Mandella's Diary, part five!
I have excuses…if you want them…for taking a month to write one chapter…here they are:
I didn't think anyone cared for a little while there.
I had to pack and buy junk because I went out of the country for Easter vacation.
I went out of the country for nine days…couldn't very well type then.
I got sick as anything when I got back, so I could barely type up a chapter I was almost finished with before I left of "Fate."
And I got lazy, too. (
But I have some good news, for all you loyal fans out there…
I'm not gonna update anything until I finish completely Mandella's Dairy. I have it all written down. If I flip pages for a while, I can see the end. I know the end of the movie is there…can almost see it…ahhh! The light the light! Stay away from the light!!!!
Ok. Back to normal (define normal-bogy Lowenstine's party is normal!- what's a bogey Lowenstine?~ sorry. I don't care if the quotes were quoted right, or in the right order. I just like them) now.
Part five
Wait.
WAIT!
Asail your ears for one minute!!!
Noo!! Don't read any more!!!!
NOOOOOO!!!
* after thought – if they don't read anymore, how they know what I am saying??? Hmm…*
READ THIS!
UNBLOCK YOUR EARS!!!
UNBLOCK THEM!!!!
UN-ASAIL THEM NOW!
REALLY!
PLEASE!
Pretty please?
With a cherry and some suyrp and sprinkles, and cookie dough and bananas and strawberries, and M'n'M's, and gummie bears, and coconuts and the lil heart things you get at valentine's day, and um..um… ok…my sundae is getting to sugary and it's making me sick…. On top…please read this?
Thank you.
Now, the disclaimer (which I forgot) is the urgant news. I know it doesn't effect most, but it could, in some little way. If Leo Dicaprio in "Romeo and Juliet" would have stopped and looked down at the lil urgent message, he woulda lived. Or if Juliet (Claire?) would have actually said something when Romeo was drinking the yellow stuff, instead of just staring at him…they woulda been ok…actually, Romeo would still get in trouble for holding the dude hostage…but he shouldn't have been in exile anyways b/c if it really was modern day, there would have been a court hearing for Romeo, who was kinda trying to defend himself when he killed Tybalt…or not…well, that's what a good lawyer would say…
Or how about in the freaking patriot? Wait, nope, Gabriel was gonna do that no matter what…Save the last dance? Hmmm? What if the mom had looked up one second before she slammed into the truck? Or in titanic, if Rose would have waited two seconds to see that Jack was actually breathing? (hey, it could have happened!) …or just…um… well, it pays to wait two seconds. My last example: you, on your cell phone to your lawyer, claiming that I stole somebody that is your character under trademark and/or copyright, and IF YOU JUST WOULD HAVE TAKEN THE TIME you would save lawyer money in court b/c you would see my disclaimer, which I now offically state, THAT ALL I OWN IS ANNA AND THE "KING-JERK-STALKER-MAN-LAIR- CREEP REFERANCE IS FROM THE BOOK. NOT ME. So be kind and put the phone down.
Have a nice day. : )
Ok, here is part 5. For real. Since I babbled so much, I'll write an extra long chapter for you, how about that? Deal.
May 7th, 1999, Just before I leave for the dance
Oh, I'm nervous…but why?
Good news: Kat has decided to go to the prom. She called about 7hours ago, but I was out getting a pedicure and a manicure. I couldn't belive it when I heard her message on my machine. "Hey, it's me. Bianca's going, and so I'm going. Um, don't call, we'll be out shopping last minute for my dress. Not going for Patrick, the jerk. Later on that. For Bianca. Told her the Joey story. Se ya there." And that was it. An orange could have eaisily fit inside my mouth, my jaw was droped so. SHE TOLD THE JOEY STORY! I was the only other person to know, other than Kat 'n' Joey. Ewwww. Even their names sound bad together. But enough about that. I'm too excited!
And I heard about what Patrick did. And what Kat did in return. The ENTIRE school was talking about it. I saw him sing to her. (Her fellow teammates chattered about that for the next 24 hours, nonstop.) Soccer Practice bleachers are becoming a popular hangout for me. Patrick went full out when he sang, too! He sang an old song "You're Just Too Good To Be True." When he got to the loud part, even our marching band got into the act and played/marched along! Kat's smile was as wide as…the sun. As as bright as it too.
However, the "concert" stopped when Patrick was taken down by two securaty guards. But then Kat came to his rescue from the dark, depressing depths of detention. According to what I've heard in the locker rooms, her method was incrediblly un-superheroish. She distracted her soccer coach (who had detention duty) buy making up something about a soccer game. After Patrick was almost caught, Kat knew she had to get coach Chippin's FULL attention---so she lifted up her shirt and flashed him!
They make such a sweet couple.
Sigh.
-Mandella
May 8th, 1999, After The Dance
Oh My Goodness.
What a night!
It was oh-so-good…yet oh-so-very-very-bad, but still so oh-so-good.
I couldn't belive it…it started out like a fairy tale. I spent an hour and a half having my hair done, and then forever redo-ing my manicure…and feeling, well, beautiful. Highly novel for me. When my older sister, Anna- 8 years my senior, went to the prom I was up in my room, tear- streaked. I was feeling left out, because my sister was always going off to dances, and getting all "prettied-up". It seemed like my parents never cared about me, never payed attention to me, or anything. They really did love me, but like a lot of ten-year-olds, if never seems that way when your older sister gets something gorgeous and you don't.
Anna didn't even notice the little ten-year-old sticking out her tongue and then biting her thumb (yup-even crazed then). I felt like the ugly duckling for Hans Christian Anderson's story. But yesterday, I turned into the swan.
I arrived late to the dance. Within a few minutes, I spotted Kat dancing with Patrick. I ran up to her. "Where is he?!?" I cried. Kat didn't understand, so I calmed down a bit, though it was hard. I mean, it's not everyday your dead idol gives you a dress and asks you to the prom. "William! He asked me to meet him here."
Kat looked concerned and stared into my eyes. In an almost mocking way, she asked, "Oh, honey, PLEASE tell me we haven't progressed to full-on hallucinations."
I stopped. I told myself that people (except possibly Elvis * smiles * ) couldn't possibly come back to life. "A trick." I thought. "An elaborate trick." But before I broke down into tears, Patrick (the sweetie, my savior—for the moment--) tapped on my shoulder, and pointed toward the stage.
I followed his finger.
And gasped.
Michael. In full Shakespeare costume.
William who???
That was the oh-so-good part.
The oh-so-bad part wasn't bad for me, except killing my dreams of Shakespeare. Kat found out that Patrick was being paid.
By Joey. I didn't know that.
Did I? Well, I certantily knew that her father wouldn't be the supplier. I guess I thought it was Cameron. I can't remember. I wanted to cry for her. Some little part of me hoped she wouldn't find out. Ha.
But then Joey got his butt kicked. By Bianca, of all people. That was the last oh-so-good part.
Bianca screamed "that was for my date!" * punch * "that is for my sister" * yet again * "and THAT * ohhhhhh * is for me." Yup, well, Joey won't be getting HER virginity…or anyone else's any time soon. I'm crying. Really. NOT!
And then it got better. Bianca led Cameron away, and soon Joey was lying, scrunched-back-up on the ballroom floor. Soon he was surrounded by the odd cliques. The coffe kids, The Cowboys, Our Future MBA's, and the White Rastas. They peered down in hungry silence for fear of disturbing their next meal. One W.R. spoke up. "Very uncool, my brother."
Joey, still holding himself, glared up with his black eye and bloody nose. "I am NOT your brother, white boy." He snapped.
The white Rastas gasped as one with their world suddenly diillusioned…they weren't happy to have been brought back to reality.
So they beat the snot out of Joey.
The other cliques, ready to give back years of insults, joined in.
Only "my" Trevor hung back, still ungrasping his skin's lack of pigments. He looked to me for hope, as though I really were from South Africa, and really could free him. I shrugged, feeling a bit bad, but continue dancing with Michael. Trevor, admiting defeat, joined in with his hungary "brothers". My bet is that they'll recover and go back to being "black" by Monday.
-Mandella
May 8th, 1999, 2:30 p.m., at home
Kat called me earlier today. "I hate him." She responded after my cheery hello. I told her that she didn't, really. Then she said that she did. That she hated him more than her mother or Joey.
"Now, wait, Kat. You didn't let him explain."
"Explain?!? That King-Jerk-Stalker-Man-Lair-Creep was paid to go out with me. By Joey!" Wow. Kat doesn't usually stoop to name calling. But she continued. "You don't sound surprised."
"Oh, I am. Really. Honest. I-I am just too shocked to say anything."
Her voice lowered to ice cold. I could practically see the flames, however, in her eyes. "Mandella, how long have I known you?"
"Um…forever?" I answered meekly.
"And HAVE YOU EVER been able to lie to me before, and me not know?"
"Nooo. Kat, I-"
"AND SO WHY DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH IT NOW?"
Shoot. I realised there was no way I could back out of this, so I confessed. "Yes, okay, Yes, I knew Patrick was being paid to go out with you so Bianca could go out with Cameron. But I didn't know it was Joey. Not until you found out." There was no answer, but I knew she was listening. "Look, I'm sorry, Kat, I really am. I just…well…see I was told by Michael… and I swore not to tell you. And I didn't really want to because you were happy, and Bianca was happy, and I was happy…and it was exactly like one of William's plays…so I thought it would end the same and be happy."
"Mandella, Shakespeare wrote fictional tradgeties." The ice was still there. I had to melt it.
"It was only one lie."
"What? You or him?"
"KAT!"
"He said he was in Milwalkee nursing his sick Grandfather. Another 'little white lie' to get me to go out with him so he can get a paycheck."
I stepped in for Patrick's defence, it wasn't his fault he wasn't here. And I didn't expect that our call would turn to a "best-friend and prom-date" bashing time. "That could be the truth. You let people belive a lot of things about you. Do you really it's possible to eat a live duck?"
She laughed. "This coming from the girl who thought that Shakespeare came back to life, snuck into our high school, bought the ONLY fanatic in our school a dress, and asked her to the prom?" She had forgiven me.
"And besides, after Joey tore up Patrick for 'not doing his job right' and you stormed out, PATRICK RAN AFTER YOU. Obviously, he wasn't going to get paid anymore, but he still wanted to make amends. He cares about you, Kat."
After a long silence, Kat responded. "I have to do my homework for Mr. Morgan's class. Re-write sonnet 141 by your 'dead white guy'."
I smiled, veagualy remebering it. "…In faith, I do not love thee with mine own eyes, Right?"
"Mmm-hmmm." Kat agreed.
Then we said goodbye and hung up. But I wonder how much good I actually did.
-Mandella
A/N : YEAH!!! Very long and good, no? PLEASE REVIEW!!! And I have to update this ONE MORE TIME…and then it will be finished. * Sob* I love this story…my first little fic…* tear *
I have excuses…if you want them…for taking a month to write one chapter…here they are:
I didn't think anyone cared for a little while there.
I had to pack and buy junk because I went out of the country for Easter vacation.
I went out of the country for nine days…couldn't very well type then.
I got sick as anything when I got back, so I could barely type up a chapter I was almost finished with before I left of "Fate."
And I got lazy, too. (
But I have some good news, for all you loyal fans out there…
I'm not gonna update anything until I finish completely Mandella's Dairy. I have it all written down. If I flip pages for a while, I can see the end. I know the end of the movie is there…can almost see it…ahhh! The light the light! Stay away from the light!!!!
Ok. Back to normal (define normal-bogy Lowenstine's party is normal!- what's a bogey Lowenstine?~ sorry. I don't care if the quotes were quoted right, or in the right order. I just like them) now.
Part five
Wait.
WAIT!
Asail your ears for one minute!!!
Noo!! Don't read any more!!!!
NOOOOOO!!!
* after thought – if they don't read anymore, how they know what I am saying??? Hmm…*
READ THIS!
UNBLOCK YOUR EARS!!!
UNBLOCK THEM!!!!
UN-ASAIL THEM NOW!
REALLY!
PLEASE!
Pretty please?
With a cherry and some suyrp and sprinkles, and cookie dough and bananas and strawberries, and M'n'M's, and gummie bears, and coconuts and the lil heart things you get at valentine's day, and um..um… ok…my sundae is getting to sugary and it's making me sick…. On top…please read this?
Thank you.
Now, the disclaimer (which I forgot) is the urgant news. I know it doesn't effect most, but it could, in some little way. If Leo Dicaprio in "Romeo and Juliet" would have stopped and looked down at the lil urgent message, he woulda lived. Or if Juliet (Claire?) would have actually said something when Romeo was drinking the yellow stuff, instead of just staring at him…they woulda been ok…actually, Romeo would still get in trouble for holding the dude hostage…but he shouldn't have been in exile anyways b/c if it really was modern day, there would have been a court hearing for Romeo, who was kinda trying to defend himself when he killed Tybalt…or not…well, that's what a good lawyer would say…
Or how about in the freaking patriot? Wait, nope, Gabriel was gonna do that no matter what…Save the last dance? Hmmm? What if the mom had looked up one second before she slammed into the truck? Or in titanic, if Rose would have waited two seconds to see that Jack was actually breathing? (hey, it could have happened!) …or just…um… well, it pays to wait two seconds. My last example: you, on your cell phone to your lawyer, claiming that I stole somebody that is your character under trademark and/or copyright, and IF YOU JUST WOULD HAVE TAKEN THE TIME you would save lawyer money in court b/c you would see my disclaimer, which I now offically state, THAT ALL I OWN IS ANNA AND THE "KING-JERK-STALKER-MAN-LAIR- CREEP REFERANCE IS FROM THE BOOK. NOT ME. So be kind and put the phone down.
Have a nice day. : )
Ok, here is part 5. For real. Since I babbled so much, I'll write an extra long chapter for you, how about that? Deal.
May 7th, 1999, Just before I leave for the dance
Oh, I'm nervous…but why?
Good news: Kat has decided to go to the prom. She called about 7hours ago, but I was out getting a pedicure and a manicure. I couldn't belive it when I heard her message on my machine. "Hey, it's me. Bianca's going, and so I'm going. Um, don't call, we'll be out shopping last minute for my dress. Not going for Patrick, the jerk. Later on that. For Bianca. Told her the Joey story. Se ya there." And that was it. An orange could have eaisily fit inside my mouth, my jaw was droped so. SHE TOLD THE JOEY STORY! I was the only other person to know, other than Kat 'n' Joey. Ewwww. Even their names sound bad together. But enough about that. I'm too excited!
And I heard about what Patrick did. And what Kat did in return. The ENTIRE school was talking about it. I saw him sing to her. (Her fellow teammates chattered about that for the next 24 hours, nonstop.) Soccer Practice bleachers are becoming a popular hangout for me. Patrick went full out when he sang, too! He sang an old song "You're Just Too Good To Be True." When he got to the loud part, even our marching band got into the act and played/marched along! Kat's smile was as wide as…the sun. As as bright as it too.
However, the "concert" stopped when Patrick was taken down by two securaty guards. But then Kat came to his rescue from the dark, depressing depths of detention. According to what I've heard in the locker rooms, her method was incrediblly un-superheroish. She distracted her soccer coach (who had detention duty) buy making up something about a soccer game. After Patrick was almost caught, Kat knew she had to get coach Chippin's FULL attention---so she lifted up her shirt and flashed him!
They make such a sweet couple.
Sigh.
-Mandella
May 8th, 1999, After The Dance
Oh My Goodness.
What a night!
It was oh-so-good…yet oh-so-very-very-bad, but still so oh-so-good.
I couldn't belive it…it started out like a fairy tale. I spent an hour and a half having my hair done, and then forever redo-ing my manicure…and feeling, well, beautiful. Highly novel for me. When my older sister, Anna- 8 years my senior, went to the prom I was up in my room, tear- streaked. I was feeling left out, because my sister was always going off to dances, and getting all "prettied-up". It seemed like my parents never cared about me, never payed attention to me, or anything. They really did love me, but like a lot of ten-year-olds, if never seems that way when your older sister gets something gorgeous and you don't.
Anna didn't even notice the little ten-year-old sticking out her tongue and then biting her thumb (yup-even crazed then). I felt like the ugly duckling for Hans Christian Anderson's story. But yesterday, I turned into the swan.
I arrived late to the dance. Within a few minutes, I spotted Kat dancing with Patrick. I ran up to her. "Where is he?!?" I cried. Kat didn't understand, so I calmed down a bit, though it was hard. I mean, it's not everyday your dead idol gives you a dress and asks you to the prom. "William! He asked me to meet him here."
Kat looked concerned and stared into my eyes. In an almost mocking way, she asked, "Oh, honey, PLEASE tell me we haven't progressed to full-on hallucinations."
I stopped. I told myself that people (except possibly Elvis * smiles * ) couldn't possibly come back to life. "A trick." I thought. "An elaborate trick." But before I broke down into tears, Patrick (the sweetie, my savior—for the moment--) tapped on my shoulder, and pointed toward the stage.
I followed his finger.
And gasped.
Michael. In full Shakespeare costume.
William who???
That was the oh-so-good part.
The oh-so-bad part wasn't bad for me, except killing my dreams of Shakespeare. Kat found out that Patrick was being paid.
By Joey. I didn't know that.
Did I? Well, I certantily knew that her father wouldn't be the supplier. I guess I thought it was Cameron. I can't remember. I wanted to cry for her. Some little part of me hoped she wouldn't find out. Ha.
But then Joey got his butt kicked. By Bianca, of all people. That was the last oh-so-good part.
Bianca screamed "that was for my date!" * punch * "that is for my sister" * yet again * "and THAT * ohhhhhh * is for me." Yup, well, Joey won't be getting HER virginity…or anyone else's any time soon. I'm crying. Really. NOT!
And then it got better. Bianca led Cameron away, and soon Joey was lying, scrunched-back-up on the ballroom floor. Soon he was surrounded by the odd cliques. The coffe kids, The Cowboys, Our Future MBA's, and the White Rastas. They peered down in hungry silence for fear of disturbing their next meal. One W.R. spoke up. "Very uncool, my brother."
Joey, still holding himself, glared up with his black eye and bloody nose. "I am NOT your brother, white boy." He snapped.
The white Rastas gasped as one with their world suddenly diillusioned…they weren't happy to have been brought back to reality.
So they beat the snot out of Joey.
The other cliques, ready to give back years of insults, joined in.
Only "my" Trevor hung back, still ungrasping his skin's lack of pigments. He looked to me for hope, as though I really were from South Africa, and really could free him. I shrugged, feeling a bit bad, but continue dancing with Michael. Trevor, admiting defeat, joined in with his hungary "brothers". My bet is that they'll recover and go back to being "black" by Monday.
-Mandella
May 8th, 1999, 2:30 p.m., at home
Kat called me earlier today. "I hate him." She responded after my cheery hello. I told her that she didn't, really. Then she said that she did. That she hated him more than her mother or Joey.
"Now, wait, Kat. You didn't let him explain."
"Explain?!? That King-Jerk-Stalker-Man-Lair-Creep was paid to go out with me. By Joey!" Wow. Kat doesn't usually stoop to name calling. But she continued. "You don't sound surprised."
"Oh, I am. Really. Honest. I-I am just too shocked to say anything."
Her voice lowered to ice cold. I could practically see the flames, however, in her eyes. "Mandella, how long have I known you?"
"Um…forever?" I answered meekly.
"And HAVE YOU EVER been able to lie to me before, and me not know?"
"Nooo. Kat, I-"
"AND SO WHY DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH IT NOW?"
Shoot. I realised there was no way I could back out of this, so I confessed. "Yes, okay, Yes, I knew Patrick was being paid to go out with you so Bianca could go out with Cameron. But I didn't know it was Joey. Not until you found out." There was no answer, but I knew she was listening. "Look, I'm sorry, Kat, I really am. I just…well…see I was told by Michael… and I swore not to tell you. And I didn't really want to because you were happy, and Bianca was happy, and I was happy…and it was exactly like one of William's plays…so I thought it would end the same and be happy."
"Mandella, Shakespeare wrote fictional tradgeties." The ice was still there. I had to melt it.
"It was only one lie."
"What? You or him?"
"KAT!"
"He said he was in Milwalkee nursing his sick Grandfather. Another 'little white lie' to get me to go out with him so he can get a paycheck."
I stepped in for Patrick's defence, it wasn't his fault he wasn't here. And I didn't expect that our call would turn to a "best-friend and prom-date" bashing time. "That could be the truth. You let people belive a lot of things about you. Do you really it's possible to eat a live duck?"
She laughed. "This coming from the girl who thought that Shakespeare came back to life, snuck into our high school, bought the ONLY fanatic in our school a dress, and asked her to the prom?" She had forgiven me.
"And besides, after Joey tore up Patrick for 'not doing his job right' and you stormed out, PATRICK RAN AFTER YOU. Obviously, he wasn't going to get paid anymore, but he still wanted to make amends. He cares about you, Kat."
After a long silence, Kat responded. "I have to do my homework for Mr. Morgan's class. Re-write sonnet 141 by your 'dead white guy'."
I smiled, veagualy remebering it. "…In faith, I do not love thee with mine own eyes, Right?"
"Mmm-hmmm." Kat agreed.
Then we said goodbye and hung up. But I wonder how much good I actually did.
-Mandella
A/N : YEAH!!! Very long and good, no? PLEASE REVIEW!!! And I have to update this ONE MORE TIME…and then it will be finished. * Sob* I love this story…my first little fic…* tear *