Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

I'm in Long Island once again. Tonight for some strange reason I feel like getting on the train. It's not like I want to go to the city for any reason at all, I just feel like being in transit. I am not excited about being here, I don't feel like talking about J.Crew sweaters or "drop tops" or khaki pants or running sneakers. I want to hang with RT Philie and Bobby. I want to go to a show, do a zine. Jesse and Paul Marshall made me feel shitty for wanting to do a zine the other day, like I was copying Paul or something. Jesse can be so mean sometimes. I hate him when he gets like that. Today I saw squatter Gloria at the mall working at Betsey Johnson. She told me she was going out with the famous photographer Richard Kern. Where is this special underground club for beautiful people located and can I come? Yeah right, such a place does not exist. I am embarrassed that I ever wore baggy pants and Polo gear and puffy jackets. I knew I would be someday. I just got so sick of the punk rock competition that no one talks about, but it's there, at every show and in every zine. Let's face it, LIHC is full of jocks. XXX white boy oooh oooh oooh. Some possible titles for my zine or anything else: 1. Fear and Loathing in Long Island
2. The Poison Ivy League
3. Cheerleaders on Crack
4. I've Missed Out On Everything… 2004

I ended up calling my term paper about suburban rave culture "Fear and Loathing in Long Island" and "The Poison Ivy League" ultimately became the title of my fanzine. "I've Missed Out On Everything" was the title to my entire life, and "Cheerleaders On Crack," zinger that it is, was never used for anything. When I was 14 I made a boring fanzine called "Pennies From Heaven," which was filled with pre-teen faux riot grrly things, like that Winnie-The-Pooh, saddle shoes and Tiger Trap vibe. I made a lot of pen pals from girls around the country who were exactly like me—insecure, angry, and confused. My favorite zine was called Gogglebox, written by this girl Jenn who lived this awesome life (it seemed). Going to Columbia and being a crusty punk. She wrote about hopping trains and making out with chicks and skateboarding. It inspired me to do my own personal zine, and I included cute things like "High School Bedroom Vs. College Bedroom" and reviews of my friends. It was your basic cut-and-paste jammer, accompanied by a typewriter. Jesse isn't mean at all (to me) anymore, and after I made out with Paul Marshall in the bathroom, I pretty much never heard from him again. Long Island is still full of LIHC jocks. But if you live there and you hate it, make a zine about it.