Young Desperado, who will be your guide?
Have you ever listened to a podcast called Mortified? The premise is this: a middle aged adult on stage reading from his or her high school diary or poetry collection. It's inspirational, it makes me feel better about my own high school diaries, which I recently unpacked while setting up my new office. While I don't expect to do a reading on Mortified, I have threatened to read from one of these old diaries, circa 1996, at an open mic night. I've even gone so far as to visualize it: I'd walk on stage wearing glasses with thick tortoise shell frames and a loosely tied scarf like all female authors seem to do on TV. Once up there I'd shuffle through a stack of bound books, flipping pages wildly until I found just the right entry. Then I'd hold it into the light and the crowd would wait in earnest to hear something brilliant. Then, I'd begin: "He was in Third grade when I was in Kindergarten. I want to marry