Meg Cabot - Princess in the Spotlight

Me: No, I wouldn’t have.

Lilly: Yes, you would have. Because to you, Hank is your whiny, allergy-prone cousin from the boondocks who doesn’t even know what a bagel is. But I, you see, was able to look beyond that, to the man Hank had the potential to become. . . .

Michael: Yeah, a man who is destined to have his own pin-up calendar.

Lilly: You, Michael, are just jealous.

Michael: Oh, yeah. I’ve always wanted a big picture of myself in my underwear hanging up in Times Square.

[Actually, I think that is something I would really enjoy seeing, but Michael was, of course, being sarcastic.]

Michael: You know, Lil, I highly doubt Mom and Dad are going to be so impressed by your tremendous act of charity that they’re going to overlook the fact that you skipped school to do it. Especially when they find out you’ve got detention next week because of it.

Lilly: (looking long-suffering) The most eleemosynary are often martyred.

And that was it. That’s all he said to me, all day. ALL DAY.

Note to self: look up eleemosynary

POSSIBLE REASONS MICHAEL WON’T ADMIT HE IS JO-C-ROX

1. He really is too shy to reveal his true feelings for me.

2. He thinks I don’t feel the same way about him.

3. He’s changed his mind and doesn’t like me after all.

4. He doesn’t want to have to bear the social stigma of dating a freshman and he is just waiting until I am a sophomore before asking me out. (Except that by then he’ll be a freshman in college and won’t want to bear the social stigma of dating a high school girl.)

5. He isn’t Jo-C-rox at all and it turns out I am obsessing about something written by that guy from the cafeteria who has the thing about corn.

HOMEWORK

Algebra: none (no Mr. G!)

English: finish Day in a Life! Plus Profound Moment!

World Civ: read and analyze one current event from Sunday Times (200 wd minimum)

G&T: don’t forget the dollar!

French: pg. 120, huit phrases (ex. A)

Biology: questions at end of Chapter 12—get answers from Kenny!

ENGLISH JOURNAL

A Day In My Life by Mia Thermopolis

(I chose to write about a night instead.

Is that okay, Mrs. Spears?)

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31

3:16 p.m.—Arrive home at SoHo loft with bodyguard (Lars). Find it ostensibly empty. Decide mother probably napping (something she does a lot these days).

3:18 p.m.–3:45 p.m.—Play foozball with bodyguard. Win three out of twelve games. Decide must practice foozball in spare time.

3:50 p.m.—Curious as to why riotous game of foozball—not to mention incredibly loud pinball machine—have not awakened mother from nap. Knock gently on bedroom door. Stand there hoping door does not open and reveal view of mother actually sharing bed with Algebra teacher.

3:51 p.m.—Knock louder. Decide perhaps cannot be heard due to intense lovemaking session. Sincerely hope I will not be inadvertent witness to any nakedness.

3:52 p.m.—After receiving no response to my knock, i go into mother’s bedroom. No one is there! Check of mother’s bathroom reveals crucial items such as mascara, lipstick, and bottle of folic acid tablets missing from medicine cabinet. Begin to suspect something is afoot.

3:55 p.m.—Phone rings. I answer it. It is my father. Following conversation ensues:

Me: Dad? Mom’s missing. And so is Mr. Gianini. He didn’t even come to school today.

Father: You still call him Mr. Gianini even though he lives with you?

Me: Dad. Where are they?

Father: Don’t worry about it.

Me: That woman is carrying my last chance at having a sibling. How can i help but worry about her?

Father: Everything is under control.

Me: How am I supposed to believe that?

Father: Because i said so.

Me: Dad, I think you should know, I have some very serious trust issues concerning you.

Father: How come?

Me: Well, Part of it might be the fact that up until about a month ago, you had lied to me for my entire life about who you are and what you do for a living.

Father: Oh.

Me: So just tell me. WHERE IS MY MOTHER?

Father: She left you a letter. You can have it at eight o’clock.

Me: Dad, eight o’clock is when the wedding is supposed to start.

Father: I am aware of that.

Me: Dad, you can’t do this to me. What am i supposed to tell—

Voice: Phillipe, is everything all right?

Me: Who is that? Who is that, Dad? is that Beverly Bellerieve?

Father: I have to go now, Mia.

Me: No, Dad, wait—

CLICK

4:00 p.m.–4:15 p.m.—Tear apartment apart, looking for clues as to where mother might have disappeared to. Find none.

4:20 p.m.—Phone rings. Paternal grandmother on line. Requests to know if mother and I are ready for trip to salon for beauty makeover. Inform her that mother has left already (well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?). Grandmother suspicious. Inform her that if she has any questions to consult with her son, my father. Grandmother says she fully intends to do so. Also says limo will be by at five o’clock to pick me up.

5:00 p.m.—Limo pulls up. Bodyguard and I Get into it. Inside is paternal grandmother (hereafter known as Grandmère) and maternal grandmother (hereafter known as Mamaw). Mamaw is very excited about upcoming nuptials—though excitement is somewhat dampened by cousin’s desertion to become male supermodel. Grandmère, on other hand, is mysteriously calm. Says son (my father) has informed her that bride has decided to make own hair and make-up plans. Remembering missing folic acid tablets, I say nothing.

5:20 p.m.—Enter Chez Paolo.

6:45 p.m.—Emerge from Chez Paolo. Amazed at difference Paolo has made with Mamaw’s hair. She no longer resembles mom in John Hughes film, but member of upscale country club.

7:00 p.m.—Arrive at Plaza. Father attributes bride’s absence to her desire to nap before ceremony. When i surreptitiously force Lars to call home on his cell phone, however, no one answers.

7:15 p.m.—Begins to rain again. Mamaw observes that rain on a wedding day is bad luck. Grandmère says, No, that’s pearls. Mamaw says, No, rain. First sign of division within formerly united ranks of grandmas.