Journal, 11/5/60
So I didn't actually go to school today. Sue me. I didn't ditch on purpose, but I had some meeting with Social Services today; I don't know why. I just got ready for school and this really tall lady with way too much perfume came in with Mrs. Frederic (the director of the orphanage) and started asking me all about my wonderful life. I lied, of course, gave her the impression that I was a sweet wittle girl who was made of sugar. She might have seen through me, though. See, normal little girls don't wear ripped jeans and a T-shirt; they either wear sweater sets (Socs) or as little as possible (Greasers.) So, anyways, she left and we were in a daze, maybe 'cause her perfume was suddenly not stifling us or maybe because that lady was so...cheerful that her departure was like turning off a light in the house.
See, after that I wanted to go to school. Make-up work's a killer. But by that time the bus had already left, the school is too far to walk, and Ms. Frederic doesn't actually own a "gas-guzzler" as she says. The director of the orphanage isn't terrible or anything, but she believes there should be no such thing as idle hands, so I went upstairs and pretended to be doing unfinished homework while I actually wrote in this thing again. Nothing else to write today.
Journal, 11/6/60
School was just as fun as I thought it would be. To start off this wonderful day, I woke up at 4 to some really stupid beetle crawling on my forehead that is now spilling its guts out on the floor. Then I discovered you can never go back to sleep when you actually want to go back to sleep. So I got up, got dressed, and threw a stupid lizard out of my shoe. The day got even better as it progressed.
The bus was 30 minutes late, so I had to walk into homeroom and catch all the stares in the room directed on the bedraggled girl panting in the front of the room. After homeroom, I caught eyes with the gang. It's called 'the gang' because, even though most of us are greasers, we aren't exactly like a big happy family. They, however, would probably die for each other, even though they are really young. The youngest one is only 12 and the oldest one is like 20 but they're still really close. In greaser terms, that's rare because most contact is sexual.
Two-bit, everyone knows him because he greets all the new kids in the office since he's in there so much for pulling pranks. Sodapop is followed by a herd of girls all the time, so he's not hard to miss. Steve is with Sodapop most of the time and he's not too shabby, so the herd of girls grows. Ponyboy and Johnny, really shy people, are really young people in the middle school so they are only famous by the gang. But Dally Winston is the real character. He mainly walks alone, glaring, occasionally tapping his switchblade to remind people who's boss. No one messes with him, even the Socs who think they're all that go quiet when he walks by. I feel sorry for him.
The lady with the ovewhelming perfume came again today, to get documents or whatever. I'm not really suspicious, more like anticipating what'll happen next even though it's probably just a checkup.
Journal, 11/8/10
I'm releted to Dally Winston. Write more later. Help me!