.disclaimer.


...

.prev. .next.

.random entry.

.archives.

.profile.

.d-land.


.:grrl-blog:.
.start.

Hm. In sixth grade I befriended this girl named Nicole Ru***nd. We were K.A.N.B.F.F.N.M.W. (Kelly and Nicole Best Friends Forever No Matter What). I also befriended this girl named Stacey G**f. We were not S.A.K.B.F.F.N.M.W, we were just B.F.F. We smoked our first cigarettes together, spray painted under the Smalltown Wisconsin bridge, shoplifted, cut classes, and other assorted "bad" things; but when Nicole and Stacey started smoking pot we sort of fell apart as friends. I wasn't really interested until about 8th grade or so, so I was Not Cool, and became the subject of much ridicule from my former friends. I also did my homework and usually got "A"s, which of course was also Not Cool.

Towards the end of 6th grade Nicole and I were still sort of friends despite enormous pressure on her from my former "friends" to ditch me. One day right at the start of recess she and I were by my locker and talking about how skinny we were and betting each other we couldn't (or could? I can't remember) fit in my locker. Eventually my naive ass crawled in my locker, which Nicole then slammed shut and ran off laughing.

I expected her to come back, and when she didn't I had to bang on the locker until finally a teacher opened it. I was unbelievably embaressed, of course blaming myself for being stupid rather than blaming Nicole for being a cunt. I was crying and told the teacher over and over that we were just playing a game. I didn't want anyone to find out about it and I didn't want everyone to hate me for narcing. Hell-o self esteem? Nicole told everyone...

I don't know what happened to those two. Last time I saw Stacey was in 10th grade, where she accused me of having drawn a mole on my forehead with a green marker. I ignored her, having decided long ago that she was a small minded idiot bitch with a fucked up family life and I had more pity for her than spite. Last time I saw Nicole was around the same time. I sold her some acid and she read me some poetry. She said, "we were the same, and then we were so different, and now we're the same again." Yeah right, I thought. That was her attempt to either apologize or befriend me, neither of which I accepted. I didn't have a lot of self esteem then either, but I knew well enough that doing drugs didn't make us the same people, and didn't make up for the way I had been treated.

Nicole I think probably could have made something of herself. Like a receptionist for a hair styling salon. Stacey I expect to be a pregnant meth head who's failed rehab at least two times and lost her first kid to the state.

01.01.06....3:29 pm

.stop.

this is a space maker more space m.comments(1).

this is a space maker

previous - next

private entries.

/20.10.09....5:45 am/ meow.

/18.08.09....11:42 am/ 21 Jump Street

/14.08.09....10:49 am/ findin somethin to DO

/10.08.09....12:06 pm/ still bored

/10.08.09....12:06 pm/ still bored

this is a space maker

#recommend my diary to a friend.