< by Jill >

I started journaling in 4th grade, recording every ridiculous nuance of my life in a spiral-bound notebook with a furry tiger-print cover. As part of my daily practice, I adhered to a few rules: only write in highlighter, always use code names for boys, and begin each entry with a list.

As time has passed, the highlighter has faded and the code-names have lost their attachment to real people. Who was Arthur? We may never know. Nonetheless, most of the lists remain visible if you squint. This week I’ll share a few of the best. If you grew up in the 90s and/or ever experienced the middle-school blues, they’ll be sure to tickle your funnybone.