Dear Sig: The Saga Continues

When last we left the saga, Cleveland's lake effect snow had failed to providentially strand my fourth grade crush, Sig, at my house mid-blizzard. (Thanks for nothing, Lake Erie.) I was 99% sure that Sig was into me, because sometimes he would, like, look at me in class. The problem: He also tended to gaze at my friend Jessica. Another problem: Jessica liked him too. And also: Jessica was, oh, only the most lusted-after girl in school.

So we did what any girls in our situation would do: We wrote Sig a letter telling him we liked him. Both of us. Me and my infinitely more alluring romantic rival. Together. Because I was a genius. And then we were like, "Which one of us you do like—that is, like like—more? OUT WITH IT, MAN!"

But Sig was not playing our game. He wrote back saying that we were both pretty (wooooooo!), and that he liked BOTH of us and couldn't decide. Which was a) totally baffling (really? he didn't like Jessica more? JESSICA??) and b) totally frustrating.

It also meant that the letters continued. Because Jessica may have been a gajillion times more popular with the boyfolk, but I could surely win him over with my... erm... heart-shaped stationery? The following letter was typed (how casual!) on paper that looked like this:

Raise your hand if you're embarrassed already.

Pre-letter disclaimer: Obviously I never sent this to him, because I still have it in my possession. What I don't know is whether or not I mailed off a later draft. Please, God, I pray that I did not.

July 15, 1988

Dear Sig,

Tomorrow I'm going on vacation. We're going to (in order) Brockport (to see my friends Brendan and Caitlin), Canada (to camp), Gasport (to see my cousins, Bonnie and Jimmy), and Lockport (to see my cousins, Stephanie and the twins, Steven and Michael).*

*The "ports" are in New York.

Yes, my letter included a footnote. Did I know how to woo a 10-year-old boy or WHAT? Oh, and a previous letter must have suggested a picture exchange, because after the really thrilling description of my upcoming trip, I launch into this:

Oh, I don't have any decent pictures to send you right now. I'm going to try and get my mom to take some acceptable ones while we're away.

Er, like this one?

There is absolutely nothing acceptable about those bangs.

Oh, I'm sorry, did I forget to mention that this was the Worst Cut Era? Yeah. You know how people sometimes refer to giant '80s bangs as "The Claw"? Mine were more along the lines of "Satan's Gimpy, Gnarled Hand." So I had that going for me. But wait! There's more!

My boyfriend thinks I looked like one of the Ramones.
Every young girl's dream!

Oh yeah, these pictures were going to make him forget allllll about Jessica. Also, notice how I'm close-lipped in all of the shots? That's because I'd recently acquired a mouthful of metal. Hot, right? Jessica WHO??

Are you going to send yours? The three of us, you know, you, me, Jessica, should all get together soon and talk.

I'm sure Sig was just counting down the days until he could be hounded about this in person instead of via the USPS.

Have you told anyone about this? Well, Jess and I told Katie, the three of us are best friends. I doubt there's anything left to say.

Good instinct, Sada! Keep it short and sweet. The less you say, the less likely you are to utterly humiliate yourself. Just sign your name and we'll—oh CRAP—

Well, I just wish you'd like me more than Jessica. Everyone likes Jessica. The boys, I mean. When they look at me they say, "Ew, gross, contact" or something similar.

"Contact" was something that you would say to protect yourself against the germs of unpopularity. Like, say someone's hand accidentally brushed against [Insert name of unpopular child] while waiting in line for the slide; that person would then have the [Name of unpopular kid] Touch, and would have to rid him or herself of said Touch by thrusting it upon an unsuspecting victim. The ONLY WAY to avoid getting The Touch was to yell, "Contact!" or, if you were feeling charitable, "Contact! Detours! Force field!" If I remember correctly, this was a more powerful form of Contact that would also protect any friends in your immediate vicinity.

So, to sum up: Everyone with a wang lurves Jessica, and they find me so repellent that they must verbally arm themselves against my cooties. Just, like, in case you forgot, Sig! (You guys, I don't even know. Was I going for the PITY LIKE? Oh, the shame.)

It's nice to know that someone, besides my family and friends thinks I'm pretty.

Because—news flash!—boys think I am The Ug.

I think you're cute. Us girls call boys "cute" if they look good.

Good thing I let him in on that big secret! Jessica recently reminded me of a later incident in which we were walking to her house and Sig had joined us (hi, he obvs liked us!), and we started telling him how comely he was.

comely adj. Vocabulary word courtesy of Judy Blume. According to Rachel Robinson, it means "attractive . . . good looking . . . cute . . ."

Shockingly, Sig managed to glean the meaning from context. The context being along the lines of "Oh, Sig, you are soooooooOOOOOOOoooooooo COMELY!"

And then I ended the letter with:

L*O*V*E,
S*A*D*A

L*O*V*E? I'll tell you what I loved: asterisks. Sweet Jesus.

P.S. WRITE BACK SOON

P.P.S. If you get a letter from Rachel, don't write her back.

Because no letter is complete without a dig at Rachel! I think that ultimately only a couple of letters were exchanged (I don't see why Sig wouldn't have written back ASAP!), but I do remember that he gave both Jessica and I pink-and-purple friendship bracelets that he made for us. (ZOMG, a boy made me something! This was almost as cool as being in a skateboard gang!!)

I didn't keep a diary in fifth grade, but there's a mention in my school journal about Sig and his puppy stopping by Jessica's house while I was over (me: apparently unfazed that he was randomly stopping by Jessica's? or did we invite him?). That year Sig played the lead in our school play, The Emperor's New Clothes. Of course, he wasn't actually NAKED, but we had to pretend that he was. You can imagine the maniacal giggling that occurred.

And I would insist on going to Family Skate at the ice rink every freaking week because Sig went too and sometimes he would skate with me for a bit (woooooooo! again). The most dramatic Family Skate event involved my friend Casey, who broke her leg while skating with me and had to be carried off the ice by Sig's dad—oh, the mortification! Afterward Sig skated up to me and said, "The bigger they are, the harder they fall, huh?" I still don't know what he meant by that. In hindsight, I think he was just trying to make conversation, but in the moment, I was infuriated that he dare cast aspersions on my injured friend, and I came back with this incredibly witty rejoinder: "Well, I guess Casey must have a really big LEG then!!!" Um... ? What does that even MEAN?? (I don't know, but I was definitely mad at him for, like, at least two days.)

I do have some dishy materials from a sleepover with Katie. First of all, we rated ten of the boys in our class (as preteen girls are wont to do) on a scale of 1–10. I rated Sig the highest with a 9½; the baby-faced new boy Aaron, who lived a few doors down from Sig, a 7; and the remaining boys in the 2 to 6 range. Harsh! Katie, meanwhile, gave Sig a 10, when she supposedly liked Nathan—whom she only rated a 9! WTF, Katie?!

Also, to answer your question: YES, for some reason I have kept a copy of fifth grade boy ratings for TWENTY YEARS. There's obviously something wrong with me. But! Below the Boy Ratings, there's a list of the following:

People (or things) that go together in our grade:

1. Rebecca and Nathan
2. Sig and Jessica
3. Katie and Chuck [Chuck was the "hot stable boy" where Katie rode horses. Except for the part where he didn't actually exist. We started to get suspicious when we realized his letters were all written in Katie's handwriting.]
4. Rachel and Yoav
5. Michael and Laura [crossed out, I suppose, after they "broke up"]

But yes, did you see #2? It's true. The inevitable happened: Sig asked Jessica to "go with him." I was crushed. (Actually, I was home sick that day, and I don't really remember what happened. But I'm sure I was crushed.) And my family had just moved onto his very street! But, oh, what did it matter now?

I tried briefly to focus my attentions on Aaron, the new boy, despite the fact that he was only a 7. And by "focus my attentions" I mean "fantasize that I might lure him to my house to play a few rounds on our awesome new mini-pinball machine." But then all the other girls decided they liked Aaron too (one friend even puffy-painted "I ♥ Aaron" on her socks, so you know she meant business), so I was like, screw this. Plus, living on Sig's street meant that sometimes he would bike past my house. Like, while Bon Jovi was poignantly singing "I'll Be There for You" in the background. I swear to you.

So, he may have picked Jessica, but whatever—this shit was clearly meant to be. I knew it; Jon Bon Jovi knew it; and in his heart, I believed Sig knew it too. On the other side of the "Boy Ratings" paper is a list entitled "Who Boys Like," and you know who's listed under Sig? That's right: Jessica and Sada. I was keeping the dream alive, you guys. KEEPING THE DREAM ALIVE.

The saga? To Be Continued...

Also, in my dedication to embarrassing myself as much as humanly possible (and because, hey, I wondered what he was up to), I did it: I TRACKED SIG DOWN. And I sent him a link to The Sig Saga. Oh yeah I did. However, because he has the memory of a normal person instead of, like, a freaky computer elephant (ahem), he didn't recall too many of the specifics. He did say: "Offhand what I remember is having to deal with the barrage of notes and letters and phone calls from you girls when all I really wanted to do was jump my bike off the curb or play street hockey." Which... yep. That sounds about right.

One of the best parts, though, is how I finally found him: through my third grade crush, Andrew. That's right, people. I've been e-mailing all the boys I had the hots for in elementary school. I even confessed my crush-of-old to Andrew (he was not, I'm pleased to report, the recipient of any third grade letters) and he wrote back that he had a crush on—I am not even making this up!—JESSICA. Of course he did.

NEXT TIME: A rare look into the mind of the fifth grade boy! My brother proves that snarkiness runs in the family.

The Babysitter: Now with 100% Less Babysitting!

Hi. Remember me? Like a month ago I promised you babysitters being stalked by soul-sucking demons from hell? Well, the bad news is that my guest author (commenter extraordinaire Cory) couldn't wait and started posting this story on his own blog. (Really, I have no one to blame but myself.) The good news? We decided to post it here anyway! It's Halloween, people! And everyone loves a good soul-sucking demon!

[Side query: Do we think the parents of Stonybrook, CT, would leave their children in the care of one of Satan's minions? I vote yes, especially if it meant they could get out of taking them trick-or-treating.]

Anyway, Cory wrote this epic in seventh grade (yeah, I'm breaking my own chronology rule—sue me) under the influence of Goosebumps, Scream, and numerous other horror films involving stupid teenagers, urban legends, and/or Jennifer Love Hewitt.

Cory says: It was originally supposed to be about the old babysitter urban legend, the one about the man calling repeatedly and asking, "Have you checked the children?" It quickly evolved (or is it devolved?) into a story about a demon collecting souls in order to summon Satan to the world and cause mass destruction.

The Babysitter

Characters

• Faith:16yrs old The Babysitter. She is very concerned about her friends.
• Lily:15yrs old Faith's best friend. She is like Sheep: she does everything Faith does.
• Kris: 15yrs old Faith and Lily's friend. She is very lazy when it comes to school work
• River:14yrs old Faith's brother. He and Faith fight a lot.
• Colby:17yrs old Faith's boyfriend. They are having trouble with their relationship.
• Lauren:15yrs old Faith's arch nemesis. She and Faith used to be friends.
• Salem:16yrs old Faith's friend. He often gives advice to Faith and Lily and Kris
• Drew:5yrs old Faith is babysitting her. She is very spunky.
• Maryn:8yrs old. Faith is also babysitting her. She thinks that she is too old for a babysitter.

Cory says: I’m a big fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so you could often find at least one character named after someone on that show. In this story, it's Faith.

Sada says: Hmm, what about the character named after Sabrina the Teenage Witch's pet cat?

Prolouge

"Why does it matter where I was?!!," screamed Faith. "Bvecause you didn't meet me like you said you would!!!," screamed Colby. "You know what?," said Faith. "I'm sick of this! I forgot, okay!?! But it's too late. I am dumping you!"

Cory says: I doubt people actually say “I am dumping you” when they’re dumping people. I had no experience with relationships when I wrote this, and it shows.

Sada says: No, no, you wrote this in seventh grade, when people actually DO say "I am dumping you" when they're dumping people! Relationships: so much less ambiguous in junior high.

"What?," asked Colby. At first his tone was full of sorrow. But than it turned to anger. Faith could also detect some hate in his voice. "You can't leave me. I'll kill you first."

Cory says: This is the first sign something is wrong. Either Colby is a psychopath, or something else is horribly wrong. "What could it be! Why is Colby acting like this?" That's the reaction I was going for when I wrote this.

Sada says: My reaction? Colby is a psychopath. Also, "trouble with their relationship" was kind of an understatement.

Faith backed away in fear. He ran toward her. Faith ducked under him. She ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Colby lunged at her as though he was pocessed [Sada says: The key word here is "possessed." Sorry, I meant "pocessed."] She held her knife out but Colby didn't stop. Faith gagged at the sound of ripping flesh.

Cory says: I was apparently a very macabre child. This is supposed to be the second sign that something was wrong, and thus rule out the whole “Colby is a psychopath” theory. However, I’m fairly certain that some psychopaths, if not all, would run themselves into a knife… after all, most psychos aren’t playing with a full deck.

Colby stepped away from her, the knife still sticking out of him. To her surprise, Colby laughed.

Cory says: Finally, I present you with the third sign something is wrong.

"I'm not what you think," he said. His face was immediatly transformed. It was demon like. "You can't win," the demon said. Colby fell to the floor. A sort of spirit left Colby's body. "What happened?," he said. Faith knew at once she had made a terrible mustake. "It's okay," she said. But it wasn't okay. Faith knew it would never be okay.

Sada says: Is Your Boyfriend a Psychopath?: A quick quiz

1. When you dump your boyfriend, what is his reaction?

A. He tells you he'll kill you before he lets you leave him.
B. He tells you he'll kill you before he lets you leave him, and then a demon comes out of his body.
C. He says, "Nuh-uh! Because I'm dumping you first!"

2. You are forced to pull a knife on your man. What does he do?

A. Throws himself on the knife like it ain't no thang.
B. Throws himself on the knife like it ain't no thang, and then a demon comes out of his body.
C. Throws a tantrum until you give him the knife.

3. Let's say you stab the boyf. What happens next?

A. He laughs.
B. He laughs, and then a demon comes out of his body.
C. He laughs and laughs, because the knife was a prop and now there's fake blood all over the place that you'll have to clean up. Ha ha!

Results:

Mostly A's: Yeah, your boyfriend is totally psycho.

Mostly B's: Congratulations, your boyfriend is not psychotic! He's just possessed by one of Lucifer's henchmen!

Mostly C's: Are you sure you're dating and not babysitting?

Chapter One

December 1st

10:34 PM

Faith unlocked the door to her house. "Mom, Dad, I'm home," she called out. "Why are you home so late young lady?" asked her dad angerly.

"Colby is in the hospital," she replied, holding back the tears that were welling in her eyes."What happened!," asked her mother, who was clearly shocked. "Well, he was, um, drunk, I think, and he attacked me. I got a knife and he...he...." She could hold back the tears no longer. Her mother held her. "There, there," said her mother soothingly.

Cory says: Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned that he was drunk. After all, he's only 17 and you're only 16.

Sada says: I guess compared to the whole "possessed by a demon" thing, getting attacked by your drunken 17-year-old boyfriend is ho-hum? We do find out later that Colby had broken into his parents' wine cellar before The Incident. Demons have very developed palates.

December 2nd

1:23 PM

***

"That's terrible!," said Lily. "I know,"replied Faith. "I can't believe it either." said their friend Kris. "Can't believe what?" asked Lauren.

"I can't believe that this school is so big yet I keep seeing you," said Lily.

Cory says: Oh, man, this is about to be embarrassing.

"Well I can't believe that you were allowed out of your cage this morning," said Lauren, smiling.

Cory says: Worst. Comeback. Ever.

"Do you wanna start something?," asked Lily.

"Bring it on!," exclaimed Lauren. The girls lunged at each other.

Sada says: GIRL FIGHT! GIRL FIGHT! No, wait, we're getting off-topic. Let's see if we can bring it back around here. The girls lunged at each other, so...

This reminded Faith how Colby had lunged at her. She held her head saying "It's not your fault," silently. Kris seemed to notice that Faith was troubled. "Are you okay Faith?," she asked. Faith sat up. "Yeah," she said,"I'm fine."

Sada says: I don't have a problem! I can stop silently mouthing things to myself whenever I want!

"Whoa, stop!," said Salem as he pushed between Lily and Lauren. They ran around him and fell to the ground, Lauren biting Lily's arm. Salem ignored them this time. "I came over here for a reason, not to mess with these two," he said. "Um Faith, Kris, do you two want to come out to the Pizza Shack tonight?''

Cory says: Yes, I made the Pizza Shack up. I wish I hadn’t, but I did.

".....Sure," said Faith. "It might get my mind off of well, you know."

Cory says: I love how Faith was about to have a nervous breakdown, and now she’s acting like her situation with Colby was just some irritating event that she doesn’t want to think about.

Sada says: Nothing like a trip to the ol' Pizza Shack to help you forget about, you know, how you almost killed your boyfriend, who, you know, attacked you while under the influence of Satanic forces. It's nothing some cheesy breadsticks can't fix!

"Why don't we ask Lily?," asked Kris. "I have a felling that she and Lauren are going to be in detention today." Sure enough, two seconds later a teacher came and gave them detention slips for afternoon detention.

Cory says: No, Kris doesn't have precognitive abilities. I didn't go that far... in this story, at least.

Chapter Two

December 3rd

12:10 AM

Kris woke up. She looked at the clock on her computer. 12:10 AM! I need to get some sleep tonight, so I better get done with my report.

Kris looked at the computer. Written in large, bold type were the words OUTSIDE. [Sada says: Isn't that one word?] Kris looked around. No one was there. She decided to go outside.

Cory says: I have no words. Well, I have several, but they all essentially mean “dumbass.”

Sada says: And if you think the demon is technologically savvy now, just wait until he—SPOILER ALERT!—starts contacting his victims via cell phone. Just how extensive IS Verizon's network?

She got there and called out. "Hello? Anyone out here?" No answer.

She walked out, away from the door. It closed behind her. "Oh, crud!" she said. She was locked out. There was an extra key behind her house in the garden. She was going to get it. "If I had just not gone out this afternoon, none of this would've happened," she grumbled. Pizza hadn't gone well.

Sada says: WHAAAT? Pizza Shack didn't help Faith forget about her "relationship troubles"? CRUD! What good are you, cheesy breadsticks? What good, I ask?

Faith was really upset about Colby. He wasn't allowed to have any visitors besides family yet. Faith said she wanted to talk to him. Kris had this feeling that Faith wasn't telling them the whole story about what happened that night.

Sada says: Yeah, if I were her, I'd leave out the "I'm dumping you" part too.

Kris got to the side of the house. When she got to the garden she almost threw up. There lay someone, dead. He was covered in scratches and bruises. He also had some strange markings on his face, and he had many tattoos.

Cory says: The presence of tattoos was supposed to show that this dead guy was bad news. Now, I have nothing against people with tattoos. I actually have four, my father has eight, and my sister has thirteen. I think I meant for the tattoos to be creepy, stereotypical-gang-member tattoos… not that this guy’s in a gang or anything.

Sada says: I'm picturing prison tattoos. Those are bad news. Or at the very least not so aesthetically pleasing.

Despite the awful smell and the terror that was building inside of her, Kris bent closer to the body.

Sada says: Gross! Just how long has Bad News Prison Tattoo Guy been dead in Kris's garden?

She saw that the markings on his face looked ritualistic. Suddenly Kris remembered a serious thing. She didn't know why she had forgot it so quickly. Her computer had said "Outside". Someone was lureing her out here!!!!!!

Cory says: Seriously, it took her this long to figure out something was amiss.

Sada says: I love how it JUST occurred to her. Kris is maybe not the sharpest tack on the bulletin board.

She turned to run. She made it to the back door. Thats when she remebered that both doors were locked! Kris ran to the flower pot that hid the key. She went to grab it when something grabbed her. She turned and saw someone with the face of a demon.

Sada says: Is there some sort of Universal Demon Face that I'm not familiar with?

Does it look like this?

Kris ran to the neighbors yard. Her bare feet were freezing in the new snow that must have fallen when she was sleeping.

Sada says: So. Not only did Kris blindly follow her computer's order to go outside, she then managed to lock herself out in snowy weather sans footwear. Mister demon, sir? This is hardly a challenge.

When Kris got to the door, she banged on it heavily. She pounded it as long as she could before the demon ran to her. "Help me! Somebody please!" The demon started to grab her,but she was prepared this time.

Cory says: I’m confused about what, exactly, Kris was prepared for. There’s no mention of her fighting off the demon or anything.

Sada says: I think that "prepared" may be a relative term. I mean, we are talking about someone who failed to put on shoes before going outdoors in December.

She ran to the woods behind the neighbor's house.

Cory says: Everyone, not just Kris, conveniently lives near a forest.

The police station was just on the other side.

Cory says: Again, very convenient that she has to run through the forest to get to the police station.

Sada says: Convenient for the demon, maybe.

"Mua ah ah ah ah! Demons gone wild!"

Snow as falling again. Lightly at first, but it was very heavy by the time Kris made it to the half way point of the woods. The demon caught up with her than.

Cory says: You'd think a demon, who presumably has supernatural powers, would have caught up to Kris much sooner.

He grabbed her. It's grip was supernatural.

Cory says: Well, at least his grip is supernatural… whatever that means.

He opend a box.

Did it look like this?

Kris felt as if her soul was being absorbed. Kris fell to the ground, unmoving.

Cory says: I guess the lack of a soul equals unconsciousness. Who knew?

Sada says: If Kris knew, I'm sure she would have forgotten.

That might be the end for this entry, but believe me, my friends, The Babysitter is far from over. Since I've been having a hard time posting even my own writing with any regularity, we agreed that Cory should tell the rest over at his (new!) blog, Things That Are Here and Then Gone. His Part One has even more background info—and, you may not be surprised to learn, many less references to Joe Francis and the Girls Gone Wild empire (in fact, none). Or you can pick up Chapter Three, which contains ACTUAL BABYSITTING, plus a mysterious "lasting sleep" that sounds suspiciously like a coma, here.

NEXT TIME: Unsolved mysteries abound in The Strangest Thing Happened on Halloween, which I promise to post before Halloween.

Yes, I mean THIS Halloween.

That's Me!

In fifth grade, we had a class assignment to write our autobiography. This should have been a piece of cake for me. I mean, I wrote at home all the time... FOR FUN. But? Those were stories about punk rock Valley girls! Runaway cult members! Girls who dressed up like hookers for Halloween and wired the insides of trees in their spare time! In other words, people with much more interesting lives than mine. What did I have to offer the world? Let's see...

In my first attempt, I took a straightforward approach:

I was born on June 24, 1977. It was dinnertime. I was named Sada Rose. Sada after Sada Thompson an actress on the T.V. show, FAMILY. Rose after my grandmother's maiden name. I was Halle and Charles's first child, their first little girl. I was born at home in Buffalo, New York.

Blah blah freakin' blah. Where was the DRAMA? The biker gangs? The secret passages? The Wheel of Fortune wins? I quickly jotted down the most important points to cover in my 11 years of existence:

Born
Genie born
Will born
Pets
Friends
Houses
Family
School
Fights
Vacations
Getting Hurt Badly
Interesting things

Could this work? Could I pull it off and transform myself into a fascinating protagonist?

Well, apparently not. Instead I decided to go in the complete opposite direction, by insisting to the reader that I was BORING AS ALL GET-OUT. Here's how I began Draft #2:

I HAVE A BORING LIFE

I HAVE A BORING LIFE
I HAVE A

My mother says I don't have a boring life. My grandmother says I don't have a boring life. My father says I don't have a boring life.

I HAVE A BORING LIFE.

As you can see, I was keeping expectations low. EXTREMELY LOW.

I was born, naturally, but that's boring. EVERYONE was born. I was born at home.

When I was a baby, I went to King's Island. I met ______________. But I don't remember. That's boring to me.

You know who the blank is? MUHAMMAD ALI! Totally not boring! When I was six months old, my mom and I happened upon him while flying out of NYC, and he not only held me, he even kissed me! And I cried. And my mom didn't take a single photo, a fact over which she should still be kicking herself. That could have MADE this autobiography.

When I was a baby, I went to the Virgin Islands. WOW. WHERE ARE THE VIRGIN ISLANDS?

Not only was I boring, I also lacked basic geography skills. Or looking-at-a-map skills. Or asking-my-parents skills.

But, man, I was onto something with this "boring" theme! It was time to set to work on the final draft. Here's what I turned in to my teacher (photos and all).

THAT'S ME!

This book is dedicated to:
my parents
because without their help I never
would have had this life

Bow chicka wow wow! On the other hand, that could be translated as "Without you two I never would have had such a BORING life!"

Since I think I have a boring life, the most exciting way to write this story would be to tell you everyone's suggestions...and things I remember.

SPOILER: That might, in fact, be the LEAST exciting way to write this story.


You guys, I loved this pile of dirt. LOVED IT. In fact, check out this other photo (not part of the book, but included here for your viewing enjoyment), where I'm all, "Holy God! This is the best pile of dirt EVER!":

DIRT RULES!

"I have a boring life." I exclaimed. I had just walked into my little brother's room. It was the week-end and the morning.

I was right! This is boring already!

My mom tried to be helpful. "When you were little you used to lay down and suck your fingers to go to sleep." she said.

And then there's a photo of... me sitting on a stoop with some disembodied legs?

The caption for this one reads "Me (notice the slippers)." I have no idea why. Of much greater interest is my MAINE POTATOES shirt, because my family calls me Sada Potato. For those of you who don't know me, that rhymes.

"What about me?" asked my little brother, Will. He won't be left out of a conversation.

"Well," said mom. "You used to call Josh:Dosh, Sada:Ada, and Genie:Nenie."

Will laughed into his pillow.

"And Genie used to call American Cheese: AMERICACHINO." added mom.

More hysterical laughter from Will.

I rolled my eyes.


My sister had a Groucho Marx mask that she bafflingly referred to as her "Philip Face." Here I model the mind-blowing Philip Face and peach leotard combo. Hipsters, you might want to be writing this down.

"I have a boring life." I said to my grandma.

"A BORING LIFE." cried Grandma. "I think you have one of the most exciting lives of any 11-year-old."

She went on to make suggestions:

Me wearing my Santa pajamas.

"You traveled to the Virgin Islands when you were a baby. How many people do you think have done that?" questioned Grandma.

"I don't remember." I said.

"You've seen your brother and sister being born." continued Grandma.

"I don't remember Genie." I told her. (Genie is my little sister, of course.)

My siblings and I were all born at home (a detail that I clearly had to leave out, lest I make this autobiography slightly interesting), and I was present at their births. But whatever. The miracle of life? BORING.

Me and dad on the boat, cruising the Carribean

I neglected to mention that we stayed on a houseboat in the Virgin Islands. I know, right? Being on a boat? TOTALLY BORING.

I remember stories my mom told me like the time I was in my crib.

I was supposed to be taking a nap. I saw our neighbor and I started to wave and call, "JULIE. JULIE." Then, I fell out of my crib and out of the window.

YES! Finally we get to some good stuff, i.e., Getting Hurt Badly by Falling Out of a Window! Well, except for this:

OOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPSSSSSSSS.....

My mom just came in and told me I fell out of the crib (I'd been leaning out of the window) and smacked my head really badly on the hardwood floor.

That was the end of the crib.

...And the end of this story, which was way better when I thought I fell out of the window. Falling on the floor? BORING!

Me doing "exercises"

Please note the Super '70s playpen and the sock monkeys strewn willy-nilly.

When I was little my feet used to point in so, I wore a brace (on my feet) that kept them out. My mom's friend, Maura says I used to walk around with it on my feet.

Me and the brace (I used to make that face all the time)

Yes, everyone, I was dropped on the head AND I was pigeon-toed. You want to make fun? Just try it! I know Muhammad Ali!

Well, back to Will's room.

I was asking my mom about when I was in the hospital.

"Well," she began. "You were yellow."

"Yellow?" I repeated.

"Yellow." she said.

The first photo in the infamous "Eating Sand" series...

"And," she continued. "We took you to the hospital. Your blood was different than mine. So, they poked and prodded you and gave you blood transfusions and all that." She went on and on and on and on and on..........

In other words: BORING! I mean, my body was just REJECTING MY BLOOD. No big whoop.

I could tell funny, interesting, exciting stories about my brother or sister.

BUT NOT ME.

So that's my boring life.

What do you think?

My teacher's comments?

Excellent! You did a wonderful job on this aubobiography Sada!

I am not kidding. It definitely says "aubobiography." Which probably explains a lot.

NEXT TIME: Fifth graders cannot keep their stinkin' traps shut in THE BIG SECRET.

Tragedy... or Comedy?

The following tragic—or "tradgic," as the case may be—tales were recorded in my school journal. What do we think my fifth grade teacher's reaction was? Copious eye-rolling? Or laughing until she peed her pants, then reading the journal aloud to every member of her immediate family?

The first tale of woe is supposed to be written in an objective journalistic style. Please note: supposed to be.

November 2, 1988

Joe Hill

This tragic story begins on November 1, 1988 at about 2:30 P.M. when Sada, 11, got off the bus from Fairfax Elementary and walked to her house at 1888 So. Compton.

Sada realized no one was home but Joe, the handy man.

Just to clarify, Joe the Handyman was not by any means a permanent fixture in our household. He was an acquaintance of my dad's who was doing some sort of work in our kitchen, I don't remember what. Not really important for our purposes...

There were no cars there and the two doors (front and back) were locked but, she proceeded in ringing the two doorbells. Of course, Joe did not answer, which was what she expected as he did not live there. So she continued to buzz the bells which also consisted of playing "Mary had a little lamb" and "Heaven is a place on Earth" on them. She also claims to have banged on the gutter and thrown balls at windows.

Ooookay, so I thought Joe was in the house... Was I trying to ANNOY him into answering the door?

This went on until 3:00 P.M., when her father, Charles, 39, arrived home with her sister, Imogene, 9, her brother, William, 4, and her mother's baby-sitting charges, Joshua, 5, and Lawrence, 5. Apparently, the handy man, Joe Hill, while cutting a piece of wood with an electric saw tore off an inch of one of his fingers and cut three others.

Halle, 36, rushed Joe to Saint Luke's emergency room.

Charles later had to go home, find the finger, and bring it to the hospital.

I left out that it took my dad for-freakin'-evs for locate the finger—in fact, he initially overlooked it because he thought it was AN OLD PIECE OF POTATO. Unfortunately, that is eternally how I imagine severed phalanges to look.

Joe Hill's finger cannot be sewn back on.

But what's the real tragedy here? The fact that Joe lost part of his finger—or that I was left alone outside for half an hour and forced to amuse myself by playing Belinda Carlisle songs on the doorbell? I think we all know the answer to THAT.

But wait! There's so much more tragedy to come! It can happen anywhere, at any time. Even while you're waiting for the school bus.

12/88

Bus Stop Tradgedy

This morning, while waiting for the bus, somehow, a gift got into the street and was run over. Glass was splattered all over the street. Someone at our stop got the box out. It was a beautiful glass pitcher. We opened the card to "Mrs. Fentelli." It was from the Rennerts and Myers. So some of us volunteered to call them.

Because you know what a busted-ass pitcher in the middle of the street is? A mystery just waiting to be solved! And you best believe we were going to get to the bottom of it.

I am looking up "Fentelli" in the phone book. Genie [my sister, who was clearly not going to make it as a P.I.] never looked up Myers or called. I looked up "Fentelli" (it wasn't in there) and "Myers" (a whole "Myers" page, there is!), but I didn't make any calls.

Sherron had better luck. She looked up "Rennert" (only 3), found the number (so did I, actually), and called. She told the man (Sief) and asked if she should leave it at the bus stop for him.

Can you imagine how this phone call went down? "Well hi there, Mr. Rennert! I'm in fifth grade, and my friends and I found a smashed-up glass pitcher that you gave to someone. Uh, maybe. Anyway, you will OBVIOUSLY want this back. Should we leave its shattered remains at our bus stop for you?"

He said he didn't like the woman anyway; his wife wanted to send her the gift. He had no use for it. Sherron threw it out!

THE END

Oh my God, you guys! I can't believe he didn't want the beautiful broken pitcher back! DOUBLE the "tradgedy"!

But hang on, because the tragedy's about to get physical.

10/17/88

Golfing

I was in a golf cart crash. I went golfing with my dad. I was in a cart with his friend, Rob. We hit a tree.

Here's what I neglected to mention: I was the one driving.

The golf cart was unharmed, but my pride—and head—were wounded.
[p.s. I stole this image from Time. Don't sue me, please!]

My head hit the steering wheel. I fell out of the cart. I just lay there for a minute. I got up then, though.

For a second, all I saw was white, then I noticed the throbbing pain in my head. It seemed like my nose was bleeding, but it wasn't.

I think I may have been briefly knocked unconscious. That's some stellar first-time driving!

I didn't cry. Not until it was over and my dad drove up. I said, "Can I ride with you?" and started to cry.

So now I hurt:


* That already hurt.

Truthfully? I am still not a very good driver. However, I have never again driven headfirst into a tree. So at least I have that going for me.

10/88

Last Night

!!!UGH!!! Last night was bad. I guess you could call it a "bad night" like we say "bad day". Well, listen:

First, I had too much homework. (HINT, HINT).

Yes, it actually says that.

Then, since I did, my dad almost made me miss watching my T.V. shows. That was bad, since, they were SEASON PREMIERES. Finally, I agreed to do the dishes (My week, naturally) during commercials and take a bath after my shows. (9:00)

You guys, I was serious about my TV. At some point I even drafted a weekly schedule of all of the shows I liked to watch. You know, like ALF and The Hogan Family. How could I miss a single riveting episode?!

Must-see TV!

Well, I ran the bath-water (it could have been warmer) and got in.

I am sooo reaching.

Then it got bad. While washing my face, I got soap in my eye. I easily got it out. Well, I washed my hair and got shampoo in my eye, which really stung. I got out and it took me a while to get the shampoo out.

I tried to find an outfit for today (no skirts). I played with BABY [my guinea pig] and suddenly got a cramp in my leg. I went downstairs to take my medicine (I'd forgotten) and tell dad. Finally, I fell asleep.

It's amazing I lived to tell the tale, truly.

NEXT TIME: Whooo boy, after all the leg cramps and shampoo in the eye—uh, I mean, terribly horrible tragedy—you know what we need? A party! Or several parties, preferably involving Cool Ranch Doritos and multiple viewings of Hairspray.

My Diary, part three

LAST TIME: Jenny (or Jen) continued to pour her heart out to her diary, Ashley, about her various fifth grade traumas: Sarah almost DIED of pneumonia, but only missed about two weeks of school. Abby lost a worrisome amount of weight, which was GREAT NEWS! That britch Gretchen broke her leg due to her extreme idiocy—and STILL managed to seduce Todd Swartz and his hair! Meanwhile, Jen's grandpa had a heart attack and the family went to Brockport to help out. How did Jen help? By being bitchy to her cousin Ellen and secretly watching her brother make out through a hole in the floor. But it turned out Ellen is a peeping Tom too, so she and Jen TOTALLY BONDED. Also, our heroine got a paint splatter sweatshirt for her birthday. Can this story get any awesomer? Let's find out.

1/26/89
Thrilling Thursday.

Dear Ashley,

I'm really mad at Gretchen. I'll never be friends with her, even if she comes and begs me to let her kiss my feet. I'd rather slit my wrists.

You guys? If we ever get in a fight, offering to make out with my feet is NOT the way to win me back. Just an FYI.

I was walking home with Sarah and Pesty Lucy and Todd was walking Gretchen home. Well I heard someone yell, "Jennnnyyy!" So, I turned around and it was Gretchen. Her and Todd started cracking up. So I turned around. Sarah said, "Ignore." So about 5 minutes later I turned around for some dumb reason. Gretchen was staring straight at me but Todd didn't notice. Then she whispered something I couldn't hear and they started kissing.

Nooooooooooo! Seriously, there was only one fifth grade couple I knew who kissed (Terrence and Tacie), and I'm sorry to say they used to MAKE OUT on the school bus.

It wasn't as gross as Tony and Janie but they hurt me.

Terrence and Tacie, on the other hand? Grosser than you can possibly imagine.

I still found the note during class and I want to know why "Chipmunk" was walking home, with her broken leg and all but there are some things we never learn.

♥
-J

Jen is SO ZEN.

1/27/89
Freaky Friday.

Well, I guess I forgot to tell you what the note said. It said:

For the visually impaired, that's:

To my little Chipmunk-

How is your leg? I am so glad I'm walking you home today. We can talk. Meet me in the park tomorrow, OK?

L♥ve, Your Bear (Grizzly)

So anyway on the outside it said: To: Gretch From: Todd

So, Sarah had to go home for a doctor's appointment so me and Abby went to the park to wait for "Grizzly" and "Chipmunk". But Gretchen never came!!! Todd was down there with his friend, Joey. They were talking about Gretchen and saying too bad she couldn't come because of her leg and then they started laughing. But we couldn't figure out anything else because they started a snowball fight. Even though there was hardly any snow!

♥
-J

That is the single most realistic thing a boy in these books has done. Strictly the snowball part, that is.

1/28/89
Sunday Supreme.

We are staying with dad for a while because mom went back down to Brockport to take care of things at Grampa's house because Aunt Sue called to say that someone broke in last night! I got Ellen's address and we are going to be pen-pals! So I am going to write Ellen a letter. Dad let me bring my typewriter since it isn't that heavy. Then I'm going to type a story and put it in here so I'll always remember it. Dad is calling me because it's time to play Scrabble. Scrabble is so, so cool. I'm really good, I swear I am. Well, bye for now.

♥
-J

And then we're treated to this lovely drawing of Gretchen, who is apparently a pockmarked, cross-eyed bobblehead with a scrunchy for a body:



Hey, what happened to Jenny's actual pen pal? I seem to have forgotten that plotline in the midst of all of the voyeurism and near-death experiences. But although Kristina Martin (as portrayed by my sister) is never heard from again, the book's folder contains this:

January 21, 1989

Dear Jenny,

My mom and dad are divorced. My dad lives in Florida. I live with my mom and my little brother Ben who is 3½. I also live with my hamster, Snuffy, and my brother's turtle, (he got today) and my brother's turtle's fish (we also got today). My brother didn't name his turtle yet. Do you have any suggestions? Do you have any pets? I have to walk home a girl, also. Her name is Gretchen. She's pesty, too. I like ice-skating, except my mom never has the time to take me.

Yes, my sister did read a lot of Lurlene McDaniels.

My bestfriend is Judy. My X-friend or X-best friend is Veronica. Last year my teacher read us or started reading "The Diary of Anne Frank". I made resolutions in my diary. Did you make resolutions in your diary? We have so much in common. Don't you think? If you don't have any pets tell me what kind of pet you like or want.

Maybe this is what spawned the "gerbil named Tails" revelation?

I'm turning 11 on June 18. I can't wait. I have to eat dinner in 13 minutes I think. Well, I'm running out of paper.

Your truly,
Kristina E. Martin

Okay, now back to our regularly scheduled melodrama.

1/29/89
Merciful Monday

Dear Ashley,

Gretchen asked me to sign her cast as a joke. So, I wrote:

God made rivers
God made lakes
God made Gretchen
Well, we all make mistakes

And I mean it! -Jennifer S.

I HATE U, "CHIPMUNK"

You know she's serious because she signed it "Jennifer." Also, I am plagiarizing the BSC so hard, I probably owe Ann M. Martin royalties. That is the EXACT SAME passive-aggressive rhyme that Kristy scribbled on Claud's cast in Claudia and the Bad Joke. My friends and I were moderately obsessed with it, our favorite variation being:

God made rivers
God made lakes
God made boys
Well, we all make mistakes

Obviously.

So, Gretchen got really mad and tried to hit me with her crutch but Sarah stood up and said to leave me alone and Gretchen was so surprised because Sarah used to be so quiet, not shy, quiet while Abby ran and got the teacher so, Gretchen had to stay after school which serves the little brich right. Sarah said her doctor's appointment was good and that she was all better and healthy. I could tell there was more. So I called her after school to find out - Sarah got her period!

♥
-J

Did the doctor, like, induce her period or something? I don't understand. Ew.

2/1/89
That's Thursday (Today)

Dear Ashley,

Well, it's over. My parents are divorced. It doesn't seem like it's really different. But mom is back and we're staying with her again because dad is moving. So he's packing and we would be in the way. But guess where he's moving to... Maine! And we get to see him for a month each summer and he's going to come down and see us for a week during Winter Break. I was crying when I heard. I am going to miss him so, so much. You don't realize how much you love a person until they are gone... or leaving. But we get to stay with him all next week. This weekend we are going to Brockport with mom and then dad drives down and picks us up and brings us back while mom stays all week and helps. We're leaving tomorrow.

♥
-J

2/2/89
Fabulous Friday

Dear Ashley,

We are driving down to Brockport. I'm in front! I can't wait to see Ellen. Tony's so excited about seeing Janie, he's been babbling about her all day. Right now, he's saying how she wrote him a letter saying that she will show him around town. I'll write letter since mom is trying to read over my shoulder!

While driving?! That doesn't seem safe, Edith.

Well, now it's 9:30. Tony is out at a movie with Janie. I'm baby-sitting Pesty but she's asleep. We ate dinner at Aunt Sue's. That pen was running out. Ellen showed me her friends, Debbie, Michelle, and Kris (Kristin). They are nice, all of them except Michelle, who's conceited. Ellen said she was showing off and sometimes gets carried away making a good impression.

That is totally grossed-out.

But then they were talking about boys at their school and I felt left out, but I didn't say anything. Mom just got back from the hospital. 'Bye.

♥
-J

2/4/89
SUNDAY

Hi! It's Ellen again! I have nothing to say! 'Bye!

Well, so much for Ellen's page. Mom said dad just pulled up and Pesty ran out and I can hear her scream, "Daddy-Poo!" How immature! Well, we're here in the car and it's safe to write. Lucy got to sit in front with dad (she always gets her way, I swear she does) and Tony's asleep. Mom said she has a surprise for us when we come back next weekend. Maybe we are giving Lucy up for adoption!

Ha ha ha ha.

I don't want to go back to school, but I can't wait to see Sarah or Abby. I really don't want to see Gretchen. I still like Todd, but he is really sick. I mean, he is so, so gross. Tony is waking up.

Bye, Ashley.

♥
-J

And then, for whatever reason, there's a picture of a hirsute Muppetlike character. And a pencil. Of course!


2/6/89

Dear Ashley,

Valentine's Day is in 8 days. Guess what, my lucky number is 5. I swear, that is the best number. A little birdie told me so. Me and Sarah and Abby made our valentines at Abby's after school. Abby looks like her dad but her mom is stick-skinny and looks like a model. Can you believe it? I can't.

Yeah, we know you can't.

Guess what else, Sarah has a boyfriend!!! This boy in our class, Ben, asked her yesterday!!! She is in true love and it is good for Sarah because she's never been in love before. I am so, so glad Sarah got over her pneumonia.

You guys, I think it's great that Sarah conquered her fear of death and all, but what the hell? Getting pneumonia makes you assertive AND it will snag you a man?! Where can I get pneumonia???

And guess what, Abby thinks Ben is a major hunk. I think he's pretty ugly and gross, like the rest of the boys at our school, but I didn't say so because they are my best friends and I didn't want to hurt their feelings. I am so, so excited about mom's surprise. Maybe Lucy is a murderer and the police are putting her in a juvenile delinquent prison.

Oh. My. God. AWESOME.

But then I think about dad moving. I mean, Maine is so far away. I'm going to miss him so, so much.

♥
-J

2/8/89

Dear Ashley,

When I grow up I'm going to have a husband and two kids, one boy, one girl. The girl will be older and her name will be Ashley, like you. The boy's name will be Todd, after my long lost love.

Yes, you read that correctly. She's going to name her child AFTER HER DIARY.

I'll be writer of children's books and they'll publish my diaries when I die so I will be remembered but not embarrassed.

I used to think that if I ever became a famous writer and someone published a posthumous volume of my letters, people would be sorely, sorely disappointed.

I guess my husband won't be Todd, since it would be dumb to have two Todds in the family. I have yet to meet my true love. Maybe someday that will come true, but for now all I can think about is Gretchen getting her cast off tomorrow. I'll die. I like her better handicapped, not that I like her at all! Abby is so, so happy! She lost 11 pounds in less than two months, a little over one!

Yeah, I'd say a trip to the pediatrician is in order.

Dad rented a movie for us tonight. It was "The Lost Boys". That's a good movie! Corey Haim is so, so cute! Dad didn't let Lucy watch it because it's rated 'R'! Too bad for the little dirtbag!

♥
-J

2/9/89

Dear Ashley,

Gretchen didn't come to school today. Me and Sarah and Abby have a club called "US". Don't you think it's us? Well, our club is completely against Gretchen. We want revenge. With a capital R.

These girls need a hobby. With a capital H.

Angela McMurphy invited me to her Valentine's Day sleepover party, but I can't go because we are going to Brockport next weekend, just like we are this weekend. Guess what, Abby bought the three of us matching Friendship bracelets for the "US" club. Dad is dropping us off at Brockport today on his way to Maine. So that will be the last time I see dad until the summer. I start crying whenever I think about it.

See, she's not 100% cold-hearted britch. Maybe just 98%.

But today mom tells us her surprise. I can't wait. I'm so, so excited! I swear, it must have something to do with Lucy. I just know it. Dad says it's time to go. His house is empty. Well, good bye, house! Goodbye, Dad. Goodbye, Ashley!

♥
-J

NEXT TIME: The surprise is revealed and—spoiler!—it does not involve Lucy being shipped off to kiddie prison.