Oh the Shame.

As part of my birthday festivities last night around 2am, Jamie read me an excerpt from my childhood diary over the phone. This is bad for two reasons: (1) Why on earth does Jamie have my childhood diary and (2) that would make me 9 years old.

CRINGE. While I think the world of him and that he's better than sliced bread and all those other cliche sayings, I have deduced that Jamie must have stolen it from my room and picked the lock (yes, it was one of those with the built in lock). I do not believe that I would have willingly handed it over -- love stupor or not. But, since I know Jamie would never do either of those things...maybe he just got me drunk enough to hand it over.

Needless to say, the entry he read me gushed about my love for Jonathan, the object of my puppy-love at the time, and his new "jerk" girlfriend, and other embarrassing pre-pubescent ramblings.

Promise me I will never look back at this blog with the same shame...