2001-10-22

Part Two

Sixth Grade, Saint Paul's School - Hingham, MA I desperately wanted to be Harriet the Spy. Desperately. As such, I started keeping dossiers on my classmates. Most of my writings took umbrage at the Alpha Female of Sixth Grade, a certain Mary Onafrolled (not her real name, exactly). I was at the cusp of adolescence, where I still felt self-confident enough to point out bullshit when, and where, it stinks. Unfortunately, I was also stupid enough to believe that nobody in my class of 24 or so, most of whom had known me since Kindergarten, had any idea that I kept such a notebook in my desk. In short, the notebook was taken out of my desk one afternoon, meticulously copied by two classmates, and returned to my desk, while the copy was circulated throughout the classroom.

It was, in short, the Worst Day of My Entire Life.

Eventually, it blew over (I will gloss over the months spent in therapy, at an enormous cost to my parents, that resulted from the daily � nay, hourly � repercussions of having my personal thoughts distributed in such a way). I offer, however, an explanation of sorts. From my "autograph book" at the end of Sixth Grade, several months after the fact:

Dear Lisa - have fun this summer wile (sic) I am at riding camp this summer. Love- Mary Onafrolled.

Well, now, really. Well, really now. Can you blame me?

lisamcc at 4:52 p.m.

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