The Ghost and the Cowgirl (Oh! Oww! Oww!)

You guys? I know. I am the mayor of Slackerville. The CEO of Slack, LLC. The... um... head of something else that involves slacking. But I'm back! Again! And I've brought with me Shorlock Homes the Cowgirl and Jenany and Jonhhy, the Children of Terrible Spellers. Do you forgive me? Maybe a little?

Guest author Michelle wrote these all-too-brief goodies when she was in second grade (circa 1998–1999). The first is a Halloween thriller... if by "thriller" you mean "barely-make-senser."

Halloween night part 1

"Aghhhhh! ghost!" cried Jenany is she ran downstairs. "Where!?" creied Mom, Dad, Kristy, and me.

Michelle says: I was a Babysitters Club nut when I was a little kid, and Kristy was my favorite character before I realized she was a bossy dictator who terrified me. Also, "Jenany" is supposed to be "Jenny."

"Upstairs!," she said. "let's get him!" we all creied!

End of part 3

Michelle says: I find it hilarious that I divided up such a short story into sections. And that I forgot what part I was doing so early on.

Sada says: I like that the parental response to a supernatural sighting by young Jenany is neither a) "Now, Jenany, you know ghosts aren't real..." nor b) "A ghost? Let's GET THE FRIG OUT OF HERE!" Nope, instead they're all, "Let's take that sucker DOWN!"

I think that's Jenany on the left.

Part 2

Whosh! the trees blew. It was not to sunny. We knew we could'nt bang into him.

Michelle says: Into whom? I'm assuming the ghost.

Sada says: Bang into him? Is he a ghost or a wall? Also, I thought vampires were the only weather-restricted supernatural beings, but I guess I stand corrected!

"There are no such things is ghosts" said brother Jonhhy."

Michelle says: Brother Jonhhy? Why is it that Kristy and Jenany, who I'm assuming are the unnamed protaganist's sisters, don't have "Sister" in front of their names? Or is Jonhhy a monk? Or am I reading too much into this?

"There is to and I saw him!"

Brother Johny lauhed so hard he fell and saw the ghost.

End of part 2

Sada says: Say what? Has Brother Jonhhy been sipping too much of the Trappist beer? Did he perhaps hit his head and then "see" said ghost? Or could this happen to anyone?! If so, be careful, gang! Excessive laughter COULD cause you to topple over and glimpse a specter!

Michelle says: Note that poor Johnny seems to have a new spelling of his name every time he's mentioned. Half of the words I repeat in this story are spelled differently the second time around.

Part 3

"Ehhhhhhh!" he creid. (Boo hoo).

Michelle says: Best scream ever.

"Help!" we all creied! Then frankinsein step on the dog.

Michelle says: Wait... Frankenstein stepped on the dog? If this had a semblance of coherency up until now, it was just shattered into a million pieces.

This is awful! I sreamed.

End of part 3.

Part 3

Michelle says: Because naming Part 4 "Part 4" is so overrated.

"TIRCK or Teat! smell my feet!"

It was Joey and the nebors!

THE END

Michelle says: Let me get this straight: Some random kid named Joey and the neighbors put this all together? I'd be pretty freaking pissed if I were Jenany and crew!

Sada says: I'm SO confused. So Joey and Frankenstein are in cahoots? With the ghost that can't be bumped into after sundown? And why did they drag the poor dog into it?

Seriously, can we review what just happened? Because it was basically this:

Jenany: Augh! GHOST!
Family: Where? We will kick that phantasm's ASS!
Friar Jonhhy: Dude. Everyone knows ghosts aren't real.
Jenany: Are too!
Friar Jonhhy: Ha ha ha ha ha ha--ouch. OMIGOD, a ghost! Ehhhhhhh!
Frankenstein: Hope you didn't like that dog.
Mystery narrator: This blows!
Joey and the nebors: TIRCK or Teat, bitches! You totally got punk'd!

Yeah, there are no answers here. However, one thing's for sure: If your name is Jenany, you should avoid the TIRCKS at all costs and stick to Joey and the nebors' Teats. (Ew?)

Next up is the story you've all been waiting for...

SHORLOCK HOMES

Michelle says: It should be said that I had no idea who Sherlock Holmes was, so I decided that he must be a cowgirl. Yes, a cowgirl. Don't ask me where I got that from.

Sada says: And if you're having trouble picturing that...

...it might look a little something like this.

Walking her horse through the desert, Shorlock Homes was carful, just in case if the robber, Jenson Leanes, jumped out and started a fight.

Michelle says: For some reason I thought a cowboy/cowgirl was a sheriff, and that outlaws just randomly attacked them.

She was very brave. All of a sudden there was a loud, paniked sream. It was Jenson Leanes! Her horse went up on his hind legs and ran as fast as he could. She got out her gun and started shooting. (Jenson was so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so mean!)

Sada says: That's pretty mean.

"Well, well, well. If Jenson gets shot everyone in the west would be safe, right?" She shot her in the face.

Michelle says: Wait! Isn't she supposed to arrest her or something? Dude, Shorlock Homes the Cowgirl totally just murdered someone!

Sada says: Do NOT mess with Shorlock Homes the Cowgirl. She will definitely find a way to justify shooting you in the face.

But the west wasn't safe yet. There was still Jakson Lenson. She traed to cacth her, but got hurt.

Michelle says: You can totally see here I was getting tired of writing this—one sentence after I introduced a new character. But poor Shorlock Homes, were her injuries fatal? Was she ever put on trial for shooting Jenson Leanes in the face? The world will never know.

That brings us to Michelle's final bit of guest author magic: a song (though, sadly, not about Shorlock Homes).

Michelle says: I have no idea to what tune it would go and it's painful to imagine ANYONE singing this. This lovely little ditty is called "Oh! Oww! Oww!"

Sada says: That sounds like something I'd sing after accidentally walking into my coffee table. Which happens much more frequently than I'd like to admit.

Oh! OWW! OWW!

I need ya, baby!

Something with you, my loooooooooove!

I love you darling, of course I doooooo!

Yaa!

Your cute!

I'll marry you!

Could yoooooou?

Would yoooooou?

You will?!

Oooh, baby!

Michelle says: This... requires no comment.

Sada says: Everyone, feel free to set this to music and serenade your significant other at the earliest possible occasion.

NEXT TIME: My autobiography, written at age 11. It's a page-scroller, all right.

Getting the band back together

By fourth grade I was pretty serious about my burgeoning career as a YA author—but that didn't stop me from moonlighting as a singer/songwriter (emphasis on the "songwriter," because I wasn't all that great at the actual singing part). What I was great at, however, was keeping all of my rock 'n' roll paraphernalia in one spot—namely, this 1985 "Jukebox Junkie" folder, which features an onslaught of rainbow-colored records inexplicably hurtling through the air like ninja stars. Notice how I reinforced the spine with duct tape, because that's how integral the folder was to my songwriting endeavors.


The inside pockets of the folder contain a glossary of computer terms. ?! Oh, 1985, you're so adorable!

The "band" (we'll be using that term extremely loosely, as the band members' combined instrument-playing ability was limited to a duet of "Heart and Soul" on the piano—a talent that my friend Jessica wisely exploited by penning a song set to the tune of "Heart and Soul") went through several incarnations in fourth and fifth grade.

Band #1:

People in the band:
1. Katie
2. Jessica
3. Sada [I love how I listed myself THIRD.]
4. Aja
5. Leah
6. Sherron

Names for our band [and the name of the amazingly clever band member behind it]:
1. New Sensation - Sada [Thanks, INXS.]
2. Everlasting Dream - Katie
3. The Dreamers - Katie
4. Lightning Streak - Sada
5. Rainbow Splash - Sada
6. Super Shades - Katie
7. Sparklers - Katie
8. Girls will be Girls - Sada
9. Pazazz - Aja
10. Mysterious - Katie
11. Sugar Babies - Aja
12. The Jump Clique - Aja [I'm pretty sure this was based on a T-shirt Aja owned.]
13. The Twelve Footsteps - Leah

According to my notes, Super Shades, Girls will be Girls, Pazazz, and Sugar Babies each received one vote, but as you read in my diary, Girls will be Girls ended up the overall favorite. Tough luck, Mysterious!

Songs for our band [and the songwriter, natch]:
1. He said he's gone - Sada
2. I gotta get outta this now - Sada
3. She thinks she's so hot - Sada
4. Walking down the street - Jessica
5. No One - Sada
6. Somewhere - Sada

So you've heard the old adage "write what you know." The problem is, that's extremely difficult to do when you're in fourth grade and you're trying to compose a love song. Have you ever tried to work in lyrics about how your true love got switched to another class and oh-so meaningfully asked you whether you were glad? It's tricky. But at any rate, I felt I could empathize with those who had loved and lost.

He said he's gone

He said he's gone. Why did he have to leave me? He said he's gone. Why did he have to go? 'Cause I miss him and he just said he's gone.

Is it because of some other girl or didn't I treat him right? Why can't he just come back and see that I'm the one for him?

He said he's gone. Why did he have to leave me? He said he's gone. Why did he have to go? 'Cause I miss him and he just said he's gone.

Why does everyone keep following me and asking me what's wrong? Why can't he just come back and see that I'm the one for him?

He said he's gone. Why did he have to leave me? He said he's gone. Why did he have to go? 'Cause I miss him and he just said he's gone.
He said he's gone.
He said he's gone.
He said he's gone.
Forever.

This one is kind of screwed from the get-go. Who says they're gone? Can you imagine that conversation? "So, you know how I just broke up with you? I'm worried you might be a little confused, so let me clear things up for you: I'm gone. No, seriously. I'm gone. Like, forever." Ouch. Also, the "Why can't he just come back and see that I'm the one for him?" line is so pathetic it makes me squirm a little.

The next song is heavy on the repetition, light on the explanations:

I gotta get outta this now

I hope that I can get out of this mess. Seems like I'm always stuck in the middle. I gotta get outta this now. I really have to get out of this now. I gotta get out now.

You got me into this mess. Now you're gonna get me out. Seems like you always stick me in the middle. Now it's my turn to get outta this now.

I hope that I can get out of this mess. Seems like I'm always stuck in the middle. I gotta get outta this now. I really have to get out of this now. I gotta get out now.

I really thought I could trust you. Now I know I was wrong. Seems like you're always usin' me just to get to him or her. I gotta get outta here now.

I hope that I can get out of this mess. Seems like I'm always stuck in the middle. I gotta get outta this now. I really have to get out of this now. I gotta get out now.

So many unanswered questions. Who am I singing to? What exactly does the mess entail? All we know is that:
a) There's a mess.
b) I'm stuck in said mess. And not on the fringes, but directly in the middle.
c) I gotta get out. Like, ASAP.

"She Thinks She's So Hot," on the other hand, was written about a specific girl in my fourth grade class. Looking back, she was a bit of a priss, but I don't recall the "I'm so hot" attitude or wardrobe malfunctions that this song describes.

She thinks she's so hot

She thinks she's so hot. What is her problem? She thinks she's so hot. What the heck is wrong with her now? She just thinks she's so hot.

Look at that skirt, up way too high. Look at that shirt, gonna fall off. How can she be dressed like that in public?

She thinks she's so hot. What is her problem? She thinks she's so hot. What the heck is wrong with her now? She just thinks she's so hot.

With the stroke of her hand she can win the boys' hearts over, she thinks. She can do anything if she puts her mind to it, she thinks. Why does she think such things?

She thinks she's so hot. What is her problem? She thinks she's so hot. What the heck is wrong with her now? She just thinks she's so hot. She thinks she's so hot.

Yes, my self-esteem was so low that I resorted to picking on girls who exhibited actual confidence.

Next we have "No One," a song that contains at least one attempt at rhyming and a dramatic usage of the CAPS lock.

NO ONE

I GUESS I'M JUST LONELY,
LOOKING FOR A PLACE TO STAY.
I GUESS YOU WERE STANDING BEFORE ME,
STANDING IN MY WAY.
AND YOU DON'T-

NO ONE KNOWS (no one knows),
THE WAY I FEEL (way I feel).
THE WAY I FEEL INSIDE (way I feel inside. Inside.)

I GAVE YOU 1, 2, 3, CHANCES AND YOU
RUINED THEM ALL.
IT TOOK US TOO LONG TO REALIZE,
WHAT WAS HAPPENING.
AND YOU DON'T-

NO ONE KNOWS (no one knows),
THE WAY I FEEL (way I feel).
THE WAY I FEEL INSIDE (way I feel inside. Inside.)

NOW I'M SITTING HERE CRYING (ooo-ooo-ooo),
AND I'M SURE YOU'RE SOMEWHERE DOIN' THE SAME
THING (ooo-ooo-ooo).
IT'S ALL BECAUSE NO ONE KNOWS THE WAY WE FEEL
INSIDE (Inside. Inside. Inside.).

Oh man. I did believe that no one knew the way I felt inside, though God knows there were no boys anywhere crying their eyes out over me (oooh oooh oooh).

Finally, we have "Somewhere," which owes perhaps a small debt to a certain Russian immigrant mouse. Yeah, there's even a line that begins "Somewhere out there..."

Somewhere

Somewhere is a special place,
Somewhere out there I know you're waiting for me
and with the look on your face,
there's no other place I'd like to be.

Somehow something went wrong,
it was just the human race.
Somewhere you're singing a song,
and I can't see your face.

Somewhere is a special place,
Somewhere out there I know you're waiting for me
and with the look on your face,
there's no other place I'd like to be.

Somewhere in that special place you're
waiting for me.
and I'm sitting here waiting for you.

For those of you who were thinking that at least we'd be sleeping underneath the same big sky and/or wishing on the same bright star, SORRY, but not in my song. In my song, the only one singing a lonesome lullaby is the possibly faceless dude I'm trying to meet up with. Well, "trying" might be a stretch. Mostly I just seem to be moping about the fact that I just... can't... get... to... him, for whatever reason. Thanks for nothing, human race!

Band #2:

Six band members may have resulted in too many cooks in the kitchen (or rather, too many "Heart and Soul" players on the piano bench), so we scaled it back.

The Go-go's

Soooo uninspired. What happened to Super Shades?

President: Jessica
Vice President: Katie
Treasurer: Sada

That's right, I was the band treasurer. You are so jealous.

What do we do?

Katie - vocals/keyboards
Jessica - vocals/keyboards
Sada - vocals

My, were we an eclectic group. You better watch your ass, Jane Wiedlin!

Band #3:

In fifth grade we tried the six-person band again. This time we ditched all but the best of the original tunes and focused instead on covers. Apparently our main influences were:

• Rags to Riches. I think that goes without saying.
  
• The Dirty Dancing soundtrack. During the summer between fourth and fifth grade, my friend Sherron and I worked out several elaborate dance routines to this soundtrack. I believe there were lifts involved.
• Paula Abdul. Because it was 1988.
  
• Carole King. I was way into Really Rosie, and everyone's parents seemed required by law to own a copy of Tapestry on vinyl.
  

The Groups name; Cool & Clutzy

I think Sherron was the brains behind this band name. Here's what I'm not sure about: Were all of the band members considered simultaneously cool and klutzy, or were some of us designated klutzes while the rest of the band was cool?

The Groups Performers:
Sada
Sherron
Jessica
Casey
Katie
Mendi

The Songs The Group Hopes To Sing:
"I'VE The Time Of My Life"
"Straight Up"
"Be My Baby"
"I Feel the Earth Move"
"So Far Away"
"Walking Down The Street"
"Somewhere"
"I Love Him"
"Born To Be Wild"
"To Know Him"
"Hey Baby"

High Pitched Voices [uh, also known as sopranos]:
Sherron
Jessica
Sada [For the record, I'm an alto.]

I got back into the songwriting in seventh grade with classics such as "Luv" and "I Hate Cupid" (featuring the catchy chorus "Die, die, Cupid, die"). It took several more years before I would finally admit that I have little to no musical talent. In adulthood, the closest I've come to rock stardom is dating an array of musicians. And karaoking "Hot Blooded."

NEXT TIME: Gossip Central, the first chapter book of fifth grade, features more clueless parents and electronics-loving elementary schoolers. And an entire club devoted to spying for no apparent reason. Get ready!

Edit: I managed to find some elementary-era photos of myself without involving my mom and the USPS, so those are going up next. Then it's back to the literature!