Further pre-pubescent ramblings

This is possibly the closest I could get to public humiliation (actually, who am I trying to kid, I could get a lot more humiliated than this, quite easily), but there’s something so innocent and enthusiastic about what I’m about to share that I couldn’t resist it.

Remember how last weekend I delved into my diaries? Well, there were a whole host of unexpected surprises in the box – in addition to the holiday diaries that proved to be so illuminating – not least an envelope marked ‘Random Diary Pages’. This contained a diary that my sister (I think, but it could’ve been me) had torn the cover off, as well as extracts from a holiday journal from 1991 and some very random pages of nonsense including the start of a story, some cartoon-like drawings of primary school companions and this…

You can probably read it if you click through, but if you can’t be bothered, this is the gist:

I, Elizabeth Lesiele [spelt wrong!] Clutterbuck vow that in at least 15 years time, I shall be competing in ice dancing at the Olympics. I have decided this after watching Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean skate to Bronze at Lilahammer [also spelt wrong]
Hopefully I shall be able to bring home a GOLD medal! 

Oh dear. At least, aged 12, I had some sort of ambition – albeit a totally unachievable one! For one thing, I was rubbish (still am) at basic ice skating, let alone trying to leave the ice while jumping and pirouetting. For another, 15 years from 1994 would have made me 27 – which is old for an ice dancer – and 2009 wasn’t even a Winter Olympics year. Nevermind. 
Having read this gem, I wonder what my actual ambitions were at that age. I do remember a year previously declaring in a RS lesson (I’ve no idea how the topic came up) that I wanted to be Linzi Hately, who at that point was appearing as The Narrator in Joseph in the West End – I’d say this was possibly more doable than my ice dancing ambitions. It’s also possible that I still wanted to be Kylie Minogue, albeit in her new mid 90s more risqué incarnation. But there is nothing practical that springs to mind, clearly all I aspired to was Winter Olympic glory, the West End stage or popstardom – I guess that’s fairly typical for a 12 year old. 
It has to be said that re-reading these early diaries has been highly amusing and illuminating. There’s nothing more reassuring than realising how much you’ve changed (for the better) since your pathetic teenage days of writing about angst, reports, music and more angst. However, there is definitely nothing more depressing than realising that in some ways you’ve not changed at all and have simply repeated the same mistakes over and over for 16 years! 
On reflection, perhaps I ought to formulate a plan for these diaries once I’m gone. I don’t think I want the otherwise model archive I’ll leave behind to be tainted by these lunatic ramblings… 


  1. I found my earliest diaries recently. They were written when I was 10. I must have dreamt of becoming a meteologist as all I wrote about was the weather. 365 entries of raining today, sunny today etc etc! Us English learn from a young age to be weather obsessed !

  2. I was really surprised that mine (especially the holiday ones) didn’t mention weather more! The only reference I found was to some massive thunderstorm in Germany – which is kind of understandable!

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