Now we are treading in dangerous waters. No life jackets. Pirhanas everywhere. Nibbling. We're moving on to a new journal. The plaid one. The Plaid Years were...well...plaid. All jumbly and going in several directions at once. Why? Because that's what being a college freshman is all about. Everyone around you is saying you're grown up, that you're an adult, but you're not by a long shot. What you really are is a 13th grader masquerading as an adult. I'm sure I thought I was a sophisticated Woman of The World, what with my being away at college and all**, but in reality I was just as much of a kid as most of my friends. I slept with a teddy bear and was still having nightmares about The Day After.I shot video of several journal entries from The Plaid Years, but realised that this one-- the first one-- should just be out on the loose on its own. A side note to the Fathers: Yes. It's true. Your daughters will get older, they will have sex --likely too soon-- and it will be a nightmare for you. They might make some questionable choices in spite of the fact that you've raised them to be strong, smart young women. You can't lock them in the basement. Actually, I guess you could lock them in the basement...Go. Go do it now. Yes. Lock your daughters in the basement. Hurry!
