As a result of my lack of both stage ­presence and flair for the dramatic, my somewhat funny story is bogged down in monotonic purgatory. An actor, I'm not. "Let me interrupt real quick," says Nadelberg. "You're almost reading it in a way that makes it hard to get invested in it from a stranger's perspective. You're reading in a way that a third-grade kid is instructed by his teacher to read in front of the class. I feel like you're not necessarily in tune with it yet. Try to bring out you more in terms of your personality. If the emotion behind those words was enthusiasm or sadness, try to show that a little more." I continue on but don't improve much. Doesn't the material speak for itself?

February 8, 1984: Today, Victor told the whole fifth grade that I kissed Tommy, and he also told my math teacher, and he said he was going to put it in the newspaper. If he does, I will put something mean about him in it. I think my relationship with Tommy will last longer since I kissed her.

Well, not always. Though Nadelberg and Katcher don't write any of the material - it's always taken verbatim from childhood scribbles - there is an editing process. This is entertainment, after all. So funnier stuff is extracted and condensed to a quick and concise dialogue until the producers are convinced it will not only hold an audience's attention but keep them in stitches as well. Therefore, wannabe actors and comedians have a leg up on social workers from UCLA and writers from American Way.

"Though the idea is deceptively simple, we are in no way an open-mike, teen-diary free-for-all," says Nadelberg, who goes by the title of creator-producer-angstologist. "And while our show is certainly not rocket science, there is a lot going on behind the scenes in terms of shaping each piece for the stage. We craft each piece into unique autobiographical tales that we call a 'diagraphy.' It's a very odd transformation process - ­comedic, cathartic, and creepily voyeuristic."