September 7

God. I can't believe I have to write this.

Stupid English assignment. This is so stupid, it's not even funny. Happy now? HAPPY???

That's what I was supposed to write, after all. "Give your thoughts on the semester's assignment: keeping a journal (to be written in at least once every three days)." What a stupid, stupid assignment.

Here's a clue, Mrs. Freemont. You aren't getting a confessional out of this. I'm not spilling my deepest secrets to you just to pass English class. Just because this is my second time going through your stupid class doesn't mean you should give me a "special assignment". I'm not an idiot. And I'm not writing more than I have to.

I hate English.

***

September 10

Today's (stupid, stupid) assignment: "You needn't take that tone with me, Ronald. Tell me about yourself."

All right, I'll tell you about myself. But I won't do more than necessary.

Name: Ronald Charles Dupree

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Birthday: January 17

Parents: Clarence and Sheila Dupree

Siblings: One, Katharine Rachel Dupree, 15

Grade: 11th (one more damn year of school)

Best friend: Casey Ryan


Nothing else you need to know about me, except maybe that I'm quarterback on the school football team.

***

September 13

"Come on, Ronald. This isn't a hard assignment. Can't you write a little more about yourself? Why did your parents pick the name Ronald? Do you like your sister? What do you do with your friends? What's your favorite color?"

Reasoning behind name: My grandfather's name is Ronald, at least my mom's dad's is. My other grandfather (who's dead) was Charles. Very simple.

On Kate: Can't stand her. She's always hanging around with her stupid little friends, listening to stupid music. And she's always getting good grades in school. Mom and Dad compare her and me a lot. It's stupid.

Favorite color: Blue




...Fine. Fine. I'll talk some more. My name is Ronald Charles Dupree, but I'm called Ronnie. Please stop calling me Ronald. It's a stupid name. It's not fair. All of my friends have normal names, but no, not me. I'm Ronald Charles, high school geezer-in-training. What a loser name. At least it's not Kate, though.

I'm 17 years old and I've never had a girlfriend. I'm good at football, but that's about it. And math, a little bit. I hate writing, though. Everyone makes a big deal about me playing football, and I think it's really stupid. Wow, I can throw a ball. So can Kate. So can Casey. No one cares that they can. But I can run and score points on a stupid, stupid field and I'm special for it. I don't really like football, even. I've just been playing since I can remember, so I got good at it.

Football is stupid. School is stupid. Everything and everyone is stupid, including me.

***

September 16

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Ronnie. Is there anything you like?"

No.

***

September 19

"Oh, Ronnie, don't start up again. We were getting somewhere."

Oh, shut up. If you're so damn interested in my stupid life, why don't you just follow me around? I don't do much of anything. This is the only homework I do, since I DON'T want to have you AGAIN for a teacher, A THIRD TIME, in THREE STRAIGHT YEARS!!!

It's really stupid that you're the only English teacher. I guess that's what we get for living in Hicksville, New York.

I didn't do anything tonight that you'd be interested in. I stayed at home, watched TV, and listened to Kate play that stupid, stupid, STUPID piano in our living room. And then I wrote this in this stupid, stupid notebook. Happy now?

I filled my quota. I'm going to bed.

***

September 22

"Well, now that you don't seem so moody anymore, Ronnie, I suppose I should assign something again. Please tell me all about your family, down to the tiniest 'stupid' detail."

All right. Only if it means I pass English.

My father is Clarence Dupree. He's a 41 year old man whose only job seems to be to make me play football. All right, he's also a carpenter, but he has NO SOCIAL LIFE. It's all "Ronnie, how about we go play some ball in the yard?" or "Ronnie, you know, we should watch that recording of the last game and find the mistakes you made, so we can fix them next time" every SINGLE NIGHT!!! I hate it. He's always bothering me to be the manly man like he was in his youth. Dad was a big football guy, too, you see. I need to be a stupid jock just like him. He's old-looking already, mostly because he's chain-smoked Marlboros since he was sixteen years old. And Dad's balding and fat and I never want to be like him, never ever in my life. Why would anyone want to be like that? But he's happy, and he's sickening, and he's never done "improving" my stupid football skills.

My mother is a dishrag. She was a stay at home mom until Kate was about twelve, and she's currently looking for a job, since we drive her crazy. She goes along with whatever my father says. I bet if Dad told her, "Hey, Sheila, why don't you go out back and shoot yourself in the head?" and handed her a revolver, she'd do it. She's so STUPID. Except she's not into football. It's grades that make her happy, so of course Kate's the golden child in her eyes. And me? It's "Why can't you do better, Ronnie? It's not that hard to do this homework is it?" And I ignore her, because she's such a dishrag and I can tell Dad that I think that I need to work on passing or something, and he'll get her claws out of me. My mom is just so naive that it sickens me. How can she just blindly agree to everything Dad suggests? Only thing she ever had a say in, to my knowledge, were our names. She insisted that Ronald and Katharine be our first names, rather than Rachel and Charles. Not that it makes much of a difference. She can't get her way in anything but naming us, that's sad.

My sister is a stupid, stupid, stupid person. "Oooooh, look! Isn't he cuuuuute?" Kate and her drippy friends. God, they get on my nerves. So, so stupid. They're the kind of girls who paste pictures of movie stars to their walls and worship them and cover them in lipstick prints.

Kate isn't even supposed to have lipstick, but my parents are so stupid that they don't notice when she buys herself makeup with her stupid, stupid allowance (which is bigger than mine, since she gets better grades). They don't notice anything Kate does that's bad. Of course, she really IS such a golden child--makes me sick--that she doesn't do anything worse than buy some fifty-cent lipstick and eye shadow without asking.

I really hate my family. I have a dog, though, and I like her. I named her Star, because I thought that would be a nice name. She's a yellow lab, so I figured that a light coat would be a good reason to call her Star. Of course, when I got her--I was twelve--my dad had a fit, because he thought I named her after some stupid football player from a long time ago who had the surname Starr. Dad apparently was not a fan of the Starr guy and told me that Unitas would have been a better name, but he's wrong. I like Star. It's pretty, in its own way.

Star's pretty, too, and she's smart. I talk to her when no one else is around, and she listens like she knows what's going on. I don't think she does, but it's nice to see her looking at me like that. I like to play with her, too, and walk with her. Dogs can't correct you or nag you. I wish my family were all dogs, and then I'd rename them and lock them in a kennel, because they'd probably bite. I'd call my mother Rag, my father Starr (just to annoy him), and my sister Goldie. I think the names would fit, too.

God, look how much I wrote. There's all the info you need on my family. Trust me, we're not that interesting.

***

September 25

"I think your family is interesting, Ronnie. Tell me about your friends."

Well, there's Casey, and he's pretty cool. Casey was in your class last year with me, remember? Most people kind of ignore him because he's geeky, but I think he's really fun to hang out with. He always helps me with the homework I do. Not much, but it's nice that he does that. And Casey's got a cool name. Not like Ronald. Ronald is one of the worst names in the entire world.

Casey's not very good at football, but he's okay. We play football on weekends just for fun, but not very often. Casey doesn't like the game very much, and he knows I'm not wild about it, either, so we only do when my dad is paying attention. Otherwise, we talk. Or we play cards or watch tv. We never do anything really interesting, Mrs. Freemont, sorry. It's not very interesting to read about us, either, I bet, but it's your own fault for asking.

My other friends are the guys on the football team. I don't like them very much, though. They're all about football, really stupid people. They don't want to do anything other than play football, watch football, or steal beer from their parents. I don't like the taste of beer very much, so I don't always join them. They make fun of me when I don't. "Hey, Ronnie, you little wuss. Where were you on Saturday?" or "Hey Ronnie, turning into a queer with your little boyfriend?" It's like there's nothing to being a man other than football and beer to them. I don't know if there is, but I bet they're all just morons.

I'm not a queer.

Hey, Mrs. Freemont? You aren't gonna show this to my mom and dad, are you? Or anyone? If you do, I tell them all that you wrote it and I didn't, and they'll believe me, so don't try it.

Don't you show this to anyone.

***

September 28

"Relax, Ronnie. It's confidential. I swear that no one else will read this. So how have you been lately? What's been going on in your life?"

Good. You know you can't show this to anyone, then I'm happy.

Not much hasw happened, other than all the stuff you probably heard about. You know, on Saturday, when Dan Thomas and the other guys got busted at his house? I wasn't there, and I'm glad. They're such losers, if you think about it. They make out like they're so cool because theycan chug a Miller light they stole from their dad's stash, but they aren't really. I think they're really stupid. What kind of an idiot does something like that even though they'll get in trouble?

I don't think I really belong on the football team. Sometimes I wish I was smart like Casey, so I could hang out with him and his other friends more. His friends don't like me much. They probably think I'm just a stupid jock. I mean, I'm stupid and all, but I'm not a jock because I WANT to be. I think the only reason Casey's friends with me is because we've known each other so long. I feel really bad for him, because he's got all these great, smart friends who aren't pushed around by their parents or called queers by their "friends", and then he's got ME. Maybe I'm the lose. I don't know. This is stupid to talk about.

~*~

One month down, three to go! Will poor Ronniekins make it? *evil grin*

See you next time!

Cal