Post by supervannah on Nov 7, 2009 22:24:57 GMT -5
Chapter 1-
It is a truth universally known that when you don’t have a boyfriend in the teenage world that we live in, your placed near the bottom of the food chain until you get one. Unfotunately, I guess you would say that I am at the bottom of this food chain, since in my 15 years of living on this earth; I have never once had a boyfriend.
I have never had a moment in my life where I have been able to grab a boy’s hands and walk through the hallway at school, getting envious glances from onlookers. I’ve never been given those cute Eskimo kisses, and I’ve never been given those amazingly corny teddy bears for Valentine’s Day. I just walk through life each day, with no boy to text before I go to bed. No goodnight kisses. Zip, notta, nothing, a big fat zero like a big fat pimple, I have never received a romantic gesture.
So I start each day out with a mental pep talk. I am convinced that this will help my limited flirting skills and make me attractive towards boys. I have been reading this book recently called “What Men Want to Hear,” which tells of 10 things boys want to hear on a regular basis. The second point in the book, what I just read, was about men’s obsession with video games. Much like girls who like boy bands, boys spend loads of time idolizing video game characters for their courage and strength. I don’t know why boys look up to Mario and Luigi, but I guess that if the book says so, I might as well believe it, right?
Then I do some yoga. I got this really awesome DVD from the drugstore downtown that shows clips of good stretches that you can try on a daily basis. My goal is to try to put both of my legs behind my head; the DVD says flexible people are more attractive than someone that can’t even touch their toes. I really enjoy my five minute yoga sessions, with my little yoga mat and my small DVD player. It’s calming, until Jessie, my sister, comes and tries to throw Barbies and play dough on my bed. I can’t wait until she goes to Kindergarten, because maybe they can knock some sense into her. I know she’s my sister, but she’s a bit on the nutty side. More nuttier than I am to be exact. Yesterday she ran around the house with only her panties on and a lampshade tipped on the side of her head.
Today, however I read more of What Men Want to Hear and did the extended yoga session in my room. I was invited, along with the rest of my pathetic family, to Mrs. Mosier’s Christmas party, the weirdest Xmas party this side of the Mississippi. It was kind of dull, Mme. Mosier was a bit on the boring side, and she a belly the size of Vatican City, plus she worked with my dad at an accountant’s office, for god sakes. Every time I saw her, she was always cooking something in her old Crock Pot that smelled a bit like Jessie’s room. Let’s just say I never ventured to eat anything that came out of that Crock Pot.
The only reason I was spending so much time perfecting my boy impressing technique, was that I saw a reasonably attractive boy at the party last year, and he actually talked to me for more than five minutes. I believe his name was Eric, and he had a dog named Cheerio. That’s pretty much all I could remember, except for the fact that the whole time I was staring at his incredibly hot arms, which were bulging with muscle. It was, as Abby, my best friend would say, swoon worthy. This year I’m bringing her to see if we can try to find Eric again. Abby is two years older than I am, and is totally gorgeous, but I’m not saying that in a lesbian way or anything. She is just so much prettier than I am, and she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Why do we not have any men in our lives? Do we smell like my father’s socks?
I started pulling on the new mini dress Abby and I got at the mall a couple days ago. I remember standing still, staring at the dress in awe with Abby. It was like it was the cream of the crop of formal dresses. Not only was it short, but it was red and I had saved up all my money to buy very expensive Calvin Klein heels that were the same color as the dress. For crying out loud, I looked like a goddess, the dress completely made me feel like I was on cloud nine. I even bought a matching red rhinestoned clutch to match, and hopefully I was going to be a sight for sore eyes.
I slowly pulled my brush through my hair; my brown mane decided to be difficult today and was getting all knotty when I tried to use the curling iron. So I found some of mom’s old curlers in a bathroom cabinet and totally tangled them into my hair, which is terribly pin straight. After about twenty minutes of placing every curler in place without pulling on my hair, I sat down and looked down at my incredibly pale skin, and then the idea came to me.
I rushed into the bathroom again and grabbed my mother’s self tanning lotion and smoothed it all over my legs. Another point about impressing guys, they like when you are tan. It sort of turns them on or something? Makes them imagine you in a bikini on a beach somewhere, or something like that. My legs were incredibly uncooperative and the lotion didn’t exactly blend in right, but I figured once they had that sun-kissed glow you really wouldn’t see it.
I went back into my room, and slowly took all my curlers off. My hair looked like a poodle’s, the curlers had made my hair so stiff and crazily curly that no matter how much I brushed them, the tight curls wouldn’t turn into waves. It took me about 40 minutes of pulling and fraying the ends of my hair until it actually looked fairly decent. Then I looked down at my legs.
They were orange. BRIGHT orange, with little spots of my pale skin poking out. I had the urge to scream, and run around my room like a chicken with my head cut off, but then I remembered that this was more of Jessie’s expertise than mine, so I went into the bathroom and took off my dress. I turned on the bathtub water, and sat there for a while, as the water slowly turned a light yellow-orange and swirled around by the drain. I slowly got out and dried my legs off with a new towel, to find that only a little of the lotion had come off in the tub. My legs still looked like giant cheese puffs.
To wear, or not to wear, that was the question. There was my beautiful new red dress, standing there in its goddess glory, and there I was, looking like a walking carrot. Since I was in the bathtub, the lotion had soaked in not only to my legs but my abdomen and my arms were both a faded orange color. I looked around suddenly, trying to find some sort of sun tan removal lotion, when in walked my mother, with a disgusted look on her face.
“Kate, what have you down now?” She now looked so mad that she kind of looked a bit like she just had Botox done. Her face wasn’t moving.
“Mom, I’m pale, and I have to look good for a party!” I picked up the self tanning lotion and handed it to her. “Is there some sort of thing I could use to get the lotion off of me?”
“No,” she squeaked through her still botoxy face. “Usually I only put on a little tiny bit of it, but it looks like you put on at least half of the bottle. Did you read the directions?”
“No,” I looked down at my cheese puff legs again and let out a sigh. “So can I not go?” I looked back at my mother, who’s face had finally changed back to its normal state, a slight frown.
“Are you kidding me Kate? No, you already promised Abby that she could go with us, plus we always go. And there is a boy that your father has talked to me about that you probably want to meet.” She grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me towards who knows where.
“Whoa, Mom. Where are you taking me?” I pulled backwards and stumbled down onto the hard tile floor. And who was this boy that she wanted to set me up with? And why had my mom suddenly wanted to set me up with a boy anyway?
“You need suitable clothes. I don’t want my daughter to look like a walking ball of orange.” She grabbed my hand again and pulled me out into the hallway and towards her room.
-----------------------------
I looked like my Grandma Jane, and a circus clown mixed into one person. It was humiliating, getting out of our car and having to look up at the huge daunting house that belonged to the Mosiers in front of me. Then next to me, there was Abby looking great, and then there was me again, looking like a mess. Why did I have to be so utterly crazy and have that thought stick in my head. I was never going to use tanning lotion again.
Mom was looking over at me, smiling in her purple dress that even looked better than my way to long on the sleeves turtleneck and one of those hippie skirts that they wore back in the Woodstock era. Everyone at this weird party was going to laugh at me, and I was just going to be this huge joke.
Then there was dad, who looked so happy that I thought for sure that the apocalypse was coming soon. Plus he was holding mom’s hand. How unusual. Well if this was the apocalypse, well at least I could tell Abby what I want to say before I die.
I pushed the doorbell with my stubby little orange finger before standing back and cowering behind dad, who, by the way, is ginormous. He could totally be an elephant in a circus. Also when I was conceived, he gave me my big feet, which is a huge genetic disaster especially since some stores don’t even sell shoes in my size. Imagine the Hulk, but bigger, and that is my dad for you.
Mrs. Mosier answered the door, with a red and green apron with “Ho Ho Ho!” written all over it. She was holding her Crock Pot with one hand, the door with the other, and her stomach was still protruding from her body like Mount Everest. She hadn’t really changed that much. “Come in!!!” She opened the door more, and carefully held her Crock Pot to her chest like it was some sort of football. She turned around as my family walked in, plus Abby, and screamed towards the large living room space. “Everyone, the Carters are here!!” She smiled back at us, and I just kind of wanted to run away. She was making me even more embarrassed than I already was, which I didn’t think was possible, since I was already more embarrassed than I had been my whole life.
I felt something warm trickling down the back of my turtleneck, and then I looked around to find none other than Jessie taking her hot chocolate we had gotten for her at McDonalds on the way to the party and dumping it down the back of my sweater.
“Ahhhhh, Jessie!!!” I felt my face get hot as turned around fully and took the hot chocolate from me and set it on a table near the door. “W-w-w-why?”
“Kate-eeee, I wuv you,” she said in her little four year old voice, her eyes gleaming with an evil quality. I have a crazy, villainous little sister, who embarrasses me at social gatherings.
The other bad thing about this whole charade was that behind me, all the guests were watching me. Some were laughing, others were staring in awe at a maniac like me. I looked like I should be stuck in an asylum some where, screaming out weird random things to people who walk by my room. I could tell half of the people at this party were already scared of me.
Mom rushed over to my side with a roll of paper towels, and I sighed in relief as she started wiping off the back of my sweater.
Then she whispered in my ear. “The boy I want you to meet, Nick, well he’s staring at you.” She pointed her hand to a boy, who was actually kind of cute. But then I was just looking at his face. I moved my eyes down to his sweater, and burst out laughing.
This guy Nick, was wearing a red sweater with a sewn on Santa appliqué on it. And the best part?? The Santa had a pom-pom beard, and black button eyes. Finally someone who was probably more embarrassed than I was.
Then he suddenly moved towards me. I was fine with him just staying there, and I didn’t really want to talk to him. But I only had two choices. Stay still or duck and cover.
Thanks!
Please reply about your thoughts!!
It is a truth universally known that when you don’t have a boyfriend in the teenage world that we live in, your placed near the bottom of the food chain until you get one. Unfotunately, I guess you would say that I am at the bottom of this food chain, since in my 15 years of living on this earth; I have never once had a boyfriend.
I have never had a moment in my life where I have been able to grab a boy’s hands and walk through the hallway at school, getting envious glances from onlookers. I’ve never been given those cute Eskimo kisses, and I’ve never been given those amazingly corny teddy bears for Valentine’s Day. I just walk through life each day, with no boy to text before I go to bed. No goodnight kisses. Zip, notta, nothing, a big fat zero like a big fat pimple, I have never received a romantic gesture.
So I start each day out with a mental pep talk. I am convinced that this will help my limited flirting skills and make me attractive towards boys. I have been reading this book recently called “What Men Want to Hear,” which tells of 10 things boys want to hear on a regular basis. The second point in the book, what I just read, was about men’s obsession with video games. Much like girls who like boy bands, boys spend loads of time idolizing video game characters for their courage and strength. I don’t know why boys look up to Mario and Luigi, but I guess that if the book says so, I might as well believe it, right?
Then I do some yoga. I got this really awesome DVD from the drugstore downtown that shows clips of good stretches that you can try on a daily basis. My goal is to try to put both of my legs behind my head; the DVD says flexible people are more attractive than someone that can’t even touch their toes. I really enjoy my five minute yoga sessions, with my little yoga mat and my small DVD player. It’s calming, until Jessie, my sister, comes and tries to throw Barbies and play dough on my bed. I can’t wait until she goes to Kindergarten, because maybe they can knock some sense into her. I know she’s my sister, but she’s a bit on the nutty side. More nuttier than I am to be exact. Yesterday she ran around the house with only her panties on and a lampshade tipped on the side of her head.
Today, however I read more of What Men Want to Hear and did the extended yoga session in my room. I was invited, along with the rest of my pathetic family, to Mrs. Mosier’s Christmas party, the weirdest Xmas party this side of the Mississippi. It was kind of dull, Mme. Mosier was a bit on the boring side, and she a belly the size of Vatican City, plus she worked with my dad at an accountant’s office, for god sakes. Every time I saw her, she was always cooking something in her old Crock Pot that smelled a bit like Jessie’s room. Let’s just say I never ventured to eat anything that came out of that Crock Pot.
The only reason I was spending so much time perfecting my boy impressing technique, was that I saw a reasonably attractive boy at the party last year, and he actually talked to me for more than five minutes. I believe his name was Eric, and he had a dog named Cheerio. That’s pretty much all I could remember, except for the fact that the whole time I was staring at his incredibly hot arms, which were bulging with muscle. It was, as Abby, my best friend would say, swoon worthy. This year I’m bringing her to see if we can try to find Eric again. Abby is two years older than I am, and is totally gorgeous, but I’m not saying that in a lesbian way or anything. She is just so much prettier than I am, and she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Why do we not have any men in our lives? Do we smell like my father’s socks?
I started pulling on the new mini dress Abby and I got at the mall a couple days ago. I remember standing still, staring at the dress in awe with Abby. It was like it was the cream of the crop of formal dresses. Not only was it short, but it was red and I had saved up all my money to buy very expensive Calvin Klein heels that were the same color as the dress. For crying out loud, I looked like a goddess, the dress completely made me feel like I was on cloud nine. I even bought a matching red rhinestoned clutch to match, and hopefully I was going to be a sight for sore eyes.
I slowly pulled my brush through my hair; my brown mane decided to be difficult today and was getting all knotty when I tried to use the curling iron. So I found some of mom’s old curlers in a bathroom cabinet and totally tangled them into my hair, which is terribly pin straight. After about twenty minutes of placing every curler in place without pulling on my hair, I sat down and looked down at my incredibly pale skin, and then the idea came to me.
I rushed into the bathroom again and grabbed my mother’s self tanning lotion and smoothed it all over my legs. Another point about impressing guys, they like when you are tan. It sort of turns them on or something? Makes them imagine you in a bikini on a beach somewhere, or something like that. My legs were incredibly uncooperative and the lotion didn’t exactly blend in right, but I figured once they had that sun-kissed glow you really wouldn’t see it.
I went back into my room, and slowly took all my curlers off. My hair looked like a poodle’s, the curlers had made my hair so stiff and crazily curly that no matter how much I brushed them, the tight curls wouldn’t turn into waves. It took me about 40 minutes of pulling and fraying the ends of my hair until it actually looked fairly decent. Then I looked down at my legs.
They were orange. BRIGHT orange, with little spots of my pale skin poking out. I had the urge to scream, and run around my room like a chicken with my head cut off, but then I remembered that this was more of Jessie’s expertise than mine, so I went into the bathroom and took off my dress. I turned on the bathtub water, and sat there for a while, as the water slowly turned a light yellow-orange and swirled around by the drain. I slowly got out and dried my legs off with a new towel, to find that only a little of the lotion had come off in the tub. My legs still looked like giant cheese puffs.
To wear, or not to wear, that was the question. There was my beautiful new red dress, standing there in its goddess glory, and there I was, looking like a walking carrot. Since I was in the bathtub, the lotion had soaked in not only to my legs but my abdomen and my arms were both a faded orange color. I looked around suddenly, trying to find some sort of sun tan removal lotion, when in walked my mother, with a disgusted look on her face.
“Kate, what have you down now?” She now looked so mad that she kind of looked a bit like she just had Botox done. Her face wasn’t moving.
“Mom, I’m pale, and I have to look good for a party!” I picked up the self tanning lotion and handed it to her. “Is there some sort of thing I could use to get the lotion off of me?”
“No,” she squeaked through her still botoxy face. “Usually I only put on a little tiny bit of it, but it looks like you put on at least half of the bottle. Did you read the directions?”
“No,” I looked down at my cheese puff legs again and let out a sigh. “So can I not go?” I looked back at my mother, who’s face had finally changed back to its normal state, a slight frown.
“Are you kidding me Kate? No, you already promised Abby that she could go with us, plus we always go. And there is a boy that your father has talked to me about that you probably want to meet.” She grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me towards who knows where.
“Whoa, Mom. Where are you taking me?” I pulled backwards and stumbled down onto the hard tile floor. And who was this boy that she wanted to set me up with? And why had my mom suddenly wanted to set me up with a boy anyway?
“You need suitable clothes. I don’t want my daughter to look like a walking ball of orange.” She grabbed my hand again and pulled me out into the hallway and towards her room.
-----------------------------
I looked like my Grandma Jane, and a circus clown mixed into one person. It was humiliating, getting out of our car and having to look up at the huge daunting house that belonged to the Mosiers in front of me. Then next to me, there was Abby looking great, and then there was me again, looking like a mess. Why did I have to be so utterly crazy and have that thought stick in my head. I was never going to use tanning lotion again.
Mom was looking over at me, smiling in her purple dress that even looked better than my way to long on the sleeves turtleneck and one of those hippie skirts that they wore back in the Woodstock era. Everyone at this weird party was going to laugh at me, and I was just going to be this huge joke.
Then there was dad, who looked so happy that I thought for sure that the apocalypse was coming soon. Plus he was holding mom’s hand. How unusual. Well if this was the apocalypse, well at least I could tell Abby what I want to say before I die.
I pushed the doorbell with my stubby little orange finger before standing back and cowering behind dad, who, by the way, is ginormous. He could totally be an elephant in a circus. Also when I was conceived, he gave me my big feet, which is a huge genetic disaster especially since some stores don’t even sell shoes in my size. Imagine the Hulk, but bigger, and that is my dad for you.
Mrs. Mosier answered the door, with a red and green apron with “Ho Ho Ho!” written all over it. She was holding her Crock Pot with one hand, the door with the other, and her stomach was still protruding from her body like Mount Everest. She hadn’t really changed that much. “Come in!!!” She opened the door more, and carefully held her Crock Pot to her chest like it was some sort of football. She turned around as my family walked in, plus Abby, and screamed towards the large living room space. “Everyone, the Carters are here!!” She smiled back at us, and I just kind of wanted to run away. She was making me even more embarrassed than I already was, which I didn’t think was possible, since I was already more embarrassed than I had been my whole life.
I felt something warm trickling down the back of my turtleneck, and then I looked around to find none other than Jessie taking her hot chocolate we had gotten for her at McDonalds on the way to the party and dumping it down the back of my sweater.
“Ahhhhh, Jessie!!!” I felt my face get hot as turned around fully and took the hot chocolate from me and set it on a table near the door. “W-w-w-why?”
“Kate-eeee, I wuv you,” she said in her little four year old voice, her eyes gleaming with an evil quality. I have a crazy, villainous little sister, who embarrasses me at social gatherings.
The other bad thing about this whole charade was that behind me, all the guests were watching me. Some were laughing, others were staring in awe at a maniac like me. I looked like I should be stuck in an asylum some where, screaming out weird random things to people who walk by my room. I could tell half of the people at this party were already scared of me.
Mom rushed over to my side with a roll of paper towels, and I sighed in relief as she started wiping off the back of my sweater.
Then she whispered in my ear. “The boy I want you to meet, Nick, well he’s staring at you.” She pointed her hand to a boy, who was actually kind of cute. But then I was just looking at his face. I moved my eyes down to his sweater, and burst out laughing.
This guy Nick, was wearing a red sweater with a sewn on Santa appliqué on it. And the best part?? The Santa had a pom-pom beard, and black button eyes. Finally someone who was probably more embarrassed than I was.
Then he suddenly moved towards me. I was fine with him just staying there, and I didn’t really want to talk to him. But I only had two choices. Stay still or duck and cover.
Thanks!
Please reply about your thoughts!!