And what about condoms??? Do people my mother’s age think they are immune to sexually transmitted diseases? They are obviously not immune to pregnancy, so what gives?
This isso like my mother. She can’t even remember to buy toilet paper. How is she going to remember to use birth control????????
Monday, October 20, Algebra
I can’t believe this. I really can’t believe this.
She hasn’t told him. My mother is having my Algebra teacher’s baby,and she hasn’t even told him.
I can tell she hasn’t told him, because when I walked in this morning, all Mr. Gianini said was, “Oh, hi, Mia. How are you doing?”
Oh, hi, Mia. How are you doing?????
That is not what you say to someone whose mother is having your baby. You say something like, “Excuse me, Mia, may I see you a moment?”
Then you take the daughter of the woman with whom you have committed this heinous indiscretion out into the hallway, where you fall on bended knee to grovel and beg for her approval and forgiveness. That is what you do.
I can’t help staring at Mr. G and wondering what my new baby brother or sister is going to look like. My mom is totally hot, like Carmen Sandiego, only without the trench coat—further proof that I am a biological anomaly, since I inherited neither my mother’s thick curly black mane of hair nor her C cup. So there’s nothing to worry about there.
But Mr. G, I just don’t know. Not that Mr. G isn’t good-looking, I guess. I mean, he’s tall and has all his hair (score one for Mr. G, since my dad’s as bald as a parking meter). But what is with his nostrils? I totally can’t figure it out. They are just so . . .big.
I sincerely hope the kid gets my mom’s nostrils and Mr. G’s ability to divide fractions in his head.
The sad thing is, Mr. Gianini doesn’t have the slightest idea what is about to befall him. I would feel sorry for him if it weren’t for the fact that it is all his fault. I know it takes two to tango, but please, my mother is a painter. He is an Algebra teacher.
You tell me who is supposed to be the responsible one.
Monday, October 20, English
Great. Just great.
As if things aren’t bad enough, now our English teacher says we have to complete ajournal this semester. I am not kidding. Ajournal. Like I don’t already keep one.
And get this: At the end of every week, we’re supposed toturn our journals in. For Mrs. Spears toread. Because she wants to get to know us. We are supposed to begin by introducing ourselves, and listing our pertinent stats. Later, we are supposed to move on to recording our innermost thoughts and emotions.
She has got to be joking. Like I am going to allow Mrs. Spears to be privy to my innermost thoughts and emotions. I won’t even tell my innermost thoughts and emotions to mymother. Would I tell them to myEnglish teacher?
And I can’t possibly turnthis journal in. There’s all sorts of stuff in here I don’t want anyone to know. Like how my mother is pregnant by my Algebra teacher, for instance.
Well, I will just have to start a new journal. Afake journal. Instead of recording my innermost emotions and feelings in it, I’ll just write a bunch of lies, and hand that in instead.
I am such an accomplished liar, I very highly doubt Mrs. Spears will know the difference.
ENGLISH JOURNAL
by Mia Thermopolis
KEEP OUT!!!
THIS MEANS YOU,
UNLESS YOU ARE MRS. SPEARS!!!!!!
An Introduction
NAME:
Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo
Known as Mia for short.
Her Royal Highness the princess of Genovia or just Princess Mia in some circles.
AGE:
Fourteen
YR IN SCHOOL:
Freshman
SEX:
Haven’t had it yet. Ha, ha, just kidding, Mrs. Spears!
Ostensibly female, but lack of breast size lends disturbing androgyny.
DESCRIPTION:
Five foot nine
Short mouse-brown hair (new blond highlights)
Gray eyes
Size ten shoe
The rest is not worth remarking on.
PARENTS:
Mother: Helen Thermopolis
OCCUPATION:
Painter
FATHER:
Artur Christoff Phillipe Gerard Grimaldi Renaldo
OCCUPATION:
Prince of Genovia
PARENTS’ MARITAL STATUS:
Because I am the result of a fling my mother and father had in college, they never married (each other) and are both currently single. It is probably better this way, since all they ever do is fight.
With each other, I mean.
PETS:
One cat, Fat Louie. Orange and white, Louie weighs twenty-five pounds. Louie is eight years old, and has been on a diet for approximately six of those years. When Louie is upset with us for, say, forgetting to feed him, he eats any socks he might find lying around. Also, he is attracted to small glittery things, and has quite a collection of beer bottle caps and tweezers which he thinks I don’t know about, hidden behind the toilet in my bathroom.
BEST FRIEND:
My best friend is Lilly Moscovitz. Lilly has been my best friend since kindergarten. She is fun to hang out with because she is very very smart and has her own public access television show,Lilly Tells It Like It Is. She is always thinking up fun things to do, like steal the foamboard sculpture of the Parthenon that the Greek and Latin Derivatives class made for Parents’ Night and hold it for a ransom of ten pounds of lime Starbursts.
Not that that was us, Mrs. Spears. I am just using that as an example of the type of crazy thing Lillymight do.
BOYFRIEND:
Ha! I wish.
ADDRESS:
I have lived all of my life inNew York City with my mother, except for summers, which I have traditionally spent with my father at his mother’s chateau inFrance . My father’s primary residence is Genovia, a small country inEurope located on theMediterranean between the Italian and French border. For a long time I was led to believe that my father was an important politician in Genovia, like the mayor, or something. Nobody told me that he was actually a member of the Genovian royal family—that he was, in fact, the reigning monarch, Genovia being a principality. I guess nobody ever would have told me, either, if my dad hadn’t gotten testicular cancer and become sterile, making me, his illegitimate daughter, the only heir he’ll ever have to his throne. Ever since he finally let me in on thisslightly important little secret (a month ago) Dad has been living at the Plaza Hotel here inNew York , while his mother, my grandmère, the dowager princess, teaches me what I need to know in order to be his heir.