Vintage Tina is a time where I go through entries in my old journals and remind myself of my humble beginnings and the raging angst of my teen years.

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June 1999 (age 15)

Feelings

Sometimes I’m held captive
By my own feelings
These feelings are massive
I can’t just move on

Where should I put these thoughts?
I can’t just push them aside.
Like blood I wish these feelings would clot
But instead they just keep flowing

These feelings hurt me
They feed on me like a savage beast
Eating up my sanity
These feelings are having a feast

How much longer can I take it?
Before I lose my mind?
Just once I want them to go away
So I can let myself unwind

But feelings can’t go away
They stay with me forever
There’s nothing I can do to stop them
These feelings will leave me never

Wow. The “savage beast” simile really makes the poem. Well, the savage beast simile and the inverted syntax in the last line. Bravo 15-year-old, Tina. You were born a poet!

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2002 (age 18)

Fish do not have lips, do they? I don’t think so, but sometimes I think people have fish lips.

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At my piano lesson today we started the song “He’s got the whole world in his hands.” And before my lesson I noticed that the illustration that goes along with it. It’s a pair of hands, holding a clear sphere, with a fetus inside of it! That’s hilarious!

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Eddie Money was kind of frightening. He talked to the audience a lot and it was all pretty dumb. He said, “I LOVE THE 80S” before playing some 80s song. And also he was rambling about children being the future “This is for the children!”
note: pretty sure this was the same concert where he also slapped his ass numerous times.

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June 2003 (age 19)

We’ve decided to make it a tradition to eat at Shakespeare’s and leave notes on our table. (mentioning OJ Simpson). Maurine wrote something like, “my loins burn for your like they burn for OJ Simpson” on her note—and I told her to sign it, “Satan.” I added a p.s. Something like, “don’t forget to pick up our illegitimate love children from their soccer game at 8:00.”

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Last night I dreamt that I was in a rollerskating musical of the Phantom of the Opera, and I fell down a few times.

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I had a dream the other night that a guy named “Pinky” was going to kill me.

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following a money theft at my KFC job:
I saw the cop that is dealing with the whole money situation at KFC, and he had me go to the police station to make a statement. That was weird because I’ve never had to do anything like that. Anyway, I went to the police station again yesterday to take a PSE/psychological stress evaluation/lie detector test

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Before I begin describing yesterday, I want to mention the idea I came up with FROM NOWHERE while I was lying in bed last night:

I can be Bill Cosby for Halloween by finding a really ugly sweater and getting one of those afro wigs—but I would would cut it and put some gray in it. And I probably have to wear a name tag. “Hello My Name Is BILL COSBY.” That would just be funny because I wouldn’t look anything like him and it would be awesome! And then for the following years I should just keep being old black men for Halloween.

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Today at work saw the epitome of old men. He had on some great old man pants—baby blue with some big plaid, a polo shirt that was dark blue and maroon, I think, and a baseball cap decorated like the American flag. It was priceless.

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That’s all for this edition of Vintage Tina.

I leave you with this:

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