spit fell on the desk. We watched some movie over Jews so it was easy.

NOT THE MATH WING! There’s so much happening in this paragraph. First of all, Sherri, I’m sorry but I don’t remember you. Thanks for letting me use your hairspray… and spit? Maybe I used my own spit. God I hope I used my own spit. If I used Sherri’s spit I really should remember her. Anyway, I’m not sure why I used lotion to get hairpsray out of my hair. Is that a trick I’ve forgotten over the years? Does anybody know?

I’m really fucking disappointed in how blase I was about “some movie over Jews.” That just reads as incredibly offensive to me as a 34-year-old man. I’m sure I didn’t mean it offensively, but fucking hell boy, word choice matters.

Second hour we rehearsed and I joked around with Amanda Jo. I have to go get a costume really soon. I’m so nervous about being in front of the whole school. I’ve been acting my entire life, but not in front of people who know me and my entire life story. AND NOT IN FRONT OF [RYAN – a psuedonym to be used here on out]!

I changed the name of the boy because I want to respect his privacy. Some of my high school friends will probably figure out from context who it is. Just leave it, I ask. It’s been 18 years – let’s let sleeping dogs lie.

Amanda Jo! We had such fun together. I miss her. (If you’re reading this, hi Amanda Jo!) What were we rehearsing? 2002… must have been Alice in Wonderland. I plaid the White Rabbit. I had a line during a croquet match that went “my ball, my ball, I can’t play without my ball!” but slipped up in a performance and said “I can’t play without my balls!” It was humiliating, but also hilarious. 

Third hour I hung out with Sally, Samantha, Teddy Bear, and some other seniors in the library. We talked about Prom and looking for Prom parties. SO far no luck.

Sally I remember. Teddy Bear I remember his face, though not his name (Josh, maybe?). Samantha… sorry, love, no idea. Why is “Prom” capitalised. It’s not a proper noun you fool. We found a prom party in the end and it is one of the most memorable nights of my life. It was a big night in my life, as prom nights often are. Yes, I’m being coy. I’m much less brazen at 34 than I was at 16.

Fourth hour I forgot my work for Koog and so I get a 0 on that. It sucks because I had it all finished, too! I feel like such the dumbass! And so yah. The major thing of fourth period was when Sally told me that [Ryan] had had a girlfriend way back in sixth grade [name redacted]! OMG one of my best friends dated him and failed to tell me this! And he does have a crush on [name redacted] (so he says-we’re not sure if we believe this). That scares me, because I’m starting to think [he] may be straight. If he is straight I’d be happy for him, but I know that I’ll die inside. I swear I need him. I wrote him a letter about being an ass to me fourth hour, too.

Fail to prepare, prepare to fail. You deserved that 0. As it stands I still end up going out of the house and forgetting half of what I meant to bring. I guess that’s less a youthful folly than it is a character flaw.

I really hate how goddamn needy and frankly obsessive I am in this paragraph. It’s bad. It was also the start of a pattern in my life, one in which I routinely fall for men who don’t seem interested in me or are unwilling to commit and who say they’re straight but actually aren’t straight at all. Ryan was the prototype for so many heartbreaks through my twenties. I didn’t die inside, though. That happened about 9 years later.

 I wonder if I ever gave Ryan that letter? I don’t think I did, because I remember “Ryan” well and I think I’d remember something like that (it was a weird time in my life). I hope to God I didn’t, anyway, not just because it would be mortifying to me but because Ryan clearly set boundaries that I was ignoring. This is not romantic, baby Skylar, it’s abusive. Stop it. (I did stop it – and I was 16, so, you know, I’m cutting myself a little slack here.

[REDACTED PARAGRAPH – Personal information about another individual]

This was my fear when I decided to do this, and one entry in I’m already redacting quite a bit. This person would not want this information revealed though, I am 100% certain about that. Rather than risk anyone finding out, I’m just going to redact it. The point of this is to have fun, but it’s also to look at how much our world and I have changed since the early 2000s. I don’t think this really adds anything of interest in that context, so I’m okay leaving it out.

Fifth hour we watched “To Kill A Mockingbird” and that was that. Me, Lee, and Bridget started the “Broken Hearts Club,” which now has Sally as a member too. Lee says we should get the rest of the cheerleaders in it. I’m thinking about getting Becka in it too.

I’m still a member of this club. Also – does every American high school student read “To Kill a Mockingbird?” I think they do.

Snacks. Oh lord Sally told me [RYAN] said no to the picture (okay, I didn’t really care-HONESTLY LoL shocked me too). SHe told him he needs to start saying “hi” to me or something and he just sadly shook his head no. She said when he said he didn’t want to take that picture (I’m guessing thats what she meant) his eyes said he was lying. She said she thinks the boy is 100% gay [redacted few words]. I dunno…..I hope she’s right.

Take the fucking hint and leave the lad alone, baby Skylar. Honestly Ryan had the patience of Job and I am not liking how relentless I was here. Again, 16, so… cutting myself some slack. But yikes. Anyway, I do remember this actually. I wanted a picture of us together, and he said no. We did eventually take some pictures together, but I burnt them a year later after watching “The Craft” and thinking that maybe sorcery could work. It didn’t, but I still have hope it might.

Sixth hour I worked and thought of [RYAN]. Thats about it. We took Sara home today and then rode around ’till about 4:00 when Sal brought me home and I got online!

Imagine a time where “getting online” was a cause for excitement. In 2002 we made a point of being online, but in 2020 we make a point of disconnecting. A Twitter friend of mine just went offline until June as part of her Lenten sacrifice and social media detox – something that would have baffled people in the early 00s, when the internet was not a ubiquitous part of our lives. Did we know how it would come to take over our world? I don’t think I did. I never could have imagined smart phones or social media, though of course neither was a big step from Palm Pilots or AOL Chat Rooms/websites like LiveJournal. In hindsight it was all quite a logical progression, but at the time it would have seemed impossible if I had thought it.

GOSSIP TIME! LoL well lets see…..Peter Pan and Whitney are happy together. How, I don’t know, but hey, good for them-even though Bridgets heart is breaking. Lee’s crush is still acting like a fucker to her. Becka and Will may be broken up-Becka doesn’t know. She said something to me like “he needs to see what hes got.” I agree-Becka’s a great catch. [NAME REDACTED] wants to go back out with [NAME REDACTED] (they dated from 4-7 grade), but shes afraid all he wants is sex. And he won’t make the first move.

This was one paragraph (together with the next section), but I’m splitting it into two. I have no idea who Peter Pan was, and only a vague idea who Whitney was. OH WAIT – Bridget liked him. Yes, I do remebmer who Peter Pan is. He was a dick to me. (Bridget, I hope you found a better man.) I don’t remember Becka dating a Will, but I guess she did. She is a great catch though, that much is still true.

THEY DATED FROM 4 – 7 GRADE. I read that and howled. Imagine thinking that mattered. That’s like ages 10 – 13. What do you even do when you “date” someone that young? Hold hands and pretend to argue over money and how much “juice” he drinks because that’s what your parents do so that must be how marriage works? Silly kids. Silly, silly kids.

[Me] and [RYAN] may not hook up like everybody thought, because [RYAN] is being a prick (we also found out that [RYAN] and [REDACTED] dated in sixth grade). People are pulling for [me] though. Angela found out about [my] crush on [RYAN] by Stephanie, who decided to open her big mouth-but [I am] not to be mad at Stephanie (oh, God forbid!).

Get the fuck over yourself, baby Skylar. This boy is not worth it, and he clearly isn’t interested in you. Look at your life, look at your choices. Also, Stephanie and I recently followed one another on Twitter so there’s every chance she reads this and I just want to say that I forgive you for telling Angela about my crush our sophomore year of high school which was apparently a big deal at the time but honestly I don’t even remember. Thank you for still having me in your wedding despite this snarky post. Hope you’re well.

Tim and Amanda are back together, which breaks Sally’s heart. One of her old boyfriends (I don’t know his name) wants back together with her.

No idea who Tim and Amanda are, unless they’re the couple that Sally and I went to see 8 Mile with. Don’t feel too bad for Sally, though; she’s been married since 2003 and has a beautiful family, so it all worked out.

[REDACTED TWO SENTENCES – PERSONAL INFORMATION ABOUT ANOTHER PERSON]

[I] cried over [Ryan] today in the library at lunch, and chased Sammie Jo off. [I’m] becoming a cruel, heartless bitch.

You’re becoming an annoying little prick, but I don’t know about a cruel, heartless bitch. I think you just need to chill out, leave the “straight” boys alone, and wait until college when you can really let your hair down. (Spoilers: you won’t, and the next two years will be even more dramatic than this – a long-lost mother, a love triangle, a murder. Huh, my high school career kind of sounds like an episode of Riverdale.

Peace out.

Deuces

Skylar Baker-Jordan is a freelance writer based in Tennessee. His work has appeared at the Independent, Huff Post UK, Salon, and elsewhere. Follow him on Twitter @skylarjordan and become a sustainer at www.patreon.com/skylarjordan