Little Green Diary

I've unearthed it from my top bureau drawer. A gift from my friend Lorraine, it is 5 inches high and 3 3/4 inches wide. The cover has FIVE-YEAR DIARY in gold letters. A lot of the pages are loose now. It had a little key but I lost it. It began in 1973 [when I was 12] and I kept it on and off through 1976.

There are no entries at all for '77--but by then I was 16! Too bad, b/c some of the things my 12-year-old self had dreamed of came true that year.

I only had four lines per day per year, so I had to abbreviate my facts, good practice for a reporter. M and D meant Mom and Dad. G and G was Granny and Grandpa, who lived right in our town, and I was my friend Irene.

I turned to February 24. This is what is says:

1973: I miss "I." I had fun at skating lessons. Sis and I went to Bergenfield. At night we went to Granny's.

1974: I sang in 9:00 choir. Sis took the bus home. I know I'll miss her. Dad, Sis and I visited G & G. Mom and I went to the potluck supper with Mrs. Blake and Nancy. I saw Irene, and Lorraine called.

Isn't it so funny? I used to record who called, what my school grades were, when I washed my hair and especially if I or a friend got a new haircut.

Today, Fig and her friends communicate so much via text, Facebook and video chats that I doubt they would ever report on a phone call, like the ones I made on our clunky black rotary phone in the living room. No privacy at all [not like my lucky friend, Moey, who got a Princess phone in a pretty color for her bedroom].

Here's a great book about a diary: The Red Leather Diary: Reclaiming a Life Through the Pages of a Lost Journal . It's written by Lily Koppel, who found the diary when she was a young writer for the NY Times. I couldn't put her book down.

It's about a New York City girl from years ago named Florence. Small world: It turns out that Florence's nephew lives right in my town. We used to live in the same apartment building, and now we see each at Starbucks or on the #66 bus from New York. To him, Florence is a colorful aunt. To me, she's an incredibly fascinating story.

Other fine diary snooping: A Boy I Once Knew, written by my Memoir-Writing teacher, Elizabeth Stone. It's about the personal diaries that a former student left her in his will. Again, a page-turner.

I guess diaries are that way, because they tell such intimate tales.