The Sunset Strip Diaries Read Online Free PDF Page A

script. We ate Doritos, drank Diet Pepsi, and sometimes her dad got us Value Packs at McDonald’s. I always got Chicken McNuggets with barbecue sauce and she got a Filet-O-Fish. We then spied on the boys in her condo complex; all of whom were skaters.
     
    At that time, skaters were guys who not only rode a skateboard, but wore very specific T-shirts featuring different surfboard companies, such as Town & Country, Local Motion and Maui and Sons . Skaters liked New Wave/Pop type of music; they were not into any sort of rock. They were more on the conservative side, with short hair and long bangs usually over one eye. They were tan, fit, and usually smoking hot. You never saw a fat skater.
     
    Karen and I perked up if we heard skateboard wheels. We were such nerds though, that we couldn’t just say hi to boys. We would do something like throw rocks at them or start a fight with them somehow. We were really immature because we were deathly shy. She was even worse than I was. I wanted to see one guy in particular named Jim. He was drop dead gorgeous with bright blue eyes and dark hair. He was so good looking, it hurt . I thought my underwear would burst into flames. I remember watching a girl flirting with him. I was in awe of her for having the confidence to talk to him, unlike me who hid and sounded like Igor in a cave.
    In any case, I had a little boost of confidence from Mark Poletti and his aftershave. I ventured out of my room and even out of the house a little bit. I tried flirting with boys on my own street. They didn’t shoot me down. I got a few smiles and some romantic tension with a boy named Chad. It was enough for me to feel happy. In between water balloon fights and crank calls, Karen, Becky and I watched video after video on MTV. Karen and I fell in love with a group called Bananarama and their remake of “Venus.” It was the first tape I bought. My sister got into Bon Jovi and David Lee Roth. We lived for music. It was the backdrop of everything exciting we felt inside : all of the possibilities with boys, all of the butterflies.

CHAPTER TWO
    The Choice
     
    Eighth grade was no joy, but it was better than seventh grade. I was full of angst. Just thinking about it makes me want to take some Valium. I was back to staying in my room with the door closed, and all I did was write in my diary and daydream about boys. I guess that is pretty typical. I read Wuthering Heights for a book report and got totally obsessed with it. I was suddenly writing in my diary as if I was on the moors with Heathcliff. I wanted romance; I wanted to be in love. I was writing things like, “If all else perished and he remained, I should continue to be!”   I was completely boy crazy. The difference between my boy craziness and other girls my age was that they were boy crazy while talking to actual boys at The Galleria or Skateland. I was boy crazy behind the closed doors of my room, and I wanted to shout from rooftops and wear flowing gowns on mountainsides while being boy crazy.
     
    For the first half of the school year, I was still pretty innocent as far as my thoughts and interests were concerned. I became really interested in old film stars, like Rita Hayworth, Barbara Stanwyck, Marilyn Monroe and Natalie Wood. I hung up their black and white pictures and wished I could do my hair and makeup like theirs. They were so glamorous in sparkling gowns, shiny hair styled in waves, and long eyelashes.
     
    My mom got me a big fat Warner Brothers Studios coffee table book for Valentine’s Day that year. She saw me fawning over it at a bookstore and decided to get it for me, along with a jar of peppermint candies. I loved the book and what it held in it. It was pictures of a different time. I felt homesick for it. I had recently watched Meet Me in St. Louis and Little Women and they made me long to be in another decade. I felt pain in my heart at the voices of the actors and actresses, their attire, the sets and the songs. Things like