Sunday, January 29, 2006

Feb. 17, 1987

For some reason, I only wrote 2 entries in the Modern Composition Book. Perhaps I was unwittingly saving it in its pristine state so it would be worth more on Ebay. We now fast-forward to February 17, 1987.
Well, now I am contemplating whether to quit school or to retire (oh, the foreshadowing to 2006!!!) I am in BIG trouble with BW. Dad called him up and told him that B. was really pissing him (Dad) off. Just great! Now I have to practically live behind B. Just stay out of his way, that's what I do. But my parents think otherwise. Well, aside of that, today was pretty good. In history, we did our skit and it was SO bad. So D. asked Mrs. Jones if we could do it again. We can. L. brought in her Watchman, but nothing good was on. Man! I have to get some sleep tonight! Bye and (maybe) farewell! I hate and do not understand algebra!

The story behind the entry: So, I was at the kitchen table, doing my homework, and Dad sat down to do the crossword puzzle. "Gimme a pencil, " he said. I hesitated. BW had stolen my entire purse, so I didn't have a pencil, not to mention self-esteem and confidence. "Uh, I don't have one," I muttered. "Get one out of your purse," Dad said, looking at the paper and planning his answers. He looked up when I didn't answer. "Where's your purse?" I could hold it in no longer. "BW stole it when we were walking out to the busses! I hate him!"
My dad flipped out. "Are you shitting me?! This is it! I'm sick of his bullshit!" He stormed into the other room and opened the phone book. I heard him dialing. My stomach flipflopped and moved north to my throat.
"Is this BW?....This is Mr. Walker, Allison's father. I hear you have Allison's purse, is this true?....Well listen, B, you've really pissed me off this time. You better get it back to her tomorrow, and if I ever hear your name again in my house, you're gonna pay for it, understood?"
Dad came back to the kitchen table. "You'll get your purse back tomorrow."
The kidnapped purse was actually rather ugly. It was shades of ecru, taupe, and grey. Imagine pieces of yarn laid next to eachother and stitched to a backing fabric. I don't know what I was thinking. But hey, it was 1987.

1 comment:

matthew said...

Jesus F*ing Christ! So, who is this BM?