This is silly. It is also what happens when your mother starts taking psychology classes at the community college. Last night, she found out that teenagers are irrational, emotional and must have healthy outlets for their frustrations or they will turn into serial killers. And since I am a teenager, and a girl, I suppose, she assumes that I am just one bad day from pipe bombs and the Trench Coat Mafia. Or worse, that I might join some sort of club that quickly becomes a cult. So she has assigned me a diary and I am supposed to make entries every day. I am very tempted to fill this with nothing but lies about my promiscuity and drug abuse just in case she starts checking my work, but that would be very un-Christianly of me.
So, where to begin? This is where having drama in my life would be useful. And here I am, drama-less. I thought high school was where all the excitement happens, like on tv and movies. There’s the cliques and bullies and stuff. I’ve been a freshman for a whole week now and no one has shoved my head down the toilet or even seemed to notice I’m there at all. I thought I was total bully bait. I wear thick glasses. I’m built more like a pear than an hourglass (where, o where are the boobs you promised me, Mother Nature?!?). I’m a ginger, which I suppose is only teaseable on the BBC tv shows. Not to mention I have a twin brother who is gorgeous. The comparison alone is a lesson on how cruel Fate can be. Add to that my participation in chess club, the student orchestra and decathlon and I am Grade A geek. Still, nothing doing. I am just another in the crowd.
That’s what is so funny about my mom’s insistence that I need to let out my repressed emotions. I don’t have any. I am more ticked off about her making me write all this junk down (and not, btw, making my brother do it, too). Benji and I are the youngest of 5 kids and my other brothers are perfectly balanced adults now. Chris is married (to a nice Korean girl he didn’t order from a magazine) and they’re on their second kid. Neil is finishing up his Masters in Interior Design (Benji says he’s batting for the other team? I don’t understand sports references). Terry’s living with his girl friend and is between jobs right now since he quit McDonald’s (they didn’t appreciate his creativity, or so Dad said when I asked). I don’t see what Mom’s so worried about. At least none of us have super powers.
There’s a kid in my class that got recruited by the Council, I think. Benji says it’s all rumors and that he just moved away since they don’t recruit anyone younger than 16. But still…he was about the best in everything in PE during elementary and middle school and he couldn’t be the first kid to ever present early. It’s all to do with hormones and stuff, though I’ve heard that sometimes powers present at birth. Makes me wonder if I do have powers and that’s why I look so different from my brothers. They all have blonde or brown hair and brown eyes, just like my parents. Mom says that her twin brother had the same coloring as me, but he died before I was born so I’m totally suspicious. My abilities so far are…um…super test taking…uh…bully avoidance and…I can hold my breath for a really long time. Must be almost a minute now. It helps with the only sport I do really well: swim team. (Cross country is fun, but I’m definitely not a track star…)
I must admit defeat, I guess. There’s no way I could be a super hero. I would look stupid in their uniforms (can I wear glasses with a mask?) and it would take me forever to get to a crime scene because of all the sunscreen I have to wear just to go outside. Oh, well. It’s not like it’s a life I’d want. No social life, for one. Always having to run off to help complete strangers, having to pose for the media and give speeches and trying to come up with a theme. Lady Fabulous is the best (well, she would be as the Alpha, right?). She has a Fabubelt, Fabuphone, Fabrocket boots, a Fabulair and Lord only knows how many other accessories. I don’t know how she does it. I guess it helps to have sponsors so she doesn’t really have to hold down a day job. I bet if Sylvia Brooks wasn’t her benefactor, she wouldn’t be so well equipped. Then again, maybe the Council finances her since she’s the Alpha.
Wow. I just read this over and it’s worse than I thought. I am soooooo lame. No boy friend. No drugs. No drinking. No tormentors, unless you count 4 brothers. No suicidal or homicidal tendencies. Nothing to freak out Mom at all. Hmmm. I suppose I could admit that I’m a Christian. Oh, if she ever found out she’d send me to a de-brainwashing camp. It’s not like I’m Catholic or anything. It was those priests that did all those attacks and they were from some monastery in the middle of Europe. And the heroes took them out real quick. And that happened when I was in kindergarten or something. Still, I’m not coming out to anybody any time soon. I think Benji might be suspicious, but how bad a twin would he be if he wasn’t? I wonder what he’d say if he found my fish necklace? Or my Bible? Not that he would since I hid that in the one place he’ll never look: my pad stash. And my necklace is always safe under my shirt. I don’t think he’d tell anyone, but I’d rather not put him in that position. It’s really dangerous to be a Believer when you have a neighborhood hero. People are so quick to jump to conclusions.
Well, I have about 2 minutes worth of homework to do and a stupid English book to read, so I’ll stop rambling for today. Maybe the next time Mom makes me “vent” I’ll actually have something to vent about.