Finally I had to ask Lilly to please go home, because I’d developed a bad headache. She tried to cure it with some shiatsu, which her parents frequently employ on their patients, but it didn’t work. All that ended up happening was that I think she burst a blood vessel or something between my thumb and index finger, since it really hurts.
Now I am determined to start studying, even though it’s Saturday night, and everyone else my age is out having fun.
But haven’t you heard? Princesses never get to have any fun.
HERE IS WHAT I HAVE TO DO
Algebra: review Chapters 1–10
English: term paper, 10 pages, double spaced; utilize appropriate margins; also, review Chapters 1–7
World Civ: review Chapters 1–12
G & T: none
French: revue Chapitres Un–Neuf
Biology: review Chapters 1–12
Write out instructions on how to care for Fat Louie
Christmas/Hannukah shopping:
Mom–Bon Jovi maternity T
Dad—Book on anger management
Mr. G—Swiss Army knife
Lilly—blank videotapes
Tina Hakim Baba—copy of Emanuelle
Kenny—combination TV/VCR (I don’t think this is too extravagant. And no, it’s not guilt, either. He really wants one.)
Grandmère—NOTHING!!!!!!
Paint fingernails (maybe presence of foul-tasting polish will prevent biting them off)
Break up with Kenny
Organize sock drawer
I am going to start with the sock drawer, because that is clearly the most important. You can’t really concentrate on anything if your socks aren’t right.
Then I will move on to Algebra because that is my worst subject, and also my first test. I am going to pass it if it’s the last thing I do. NOTHING is going to distract me. Not this thing with Grandmère, not the fact that four of those seventeen e-mails are from Michael, not the fact that two are from Kenny, not the fact that I am leaving for Europe at the end of next week, not the fact that my mother and Mr. Gianini are in the next room watching Die Hard, my favorite Christmas movie, NOTHING.
I WILL PASS ALGEBRA THIS SEMESTER, and NOTHING IS GOING TO DISTRACT ME FROM STUDYING FOR THE FINAL!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday, December 13, 9 p.m., the loft
I just had to go out and see the part where Bruce Willis throws the explosives down the elevator shaft, but now I am back at work.
Saturday, December 13, 9:30 p.m., the loft
I was really curious about what Michael could possibly want, so I read his e-mails—just his. One was about the supplement (Lilly had told him, and he wanted to know if I was thinking of abdicating, ha ha) and the other three were jokes that I guess were supposed to make me feel better. They weren’t very funny, but I laughed anyway.
I bet Judith Gershner doesn’t laugh at Michael’s jokes. She’s too busy cloning things.
Saturday, December 13, 10 p.m., the loft
HOW TO CARE FOR FAT LOUIE
WHILE I AM AWAY
A.M.:
In the morning, please fill Fat Louie’s bowl with DRY FOOD. Even if there is already food in the bowl, he likes to have some fresh served on top so he can feel like he is having breakfast like the rest of us.
In my bathroom is a BLUE PLASTIC CUP sitting by the bathtub. Please fill that every morning with water from the bathroom sink. You must use water from the bathroom sink, because water from the kitchen sink isn’t cold enough. And you have to put it in the BLUE CUP because that is the cup Fat Louie is used to drinking out of while I am brushing my teeth.
He has a bowl in the hallway outside my room. Rinse that out and fill it with water from the WATER FILTER PITCHER in the refrigerator. It must be water from the WATER FILTER PITCHER because even though New York tap is said to be contaminant-free, it is good for Louie to get at least some water that is definitely pure. Cats need to drink a lot of water to flush out their systems and prevent kidney and urinary tract infections, so always leave lots of water out, and not just by his food bowls, but other places as well.
Do not confuse the bowl in the hall with the BOWL BY THE CHRISTMAS TREE. That bowl is there to discourage Louie from drinking out of the tree holder. Too much tree resin could make him constipated.
In the morning, Fat Louie likes to sit on the windowsill in my room and look at the pigeons on the fire escape. NEVER OPEN THIS WINDOW, but be sure the curtains are open so he can see out.
Also, sometimes he likes to look out the windows by the TV. If he cries while he is doing this, it means you should pet him.
P.M.:
At dinnertime, give Fat Louie CANNED FOOD. Fat Louie only likes three flavors: CHICKEN AND TUNA FEAST (FLAKED), SHRIMP AND FISH FEAST (FLAKED), and OCEAN FISH FEAST (FLAKED). He won’t eat anything with BEEF or PORK. He must have the contents of the can on a new, CLEAN saucer, or he won’t eat. Also, he won’t eat if the contents don’t retain their CANLIKE SHAPE on the plate, so don’t chop up his food.
After eating his canned food, Fat Louie likes to stretch out on the carpet in front of the front door. This is a good time to give him his exercise. When he stretches out, just put your hand under his front legs and straighten them (he likes this) until he bends like a comma. Then dig your thumbs between his shoulder blades and give him a kitty massage. He will purr if you do it right. If you do it wrong you will know, because he will bite you.
Fat Louie gets bored very easily, and when he gets bored, he walks around crying, so here are some games he likes to play:
Take some pieces of CAT TREAT and line them up on top of the stereo for Fat Louie to knock off and chase.
Put Fat Louie in my COMPUTER CHAIR and then hide behind the bookshelf and throw one end of a shoelace over the back of the chair so he can’t see where it is coming from.
Make a FORT out of pillows on my bed and put Fat Louie inside of it and then stick your hand into any openings between the pillows (I recommend wearing an oven mitt during this game).
Put some catnip in an OLD SOCK and throw it to Fat Louie. Then leave him alone for four to five hours, because catnip makes him a little free with his claws.
THE LITTER BOX
Mr. Gianini, this one is for you. Mom must not clean out the litter box or touch anything that may have come in contact with it, or she might develop toxoplasmosis, and the baby might get sick. Always wash your hands in warm, soapy water after changing Fat Louie’s litter box, even if you don’t think you got anything on your hands.
Fat Louie’s box needs to be scooped out EVERY DAY. Always use clumping litter, and then just scoop out the clumps into a Grand Union bag and dispose. Nothing could be simpler. He tends to do number 2 about two hours after his evening meal. You will be able to tell from the odor wafting from his box in my bathroom.
MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL
Remember not to disturb Fat Louie’s SPECIAL AREA BEHIND THE TOILET in my bathroom. That is where he keeps his collection of shiny objects. If he takes something of yours and you find it there, be sure not to take it out while he is looking, or for weeks he will try to bite you every time he sees you. I talked to the vet about it, but she said short of hiring an animal behaviorist at $70/hr there is nothing that can be done. We just have to put up with it.
ABOVE ALL, BE SURE TO PICK FAT LOUIE UP SEVERAL TIMES A DAY AND HUG AND SQUEEZE HIM!!!!! (HE LIKES THIS.)
Saturday, December 13, Midnight, the loft
I can’t believe it’s midnight already, and I am still only on Chapter One of An Introduction to Algebra!
This book is incomprehensible. I sincerely hope whoever wrote it did not make very much money off of it.
I should just go and ask Mr. G what’s going to be on the final.
No, that would be cheating.
Wouldn’t it?
Sunday, December 14, 10 a.m., the loft
Only forty-eight hours until the Algebra final, and I am still on Chapter One.
Sunday, December 14, 10:30 a.m., the
loft
Lilly just came over again. She wants to study for World Civ together. I told her I can’t worry about World Civ when I am only on Chapter One in my Algebra review, but she said we could alternate: She would quiz me on Algebra for an hour, then I could quiz her on World Civ for an hour. I said okay, even though it really isn’t fair: She is getting an A in Algebra, so her quizzing me isn’t really helping her any, while my quizzing her in World Civ helps me study for it, too.
But that’s what friends are for, I guess.
Sunday, December 14, 11 a.m., the loft
Tina just called. Her little brother and sisters are driving her crazy. She wanted to know if she could come down and study here. I said sure.
What else could I say? Besides, she promised to stop at H and H for bagels and vegetable cream cheese. And she said she thought the photos of me in the supplement were beautiful and that I shouldn’t care if people call me a sellout, because I look so hot.
Sunday, December 14, Noon, the loft
Michael told Boris where Lilly is, so now Boris is here, too.
Lilly’s right. Boris really does breathe too loudly. It’s very distracting.
And I wish he wouldn’t put his feet on my bed. The least he could do is take his shoes off first. But when I suggested it, Lilly said that would be a bad idea.
Ew. I don’t know why Lilly puts up with a boyfriend who is not only a mouth breather but also has stinky feet.
Boris may be a musical genius, but he has a lot to learn about hygiene, if you ask me.
Sunday, December 14, 12:30 p.m., the loft
Now Kenny’s here. I don’t know how I am supposed to get any studying done with all of these people around. Plus, Mr. Gianini has decided that now would be a good time to practice his drums.
Sunday, December 14, 8 p.m., the loft
I told Lilly, and she agreed, that once Boris and Kenny showed up, the whole studying thing kind of went down the drain. Plus, Mr. G’s drumming didn’t help. So we decided it would be best to take a study break and go to Chinatown for dim sum.
We had a good time at Great Shanghai eating vegetable dumplings and dried sauteed string beans with garlic sauce. I ended up sitting by Boris, and he really made me laugh, engineering it so that whenever the waiters brought something new, the only empty spot on the table was in front of him, so they had to put it there, and then Boris and I got first dibs on it.
Which made me realize that in spite of the sweaters and the mouth-breathing, Boris really is a funny and nice person. Lilly is so lucky. I mean, that the boy she loves actually loves her back. If only I could love Kenny the way Lilly loves Boris!
But I don’t seem to have any control over who I fall in love with. Believe me, if I did, I would NOT love Michael. I mean, for one thing, he is my best friend’s older brother, and if Lilly ever found out I liked him, she would NOT understand. Also, of course, he is a senior and is graduating soon.
And oh, yeah, he already has a girlfriend.
But what am I supposed to do? I can’t make myself fall in love with Kenny any more than I can make him stop liking me, you know, in that special way.
Although he still hasn’t asked me to the dance. Or mentioned it, anyway. Lilly says I should just call him and be like, “So are we going, or not?” After all, she keeps pointing out, I had the guts to smash up Lana’s cell phone. Why don’t I have the guts to call my own boyfriend and ask him whether or not he is taking me to the school dance?
But I smashed up Lana’s cell phone in the heat of passion. I cannot summon up anything like passion where Kenny is concerned. There is a part of me that doesn’t want to go to the dance with him at all, and that part of me is relieved that he hasn’t mentioned anything about it.
Okay, it is a very small part of me, but it’s still there.
So actually, even though I was having fun sitting by Boris at the restaurant and all, it was also a little depressing, on account of the whole Kenny thing.
And then things got even more depressing. That’s because some little Chinese-American girls came up to me as I was opening my fortune cookie and wanted to know if they could have my autograph. Then they handed me pens and the advertising supplement that had appeared in that day’s Times for me to sign.
I seriously thought about killing myself, only I couldn’t think how I’d do it, except for maybe stabbing myself through the heart with a chopstick.
Instead I just signed the stupid thing for them and tried to smile. But inside, of course, I was FREAKING OUT, especially when I saw how happy the little girls were to have met me. And why? No, not because of my tireless work on behalf of the polar bears or the whales or starving kids. Which I haven’t actually done yet, but I fully intend to do.
No, because I’d been in a magazine in a bunch of pretty dresses, and I’m tall and skinny like a model.
Which is no accomplishment at all!
After that, my headache came back, and I said I had to go home.
Nobody protested very much, I think because everybody realized all of a sudden how much time we’d wasted, and how much studying we all had left to do. So we left, and now I am home again, and my mom says that while I was gone, Sebastiano called four times, AND he had another dress delivered.
Not just any dress, either. It is a dress Sebastiano designed just for me, to wear to the Nondenominational Winter Dance. It’s not sexy. It isn’t sexy at all. It’s dark green velvet with long sleeves and a wide, square neckline.
But when I put it on and looked at my reflection in the mirror in my room, something funny happened:
I looked good. Really good.
There was a note attached to the dress that said,
Please forgive me.
I promise this dress will not make him think of you as his little sister’s best friend.
S.
Which is very sweet. Sad, but sweet. Sebastiano can’t know, of course, that the Michael situation is completely hopeless, and that no dress is going to make any difference, no matter how nice I look in it.
But hey, at least Sebastiano apologized. That’s a lot more, I’ve noticed, than Grandmère has done.
Of course I forgive Sebastiano. I mean, none of it is his fault, really.
And I guess someday I’ll probably forgive Grandmère, since she’s too old to know any better.
But the person I will never, ever forgive is myself, for getting into this situation in the first place. I totally should have known better. I should have told Sebastiano, No photos, please. Only I was so carried away, looking at myself in all those beautiful dresses, that I forgot that being a princess is more than just wearing pretty dresses: It’s being an example to a lot of people . . . people you don’t even know and may not ever even meet.
Which is why if I don’t pass this Algebra test, I am dead.
Monday, December 15, Homeroom
Here are the number of students at Albert Einstein High School who (so far) have felt compelled to make comments to me about my smashing Lana Weinberger’s cell phone last Friday: 37
Here are the number of students at Albert Einstein High School who (so far) have felt compelled to mention my suspension last Friday: 59
Here are the number of students at Albert Einstein High School who (so far) have felt compelled to make comments to me about my appearance in an advertising supplement to The New York Times over the weekend: 74
Total number of comments made to me so far today by students at Albert Einstein High School: 170
Oddly, after wading through all of this, when I got to my locker, I found something that seemed extremely out of place: a single yellow rose, sticking out of the door.
What can this mean? Can there be someone in this school who does not despise me?
Apparently so. But when I looked around, wondering who my one supporter could be, I saw only Justin Baxendale, being stalked (as usual) by a horde of worshipful girls.
I suppose my anonymous rose-leaver must be Kenny, trying to cheer me up. He will not a
dmit it, but who else could it be?
It is Reading Day today, which means we are supposed to spend the whole day—except for lunch—sitting in Homeroom, studying for our finals, which begin tomorrow. This is fine by me, since at least this way, there’s no chance I’ll run into Lana. Her homeroom is on a whole other floor.
The only problem is that Kenny’s in this class. We have to sit alphabetically, so he’s way up at the front of this row, but he keeps passing notes back to me. Notes that say things like, Keep on smilin’! and Hang in there, Sunshine!
He won’t fess up to the rose thing, though.
By the way, want to know the total number of comments made to me so far today by Michael Moscovitz? 1
And it wasn’t even really a comment. He told me in the hallway that my combat boot had come untied.
And it had.
My life is so over.
Four days until the Nondenominational Winter Dance, and still no date.
Distance formula: d – 10xrt
r = 10
t = 2
d = 10 + (10)(2)
= 10 + 20 = 30
Variables are placeholders for numbers (letters)
Distributive law
5x + 5y - 5
5 ( x + y - 1)
2a - 2b + 2c
2 (-1) - 2(-2) + 2 (5)
-2 + 4 + 10 = 12
Four times a number is added to three. The result is five times the number.
Find the number.
Regardes les oisseaux stupides.
Cartesian coordinate system divides the plane into four parts called quadrants