I have had a request by a reader for more. So more I will bring you! (said with a British accent)

I was petrified that my mother would read my diary. I did NOT want her to see the salacious things I was admitting to.  Apparently I didn’t think that putting a list of explanations or codes on the inside cover would throw her off the scent.
I clearly thought Vicki was a total idiot when I was 10.
I was the idiot because as I grew older I slowly learned that my Mother knew everything. Like EVERYTHING. She was freaking psychic.
She knew what alcohol I drank- even after I threw it up, who I was out with and what time I snuck out of the house.
Here is a photo of Karla’s Brilliant Diary Key:

notice the beautiful cursive.

Yup- that says…..Mr X = domonic
My readers…..They are one in the same.
Like “Mr Big” before Carrie/the writers came up with that iconic term.
I was way ahead of my time.
It also describes how my diary broken up into 3 sections via page color was:
yellow- regular section/everyday
green- private
red (pink)- problems

AT 10, IN 1986 I HAD PROBLEMS. YEAH.
I also had stuff that was “private”.
I also thought I may forget who I was referring to when I wrote about Mr X because with the plethora of  boys mentioned I may get confused.
Tramp.

Dominic was the new kid and I had to make him my boyfriend.  He had gorgeous black curly hair that had me in lust instantly. I love men with black curly hair to this day because of him.  Of course I NEVER let on that I liked the cocky kid. It would ruin my bad ass, tough girl rep. I wasn’t going for the lesbian thing but friends tell me I was a bully and the “block protector” so I went with it.

Below is the excerpt from an event with Dominic:


June 2, 1986
Dear Diary,
Sorry I wrote so late but now I’m going to write in you every day. Even at camp.
Now to talk about more exciting things. 
A few weeks ago Mr. X winked at me and challenged ME, the fastest runner in the class
to a race!!!!
I just cannot believe that he didn’t show up.
But neither did I.
Karla

So modest.
and so weird.
Who taught him to wink at girls? Probably Dominic’s grandpa and it sure worked on me.

From a young age I was quite the athlete.  I am also an Aries with Leo rising and born in the year of the Dragon so I am INSANELY competitive. Probably the worst combo ever for a woman any man would ever want to be involved with hence the lesbian vibe.

I took Dominic’s challenge.  At a later date we both decided to actually show up. We met after school in the parking lot and I beat his ass. Unfortunately besting my one true love in front of the entire 2nd grade wasn’t the thing that was going to win his heart. I embarrassed him thoroughly.
I distinctly remember lunging down on the rough, hot blacktop. Placing my hands on the gravel preparing to fly through the alleyway the crowd made for us. I could hear my breathing… heavy because curlyboy was super close to me.
I was nervous. I was fast though. Really fast.
Running from the cops/gangs/ mean, older sister of my best friend Danielle honed my skills. ‘Steal the Bacon’ helped a lot with my training as well.
My muscles tensed….my converse were sliding and trying to grip the floor for take off…..Stray blonde hairs escaped from my headband and flew in my eyes obstructing my view of the chain link fence in front of me that I HAD to touch first.
I had to.
I had to impress him.
I had to make him finally see me as something other than a ponytail to pull. The surrounding kids cheered for their respective favorites. That’s what we did in Queens, NY. We raced on foot for glory in the parking lot after school. I was challenged by a BOY.
One that I longed for….I had no choice, no other option.
I had to win.

I won the race.
I lost the boy.

Hiding behind a coy giggle was not my version of flirting.
Whooping his ass and emasculating him was.

Its okay. Don’t fret.
Mr X eventually moved to Florida and John, the Greek came along.