Journal Number 4: More Cats

Yep. this is journal number four. I really, really liked cats. Like, a lot.

So onto the first entry in the SECOND cat journal.

November 20, 1995

Bethy!!

Oh my god!! Today was the best day of my life! I didn't have Spanish, Latin I had a test which I felt pretty good about. English was fun. Science was okay. Arts was Awesome! Growth Ed was, um, well, Growth Ed-ish. Math we played Jeopardy. Then I was out of school and GUESS what I did at lunch. I asked Derek to the senior-sixie dance. And he was SO COOL. He did a "victory run" around Gleason Hall. He danced around and joked around and said it totally made his day. I was SO touched. He is the coolest guy on earth!! How VERY exciting.

Also, I had almost no homework and to top it all off, 15 minutes ago, Patrick called. I was sooooo surprised. He sounded so cute. The only thing is, since it was getting sort of uncomfortable I said I was "kinda in the middle of something" and maybe it was my imagination but he sounded kinda mad/sad. So tomorrow Diana is gonna tell him how sorry I was but my mom and I were in a fight and she was screaming at me to get off the phone (not true but it sounds awesome). I felt SO bad though. He really did seem upset. Oh well. It's (hopefully) not anything big. It's probably not very important. I was thinking maybe it had to do with, like, he wanted to tell me something (like "I love you"-- I wish) and I didn't give him the chance. oops! That would be very bad. I would KILL myself if that was the case. I won't worry though. It was probably nothing. And if it was important, Diana will find out. from him and tell me. Maybe he hates me for being a dull conversationalist. DON'T WORRY COREY.

Maybe I don't care. I think I do. Am I supposed to be SURE about this kind of thing?

I like Derek-- but in a different way!! He rules!

Peace and Love,

Corey

A short and disturbing explanation about who Derek is and what the "senior-sixie" dance is. The Senior-Sixie dance (which i'm sure no longer exists) was an event at school where Seniors and Seventh graders go as dates and hang out together all night. Unfortunately, as seventh graders got more and more promiscuous, the okay-ness of this event went downhill and by the time I was a senior, I'm pretty sure it no longer existed. (or no one asked me, which I find impossible to believe. I was the only senior in the seventh-graders height range!)

So Derek, an eighteen-year-old senior becomes my number one interest for the rest of seventh grade, and he gives me more attention than my "boyfriend" ever did.

And, spoiler alert, Patrick dumps me a week after this journal entry. Which begs the question-- did he intend to dump me during this phone call? Or was that phone call his last attempt at having a real relationship with me, a test I obviously failed? Is it fucked up that I'm still kind of agonizing over this very question?

WHAT WAS THAT PHONE CALL? WHAT DID IT MEAN? Please weigh in on whether this was a last-ditch effort to save our "relationship" or if this was Patrick's failed first attempt to dump me. 28-year-old Corey is still dying to know.

I SHOULD be popular, and other musings.

November 8, 1995

Dear Bethany,

Did you ever notice that once a person is popular enough the don't really care about anyone else. They forget who they were and concentrate on who they are. Did you ever notice that when someone is popular enough they control you. They play with your feelings. Almost as if they're playing tennis and your heart is the tennis ball. They don't care what they do to you-- as long as your response back works for them.

Did you ever notice how you are never the one in charge. Everyone cares about the popular one-- but no one gives a shit about you. The popular one's friend-- the sidekick. Never the first. The second.

Ever notice that when you say something funny no one laughs but when someone loved by everyone says the same thing ten seconds later, the class is in hysterics, like they said it better. Why is that? Is it that people don't care about the way you think? Or are you just a play thing, a joke.

You're a nice starting place, a home base. But never the real friend. You're ALWAYS the one the popular can turn to if no one else is around... and you can count on them to be there when you're overdue for some insults.

Ever notice that no one cares about your feelings?

Have you ever noticed that no one notices?

SUCH an annoying day. EVERYONE, including Hayley, was dissing me so bad and everyone else laughed and NO ONE stood up for me. WHY AM I NOT AS POPULAR AS HAYLIE AND KATIE?

I have tons of friends, but I don't have any popularity. I have some problem. Everyone is against me. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Peace (kinda) and Love (I don't have any),

Corey

Has there ever been a more quintessential middle school moment than expressing, at long last, the thought: "Everyone is against me"? I have no memory of writing this entry, although judging from the language and sentiment, it sounds like one of the worst days of my entire life, thus far.

I like that this is written as more of an essay than a journal entry. There's such an obviously strong desire for this to be SMART, and that's what I love-hate about 12-year-old Corey. She so badly wants to be smart and articulate and artsy and dramatic. She gives in to the angst.

And to be fair, it WAS totally unfair that Hayley ended up being more popular than me. Yes, I wore multi-colored vests and a total lack of social finesse, but Hayley was no beauty queen or genius or charmer. She was just a girl who knew that being mean and putting someone else down was a great way to get ahead. I could be a total bitch one-on-one, and pretty effing high maintenance, but I was never mean to anyone in a crowd.

And that, I'm pretty sure, is the dividing line between popular and unpopular.

As for my journal entry: I know I'm not the first person to use a tennis match as a metaphor for my feelings, but I applaud the effort.

Don't worry little Corey. Everyone secretly thinks Hayley is annoying, and in sixteen years you won't remember this day anyways.