Authors: Meg Cabot
Tags: #Performing Arts, #Humorous Stories, #Student government, #Diaries, #Family, #Juvenile Fiction, #High schools, #Social Issues, #Princesses, #General, #Royalty, #Parties, #Schools, #Fiction, #Multigenerational, #Adolescence
Dear Dr. Carl Jung,
I realize that you are still dead. However, things have suddenly gotten significantly worse, and I’m now convinced I will NEVER transcend my ego and achieve self-actualization.
First I find out I’ve bankrupted the student government and will shortly be killed by the small but extremely strong senior class valedictorian.
Then my short story gets rejected by
Sixteen
magazine.And now my boyfriend thinks I’m going to a party he’s having in his parents’ apartment while they are away.
I can’t really blame him for thinking this, because I sort of said I would go.
But I said I’d go because if I said no, I’ll seem like a killjoy and non-party princess.
Of course, there’s no way I would even be considering going if I didn’t happen to remember that March is not a month in which Michael is allowed to broach the subject of S-E-X to me, since last month was his allotted time to bring it up. So it’s
not like there can be any of THAT on his mind. You know, like, during the party.Still. I will have to socialize with people I don’t know. Which I realize I do all the time in my capacity as princess of Genovia.
But socializing with college students is quite different from socializing with other royals and dignitaries. I mean, other royals and dignitaries don’t tell you all accusingly that your limo is a significant contributor to the destruction of the ozone layer, as oversize cars, such as SUVs and, yes, royal limos, cause 43 percent more global-warming pollution and 47 percent more air pollution than an average car, the way a girl in front of Michael’s dorm pointed out to me last week when I pulled up to visit him.
Could things possibly GET any worse?
I REALLY need to self-actualize. Like, right NOW. PLEASE SEND HELP.
Your friend,
Mia Thermopolis
Wednesday, March 3, Homeroom
In the limo on the way to school this morning, I asked Lilly what her parents could be thinking, letting Michael have a big party in their apartment while they’re away. She was like, “Whatever. Do I look like Ruth and Morty’s keeper?”
Ruth and Morty are Lilly’s parents’ first names. I think it is very disrespectful of her to call her own parents by their given names.
I
don’t even call them by their given names, and they’ve asked me to about a million times.
Still, even considering how long I’ve known them—almost as long as Lilly has—I can only call them Dr. Moscovitz. Sometimes I call them Mr. Dr. Moscovitz and Mrs. Dr. Moscovitz (but only behind their backs) when I need to specify one over the other.
But I’ll never call them Ruth and Morty. Not even when Michael and I are married, and they are my in-laws. They will
always
be the Drs. Moscovitz to me.
“They do realize YOU’RE going to be there, don’t they?” I asked Lilly. “I mean, at the party?”
“Duh,” Lilly said. “Of course. What is the matter with you?”
“Nothing. I just—I’m kind of surprised that your parents are letting Michael have a party when they aren’t home. It’s not like them. That’s all.”
“Yeah, well,” Lilly said, “I think Ruth and Morty have bigger things to worry about.”
“Like what?”
Only I never did find out. Because right then the limo hit one of those huge potholes in front of the entrance to
the FDR, and Lilly and I both went sailing into the air and hit our heads on the sunroof.
So then Lilly made me go to the nurse’s office with her when we got to school, to see if we could get notes to get out of PE, on account of having possible concussions.
But the nurse just laughed at us.
I bet she would have given us notes if she knew they were making us play volleyball. AGAIN. Why can’t we ever do cool sports like Pilates and yoga, like they get to in suburban high school?
It’s so not fair.
Wednesday, March 3, U.S. Economics
Okay, so after what happened yesterday with the government money, I am fully going to start paying attention in this class now:
Scarcity—refers to the tension between our limited resources and our unlimited wants and needs
Some examples of resources we want and need, but which are limited (scarce), include:
Goods
Services
Natural resources
Funds for the rental of gathering halls in which to conduct senior graduation
Because all resources are limited in comparison to our wants and needs, individuals as well as governments have to make decisions regarding what goods and services they can buy and which ones they must forgo.
(For instance, a government might decide that what its population really needs are recycling bins with built-in can crushers inside and the words “Paper, Cans, and Battles” emblazoned across the lids.)
All individuals and governments, each having different levels of (scarce) resources, form some of their values only because they must deal with the problem of resource scarcity.
(If only Amber Cheeseman would learn to value recycling over giving the valedictory address at Alice Tully Hall.)
So, because of scarcity, people and governments must make decisions over how to allocate their resources.
(But that’s what I DID!!! I made a decision about how to allocate AEHS resources—in the form of buying recycling bins—and it turned around and bit me on the butt!!!! Because I allocated incorrectly!!! WHERE IS THE PART ABOUT THIS IN THE TEXTBOOK????)
Wednesday, March 3, English
OMG, Mia! I heard about what happened at the meeting yesterday! The whole running-out-of-money thingg! I can’t believe those recycling bins ended up being so expensive! And those “Cans and Battles” stiickers! I can’t figure out how that happened! I am so sorry!—Tina
It’s okay. They’re replacing the “Cans and Battles” stickers. And we’ll think of some way to get it. The money, I mean. Just don’t tell anyone, all right? We’re trying to keep it a secret until we figure out what we’re going to do.
Totally! I won’t tell a soul! But I had an idea. About how to raise money. Have you seen those scented candles the band was selling to raise money for their trip to Nashville?
WE ARE NOT SELLING SCENTED CANDLES.
It was just a suggestion. I thought they were kind of nice. They have these cute little ones shaped like strawberries.
NO CANDLES.
Okay. But I know I could sell a ton to my aunts and uncles back in Saudi Arabia.
NO CANDLES.
Okay! I get it. No candles. Is there something wrong? I mean, besides the money thing? Because, no offense, but you seem…kinda upset. I mean, about the candles.
It’s not about the candles.
What is it, then?
Nothing. Michael’s parents are going out of town this weekend, and he’s throwing a party in their apartment while they’re gone, and he wants me to come.
But that sounds like fun!
FUN???? Are you crazy??? There are going to be COLLEGE GIRLS there.
So?
So???
What do you mean,
So???
Don’t you see, Tina? If Michael sees me around a bunch of college girls at a party, he’s going to realize I’m not a party girl.
But Mia. You AREN’T a party girl.
I know that! But I don’t want MICHAEL to know that!
But Michael knows you aren’t a party girl. He knew you weren’t much of a party girl when he met you.. I mean, you have NEVER been a party girl. You never even GO to parties. I mean, girls like Lana Weeinberger, THEY go to parties, but not girls like us. We don’t get INVITED to parties. We stay home Saturday nights and watch whatever is on HBO, or maybe we go out with our boyfriends, or have a sleepover with our friends. But we don’t go to PARTIES. It’s not like we’re POPULAR.
Thanks, Tina.
Well, you know what I mean. What’s wrong with not being a party girl? Why can’t you just go to the party and have a good time hanging out and meeting some new people?
Because the whole idea of hanging out with a bunch of cool college girls who are going to think I’m a dorky princess makes my palms feel sweaty.
Ew. But they won’t think you’re a dorky princess, Mia, once they get to know you. Because you AREN’T a dorky princess.
Hello, have you MET me?
Well, okay. You’re a princess. But you’re not a dork. I mean, you’re practically failing Geometry. How dorky is that?
But that’s exactly what I mean! These girls are SMART, they got into an Ivy League university, and I’m…practically failing Geometry.
If you really don’t want to go, why don’t you tell Michael you have to do something with your grandmother that night?
I can’t! Michael was so excited when I said yes!!!! I don’t want to break his heart AGAIN. I mean, it’s bad enough I have to do it every three months when he asks me whether I’ve changed my mind about the whole sex thing (like there’s really a chance I’m going to. And okay, he’s a guy, so it’s not like he’s ever seen Kirsten Dunst’s heart-wrenching portrayal of an unwed teen mom in
Fifteen and Pregnant
on the Lifetime Channel). But still. I am ONLY FIFTEEN. I’m not ready to give up the golden bough of my virginity!
Not until your Senior Prom anyway! On a king-size featherbed at the Four Seasons!
Totally. And while I know Michael is the most faithful and steadfast of lovers, if I don’t go to the party, the lure of an exotic college girl, dancing suggestively on his parents’ coffee table, might be too much even for HIM to resist! Do you see my difficulty now?
Hey you guys. Guess what?
Oh! Hi, Lilly!
Um. Hi, Lilly.
What were you guys just talking about?
Nothing.
Nothing.
Yeah, you so clearly were NOT talking about nothing. But whatever. I think I may have the solution to our financial problems anyway. Guess who said she’d be the advisor for our new literary magazine?
Lilly, I totally appreciate your enthusiasm about this, and all, but a literary magazine isn’t going to generate enough income to make up for what we’ve already lost. In fact, with printing costs and all, it’s just going to cause us to have to spend MORE money we don’t have.
A literary magazine? That sounds like so much fun! And then you’ll have a place to publish “No More Corn!”, Mia!
I can’t let “No More Corn!” be printed in a school literary magazine.
Oh, I suppose your story is too good to be in a mere student-published periodical.
That’s not it at all. I just don’t want the Guy Who Hates It When They Put Corn in the Chili to read it. I mean, come on. He KILLS himself at the end.
Oh! That WOULD be awkward! I mean, if he realized the story is about him. It might hurt his feelings.
Exactly.
Funny how this didn’t worry you when you were trying to get your story published in
Sixteen
, a national magazine with a million readers.