Okay, I'm looking at a diary I wrote when I was twelve, in 1984. I was writing the full history of a shunning perpetrated by my all-girl, all-geek social group the previous summer. I go through the history of my friendship with this one girl, W, which began in first grade, and here we join my journal already in progress. Comments from a 30-y-o me are in brackets:

Chapter 2
The Party
My 12th birthday party. Party people consisted of [8 names omitted to protect the semi-innocent]. PL brought her Duran Duran folder. Everyone was looking at it. I was trying to start a game, but everyone was too enthralled in their faces and facts. W was talking to FA. The next morning, W said, "Well, me and F are getting to be real good friends."
F didn't feel that way.

Chapter 3: The Present
From a month ago to today

W is not popular this year. Everyone woke up and realized what an asshole she was. She was kicked out of two lunch tables, so she went to me for help. We had to let her in. She was really annoying. She has only been there for 4 days and we are sick of her.
Favors: There was a concert. We HAD to take W an hour early. We HAD to babysit her on a school night until midnight [this is terribly unfair of me; she lived alone with her overworked single mom!]. And the latest: Tomorrow night, her mom is going out. She MAY sleep over our house. She called me, and asked if I could play tomorrow. I said no, I might be going to the flea market with my friend. She asked which friend. I said K. She told me to ask her if she could come along! [I know, what a bitch, right?] I called. She wasn't home. S [my sister] called her at 10 o'clock. She asked if she could play. She couldn't S hung up the phone. Before that, S had told her that we had a Quaker potluck and wouldn't be back until 9 or 9:30. Well, W promptly got upset and said, "I'm going to be alone in a house from 5:00 to maybe even 10:00 or 10:30? Why can't I come!"
S asked mom. She said it would be a good time to get W and F's relationship straight [My mom really said that? The hell?]. Mom talked it over with Dad. Yes, she could go. But remember this is a person that thinks quaker meetings are people kneeling in a circle and praying in a church. [God, I was such a snob.] The catch is that W has to do everything she says. And if she's bothering us, I just tell mom.
Finally, today.
Dec. 15. Potluck day. She is sleeping over here tonight. I mist hide this.
I'm back. Nothing happened! We're still all friends. Rats.

[that's not the end of the journal, though. To be continued...]