For reasons I cannot fathom, my boyfriend from 1989-90 held onto the many “love notes” I wrote him. After reading through them, it is INCREDIBLE to me that he kept all of these for over 23 years. Because THEY ARE TERRIBLE.
And I don’t mean terrible in a “I could totally read these at Salon of Shame” kind of way. There’s no bad poetry, and definitely not enough sappy confessions of teenage romance to be entertaining. They are all utterly mundane. Most of the time, they are just records of what my friends and I are doing while we hang out. Which was to primarily drink and smoke, and watch a lot of TV, apparently.
There are 39 of these notes—a little piece of history from a time when I was still so insecure and emotionally crippled that it’s completely strange to read them and remember what I was like back then. Even stranger: my notes mention people that I don’t even remember knowing. I honestly cannot recall the faces of half the names in the notes.
I was writing these to him because even though I had graduated high school that year, he was a full year younger than me and was still attending. So (wisely, I might add), his mom wouldn’t let us spend the night together. And apparently I thought it was cute to write him notes – although I’m not sure I ever got any back.
I wrote to him a lot from work: a shitty retail job in the Alderwood Mall at a place called “Saturday’s”—hilariously, I thought it was the. Best. Job. Ever. Which didn’t make any damn sense, because they carried kind of upscale popular girl/business woman clothes, and I primarily wore all black, jean shorts, ripped tights, Doc Martens, and t-shirts from The Cult tour. (Not TO work, obviously, I had to wear nice skirts and dresses to work. Duh.) And also, my bosses tended to stand at the counter all day and gossip about everyone else in the mall. For real. This was my 17-year-old life.
Anyway, back to the notes. I re-read all of them. OMFG that was a horrible thing to do. Josh, if you’re reading this, I’d like to apologize for being such a shitty writer.
While I’m only choosing to reprint 1 note here, there are a few things I noted while going through them:
It was apparently very important to me to sign my name with a peace sign above the “I”.
Number of times I refer to myself as a “waver” – 1 (I mean, what.)
Number of times I complain about having to work – at least 14
Number of times I quote a John Hughes movie – 6
Number of times I talk about what I’m wearing – 10
Number of times I try to be clever by using big words – 39
Lyrics from songs that I included in the notes:
Melting Heart – Book of Love
With a Little Love – Book of Love
Should I Stay or Should I go – The Clash
Adore – Prince
There is a Light That Never Goes Out – The Smiths
The Edge of Forever – Dream Academy
Land’s End – Siouxsie and the Banshees
A Wing and A prayer – Mission UK
Tower of Strength – Mission UK
Heaven on Earth – Mission UK
In a Matter of Speaking – Martin Gore
Lovecats – The Cure
And last by not least, some choice quotes:
“We are observing an old Saturday Night Live episode—Really old, like – John Belushi – Dan Akroyd & Bill Murray. It’s pretty hilarious!”
“I need some coffee mass bad. With tons-o-sugar. (buckets of sugar?)”
“Hey it says in this magazine that a doorman at a trendy Manhattan club turned down an underdressed party of three men – it was Michael Hutchence & his friends. I guess that’s what happens when you cut off your hair…” *
“PS: I heard on KXRX the other day that Robert Smith wrote Lovesong” as a wedding present to his wife. Neato!”
*You guys. I don’t even know. I guess I was obsessed with Michael Hutchence’s hair, and when he cut it off, I was devastated.