Sunday, November 27, 2011

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

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,

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.


  1. Who knows what his intentions were--all I know is that "Patrick" got married last weekend. (...and he got one of the long announcements in the NYT wedding section!)End of an era. Let's hope his behavior is less ambiguous with his wife.

  2. OMG. I should warn her about his totally confusing phone calls. and all the other things i know about him. like that he likes the tazmanian devil. i mean i knew that kid WELL.

  3. I'm not sure I have an opinion on the fight because I am WAY TOO DISTURBED by the notion of the Senior-Sixie dance. *clutches pearls*

  4. @brandy: I'm with you! I mean at the time I was so innocent and it seemed so normal, but looking back... terrible idea. terrible.

  5. TERRIBLE idea! Who thought of that? Yikes! As for our friend Patrick...I just don't know.

  6. Relationship test. You failed. Hard. Of course he was freaked out by the notion of his girl running off with some MAN of 18. This senior-sixie dance was little more than an opportunity for young lads to have their hearts ripped from their ribcage, shredded and burned. Then only a few years later, embittered, callous and indifferent, they can inflict the same pain on their younger brothers-in-arms behind them. It's a vicious cycle, one into which you helplessly swept by virtue of your 7th grade charms.
    Or, he needed your math homework.