Ronchronicle #12 - My Junior High School Journal
I recently found a journal I kept as a junior high school student. It's a little awkward to share this, but I think it
provides a worthwhile look into the mind of adolescence and the innocence we all felt at that age. So, enjoy the
angst, aggression, and sweet cherubic expressions of love I felt when I was but a young lad growing up in Garden
Grove, California.
September 8, 1974: Wow!!! My first day at Lampson Junior High. I don't know if I like this place or not. Mom
moved us out of L.A. cause she thought me and Kenny would get beat up by the big kids at junior high in L.A. We
woulda gone to Orville Wright junior high. It was across the street from the Vons and we never shopped at Vons.
Just Lucky's. Anyway, they bused alot of kids to Orville Wright and Mom was worried they would steal our money,
beat us up, and pants us in PE. I guess things like that don't happen in Garden Grove. I didn't see any buses in
front of Lampson today. Anyway, Mom got me some cool new shirts to wear to school. One is a Bultaco motorcycle
shirt and one says, "If it isn't Schlitz; It isn't beer." That's the coolest one because it has a beer name on it. I got
drunk once at a little league party. My brother's coaches gave me a Colt 45 beer and let me drink it. I threw up
when we got home. I threw up a lot!!!
I think Mom knows I was drunk.
September 10, 1974: Mom and me went to J.C. Penney's to buy my P.E. clothes. Mom has to put my name on
them so they don't get mixed up with the other kids clothes. I heard we have lockers to put stuff in when we change,
so I don't know how they can get mixed up. Oh well. Mom is going to stitch my name in the back of the shirt. It has
two colors, blue and grey. I don't know why. Today is Kenny's birthday. He's all pissed off 'cause we had to go to
Penneys and couldn't go to Baskin Robbins for ice cream. Ha! Loser. He's 10 and he thinks he runs the family.
Why can't he run away like he always says he's gonna. That'd be cool.
September 11, 1974: Holy shit!!!! We have to take showers in PE. What the hell is that? We don't even sweat
that much. I do not want to see a bunch of dudes naked and I REALLY don't want them to see me naked. The truth
is, I don't have any hair down there. . .yet. . .and what if they laugh at my dick? I already fucking hate PE. I hate
being a fat kid. I hate having no hair. I hate having a little dick. Life sucks.
Maybe I'll get hurt real bad and I won't have to change for PE. Lampson Junior High is a big piece of shit.
September 14, 1974: Randy Baca is a fag. Today when I changed to go into the shower I tried to hide my
"privates" with my hands. I ran into the showers and got a towel as fast as I could with my hands covering my dick
(easy to do 'cause it's small). I guess he saw me because he came up to me at lunch infront of all his friends and
said he saw me playing with myself in the showers. I asked why he was looking at my dick in the showers and all
his friends laughed at him and called him a fag. It was cool. He's a total fag. Mom says we can move out of the
trailer and into our house next month.
November 12, 1974: Were still in the trailer. I fucking hate the trailer. Its small and me and Kenny have to share a
bedroom. Its not even a bedroom. It's the same place where we eat. You just take the pole out of the table and put
it across the bench and use the cushions for a mattress. Then you use a sleeping bag for your sheets. It totally
sucks.
Another bad thing about living in the trailer is your neighbors. The guy next door keeps coming over and bringing
us stuff he got when the store threw it out. Yesterday he brought us some baloney and some crap called pimento
loaf. It tasted like shit. Now I know why the store threw it away. Plus this guy keeps hitting on Mom. He must be
crazy. He brings shit the store threw away and then wants to date my mom? Good luck.
November 16, 1974: Mom kicked us out of the trailer again so she could have a "date" with the dude who brings us
trash. There is nothing to do around this trailer park after dark, so we just rode our bikes down to the Circle K and
bought candy and talked to the guy who works there. He's way cooler than Mr. Trash Picker and he has a job.
March 23, 1975: Good news! Our new house is finally ready. I'm so glad cause the principal keeps bugging me
about when I was going to move and be like a legal student in the school or something. He's weird anyway. He has
these glasses that are missing one of the things that go on your ear to hold them on your head, so everytime he
puts them on they're all crooked and shit. What a geek. Anyway, we're getting rid of the trailer and moving into a
house. OK, it's not a house it's a "townhome." In other words, our neighbor's house is built right next to ours. Sort
of like an apartment only way cooler. I can't wait. Mom says I can get a CB radio when we move. Awesome!!!
May 8, 1975: My birthday!! I'm finally 13 and a teenager!! It's totally cool being 13. I'm not like the little kids (like my
brother the loser). I even like girls a lot more now. I got a cool new Schwinn 10 speed for my birthday. Yay! No
more getting rides to school and having to kiss mom good bye in front of the school. How un-cool!! Now I can ride
my bike. I can't wait. I also got a bunch of new baseball cards. Still didn't get that Steve Garvey card. I just need
that card and I'll have the entire Dodger team. The Dodgers totally rule in baseball. Mom says we'll go to a game
for my birthday. Field box seats. Sweet!!
June 21, 1975: Summer vacation. I'm sooooo bored. Mom has to work all day and I have to watch my brother. All
we do is get up at 10, go out and find our friends, go to the pool, ride our bikes to the liquor store and hang out in
our garage. It was fun for the first week, but now it sucks. I want to go to the beach or something and look at hot
girls.
July 6, 1975: I met a new kid named Larry in our neighborhood. He's really cool. He's going to be in 9th grade next
year and he has a hamster and a TV in his room. He also has this newspaper he calls his "whacking material." I
have no idea what he means. It's a bunch of pictures of naked ladies and some stories. Looks like he's had them
for a long time. I couldn't get to all the pages without ripping them. They were stuck together. Larry says he'll show
me where he got them from so I can get some. We're going to ride bikes over there. Larry is super cool. He's like a
best friend.
July 19, 1975: Something funny happened today. Right when I was done going to the bathroom, my hand
accidentally brushed under my weiner. It felt really weird. Like I was electrocuted or something. I kind of liked it, so
I tried to make it happen again. Nothing happened.
July 20, 1975: I finally got that funny feeling thing to happen again. It took a long time. I had to keep rubbing until I
felt it again. Then something shot out and my weiner went down. I felt really bad after. Like I did something
terrible, like killing someone. I heard that God doesn't want us to touch ourselves, so I prayed for forgiveness right
after I did it. I hope I donâ't do it again. I donâ't want to go to Hell.
July 21, 1975: I only did "it" three times today. I asked Jesus to forgive me everytime. My friend, not Larry cause
he's Jewish, says the Jesus forgives us for our sins all the time. I just have to ask Jesus to come into my heart. So,
I asked him three times today.
August 2, 1975: Me and Larry rode our bicycles to the place to get the newspapers. They were in a rack infront of
a miniature golf place all the way in Santa Ana. It took like forever to get there. My bike is really slow, but Larry
didn't go too fast so I wouldn't get lost. The newspaper cost 50 cents and I didn't have any quarters. I had to go in
to the golf place and ask for change. The guy asked if I was going to use it for the newspaper rack outside. I said
no. I totally lied to the guy. I ran outside and bought one from each rack and got out of there before the guy could
chase us. Fooled him. I couldn't wait to get home and read the newspaper. When I got home, I went right to my
room and started looking at it. My stupid brother kept trying to get in my room, but I laid on the floor and put my feet
against the door so he couldnâ't get in. He's just a little kid so he can't see this adult stuff. The pictures of the girls
are really cool. They have big tits and hairy pussies. Some of the women have their legs spread really wide so you
can see everything. I'm not sure what it looks like up there but it I like it anyway. Of course I did "it" a couple of
times after I got done looking at the pictures. I really think Jesus is going to hate me.
September 9, 1975: Woohoo! I'm an 8th grader now. First day and I saw all my friends. Jim and I have chorus
together again, cool!! I brought my cards to show him what I got over the summer. He forgot his, but he says he'll
bring them tomorrow. He has a moustache now. I just have pimples. . . everywhere. There's a new girl at school
and she's in my history class. Her name is Shelly Hooper and she's really cute. I know this girl who sits next to her
and they were talking. I'm going to have the girl ask Shelly if she likes me. Didn't do "it" at all today. I didn't want
Jesus and God to hate me and make Shelly like someone else.
September 13, 1975: My other best friend, Ron Wills, said he would talk to Shelly for me. I really want to ask her to
go to the first dance with me, so Ron said he would take her a note I wrote for her. He's a great friend. I haven't
done "it" for along time. God should answer my prayers and tell Shelly to go to the dance with me. She's really cute
and the perfect girl for me cause she's tall and skinny. Too bad I'm kind of fat and have zits, but everyone says I'm
smart and funny and easy to talk to.
September 14, 1975: Ron gave Shelly the note and talked to her. She said that she thinks I'm sweet and she really
likes me. Well, she likes me like a friend. She said she would go to the dance but that she's not going with a date.
Ron says I should go and ask her to dance a bunch of times. I'm afraid to slow dance because last time I did, I got a
big boner and had to stand far away from the girl I was dancing with. One time, I got a boner and accidentally
rubbed the girl, I think it was Kim (she's 16 and hottttt). She didn't say anything but she kept dancing really close to
me. I jerked off about three times that night (oh, I heard someone talking about"it" and they called it "jerking off" so
that's what I'm calling it now).
September 16, 1975: I saw Shelly at the dance. I asked her to dance, but she said Ron Wills already asked her.
They slow danced a lot. I wonder if he got a boner? I would have. I asked her later and she said OK, but she only
liked fast songs. They played some disco song and we danced. She was sooooo pretty. Later, she was slow
dancing with Ron W. again. I didn't care. I danced with her and she's going to be my girlfriend.
September 18, 1975: What the fuck? Ron and Shelly are like totally boyfriend and girlfriend now. They're like
holding hands and making out in the hallways. They both have braces. I hope they get stuck together and have to
have the fire department come out and cut them apart. Then I can come in and forgive Shelly and she'll be mine. I
asked Ron what happened. He said that they just started talking (probably about me and what a good guy I am. .
.right!) and then they started kissing and then they were together. Some friend. He said I shouldn't be mad and
come hang out with them at lunch. I dunno. I think I'll play football instead. I went home and looked at my
newspapers. There are some cool pictures of these two ladies kissing and touching each other. I liked that a lot. I
jerked off about 4 times today. I'm kinda sore down there.
Well folks, I'll spare you the rest. It's really quite depressing in its repetitive nature. Funny, it seems all I wrote about
from junior high on, was girls, disappointment, and jerking off. Larry turned out to be gay. One day he asked me to
read the porn rags in his room standing up. We didn't talk much after that. Ron Wills was a band geek (trumpet)
who feathered his hair in high school and made fun of me for wearing a Ramones T-shirt. Yes, he was a pathetic
loser. Shelly Hooper moved after 9th grade and I could have cared less. By the time 8th grade was over, she was
a skinny, no-boobed, zit-faced, braces-wearing, sleaze bag who had a reputation for giving head and picking loser
boyfriends.
What do you mean I sound bitter? More like jealous I wasn't one of those loser boyfriends.
Ah, memories. Think I'll burn that journal.