In Which I Use the Word Grody Unironically.

December 8, 1995

Bethy,

Guess what? I didn't see Derek Friday last week, this weekend, or ALL this week. He was absent until today and I just didn't see him today-- how sad! My NoblesNet password is "Here", symbolic of Derek being in school again today. I don't want to forget it, I've been changing my passwords a lot lately.

I saw Patrick yesterday and today. Grody!! I hate him soooo much. He's just disgusting. And he looks at me, too (ok, fine, so I look at him....)

I really like these guys: Trevor, Ned, Josh and, of course DEREK!! (no shit, Sherlock). They're all pretty cute, though.

Tess and Hayeley are both a bit bitchy sometimes. They fight a lot- I'm kind of in the middle. Each one expects me to agree with them. I don't know! help!

Ta-ta!

Corey

Things to think about:

1. I seem to have developed a rather severe ADD. That's concerning.

2. NoblesNet. My high school's own little 90s internet system. I just like the mention of it in here. It's so adorable. And my password was Here. Here. Because you know, in the 90s you could have a four-word, no numbers or symbols password. NOSTALGIA.

3. The word grody. Which I seem to have used un-ironically.

4. The fact that I already think my ex-boyfriend is "grody". This is surprising only if you have not met me.

5. Of the guys I list in this entry as guys I like, I ended up dating two of the four of them. I think those are some solid odds.

6. How did I know that Derek was out of school for a few days? He's a senior and I'm a seventh grader. Did I ask around?? Was I legitimately stalking him? It's possible I was even crazier than I thought.

New Year, Same Cruelty.

January 1, 1994

Dear Bethy,

Hi! Guess what... It's 1994. My new year's resolution is this: I'm  going to look on the bright side of things- you know, try not to be so depressed and worried about every little thing. 

I'll finish up my friend list:

Corrine: Corrine is kind of a snob. She has dirty blonde hair- shoulder length but much thinner than mine. She looks really skinny but she's not. 

I guess that's it!

Later!

Corey

Oh... oh god. I really never realized I even thought about skinniness at this age.... I mean, I weighed about as much as your average 5 year old, so it couldn't have been competitiveness... What does it even mean that she looks skinny but she isn't?? Does she have some hidden stomach only I have seen? Does she dress so well that she looks super skinny but is actually obese? 

As for my New Year's resolution... I wonder how many times I have made this exact resolution. And at ten I was pretty happy... I mean, high school hadn't even happened yet. If I think I'm depressed at age ten, I can't imagine how I describe my state of being at age 16....

IT'S BECAUSE THEY DON'T LIKE YOU, COREY!

December 12, 1993

Dear Bethy,

I guess I'll  tell you about square dancin' on Friday. First Ms. Mackey made me dance with Dan. Then Mike picked me (I wonder why I was the last one picked...) Then I picked Connor. It was so-so.

Yours,

Corey

I can just see myself trying to think of complicated reasons why all the boys didn't pick me to dance with... clearly they all have crushes on me... so what could it be? Hm. It's a thinker, that's for sure. 

It's like waiting for a volcano to explode... when oh when will I finally realize the boys don't like me? What does it take for good old fashioned self doubt to kick in?

Also, I asked CONNOR to dance? CONNOR of the evil comments and horrible reputation? Is it possible.... the lady doth protest too much? Did ten year old Corey have a hidden thing for... BAD BOYS?? 

stay tuned. 

Nice People Are Still Scary.

November 22, 1993

Dear Bethany, 

Hi! Today I had tutering with Mrs. Betley. It was fun but kinda easy. I always get nervous that I won't know what to say around her or that I'll mess up. 

Ok. The "tutering" I had with Mrs. Betley obviously did not cover spelling. 

If I was hoping to uncover the reasons for my fear of authority in this journal it appears I have struck out. I was apparently already afraid of my teachers by the time I started writing. Mrs. Betley was the most wonderful, kind, blonde haired, big boned, loving teacher in the entire elementary school (which actually isn't saying much. There were only about 370 kids in grades K-6.) 

But her kind-fairy-godmother-motherly-wonderful-woman-who-would-bake-you-cookies-if-it-was-appropriate demeanor didn't stop me from being scared of her. 

It took two years cocktailing at a mafia run comedy club to finally learn how to stand up to authority. Too bad ten year olds can't cocktail. Helps build a backbone. If nothing else. 

short blonde vs. new england bad boy biker

November 5, 1993

Dear Bethany, 

...Today we had Worldly Wise which is a vocab test. I had finished my first part and was on the second when...Connor says "Corey you finished the first part?" I sarcastically answered, "No! I'm just doing this for fun!" Then Connor goes, "Corey, learning isn't going to help you grow." I started crying. 

Here's the thing: I know lots of short people who are totally cool with it. But I read this entry, and I still feel sad about it. Since I didn't go through the elementary school trauma of being a geek or overweight or wildly unpopular, I forgot about the tiny daily pains and cruelties. 

In my mind, Connor still looks like a motorcycle riding, bad boy, ladies' man (Think Danny in "Grease"). In my head he has tattoos and leather jackets and a bad attitude. Maybe a cigarette. Truthfully, I never saw Connor past the age of twelve, and while at some schools this would be enough time to acquire a leather jacket and cigarette, at my tiny suburban New England town, that just wasn't likely. 

I'd love to see a picture of Connor at ten years old when he tormented me with these comments. I'm sure he's adorable. I'd love to see Connor now. I hope he's a veterinarian or social worker or nurse. I'd love to be so terribly wrong about someone. 

As for myself? I'm glad I had the gift of sarcasm and knew its irrefutable power at such a young age. I'm even more impressed that I smartly coupled it with the distinct power of little blonde girl tears.  A killer combination, and one I am not ashamed to still use when necessary. 

The Kittie Journal

I would like to tell the story of how I got the kittie journal. I would like a touching memory of my mother and father handing me a diary and telling me to write my dreams and wishes in its private pages. I would like to think my first entry in my sixteen year relationship with diaries and journals started with the explanation of why and how I started keeping a diary. Instead, my first entry is a vivid, detailed account of my first major crush, Patrick (all names changed to protect the innocent. As well as my mortified ten year old self who would never forgive me.) 

Dear Bethany,

Today I'll talk about PATRICK.... When we worked on the newspaper he was always showing off and typing so fast that he made mistakes. Of course he's one of the smartest in the grade and AMAZING in math. 

Luckily, this first entry also reveals that Patrick liked me as "more than a friend"! Is there anything better than being ten and having the boy you like like you back? If I remember correctly my best friend, Diana, passed him a note in class asking him to check off his feelings for me putting them in the correct category. Diana and I spent the weekend creating this ingenious system, giving him options like "A. Ew, Corey's gross; B. She's my friend; C. She's more than a friend; D. I love Corey. 

All things considered, "more than a friend" was acceptable. My expectations were at least realistic when I was ten. I also apparently had the same desire to have clearly delineated emotions. There was very little room for ambivalence or confusion. My description of Patrick is exuberant without any angst or understanding of his faults. Even his typing mistakes were reason to love him more. 

At least Patrick was smart. And a red-head.