You know what all the boys are really after....

November 9, 1993 (continued)

...PS: I'm kind of worried that Patrick won't like me because I'm not as good at math as he is. (Even though I got two 100%s) 

First of all- kudos to my parents for helping me believe some boy would like me based on my intelligence. 

Second of all, kudos to myself for ever getting 100% on a math test. Truth be told, my vocabulary is impressive but I add and subtract with my fingers. (little known fact)

Thirdly, if 100% on a MATH test isn't good enough for some boy... well then that boy just isn't good enough for you. God. How many times have I learned THAT lesson? 

...plus i had a penchant for patchwork vests.

Not my proudest achievement. 

Only nine pages in to my journal, ten-year-old Corey had ranked her friends. Not JUST in terms of how much she likes them, but also in terms of how attractive they are. 

The friend list shifts over time to reflect the constantly changing relationships. DIFFERENT PEN COLORS correct the list. I have clearly gone to the trouble to change the list weeks, months later, so instead of staying a reflection of my friendships as they stood on October 27, 1993, they reflect the manically changing friendships of ten year old girls. 

In terms of attractiveness, I rate myself third most attractive in the entire fifth grade. This was not only generous, but delusional. With my  braces (complete with elastics in holiday appropriate colors... fabulously black and orange for Halloween) and oversized ears that were quite possibly large enough to actually weigh down my tiny head, I was probably not even in the top ten. 

But I have to respect the confidence. The journal was totally secret, and a place I was safe to own up to my insecurities. Happily, at ten, I wasn't yet objective. Presumably I felt pretty,  and that meant I must actually BE pretty. 

...where does that feeling of certainly vanish to in your twenties?