Dear Dumb Diary #9: That's What Friends Aren't For
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was successful about them, and how they could be
better. The picture of me that T.U.K.W.N.I.F. drew
didn’t get the big laugh it got last time. It looked
like maybe he went back and spent a little more
time on it.
Don’t get me wrong, he still can’t draw, but at
least the portrait looked a lot less like a chimpanzee
and a clown had a baby and then tied a mop to its
head and used it to clean out a stable.
My drawing of T.U.K. was really good. I’m not
being conceited— sometimes if you do something
well, you just have to confess that you did. I’m good
at this. I’m not the best in the world, but I rock. In
the future, I could rock seriously, big -time, and
out loud.
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The portrait Angeline did of Isabella was just
clumsy and awkward, and not at all up to the high
standards I have set for drawing Isabella these
many years.
But most troubling was the drawing Isabella
did of
Angeline.
It was actually kind of good.
When Isabella draws me, she doesn’t really
spend any time on it. It’s never more than a smiley
face with hair.
But Angeline had a whole body and hair and
eyelashes and all that stuff. Isabella really spent
a lot of time on the drawing, like she cared how it
looked, even though Isabella doesn’t really care
how anything looks. Often, her Halloween costumes
consist of a piece of paper taped to her shirt,
stating what she’s supposed to be.
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I really , really wanted to talk to Isabella
about this, and maybe even bawl her out and then
run, because that’s the best and smartest thing to
do after you bawl her out.
But how do you even say something like
that without sounding like a lunatic? “Isabella, I
demand that you be my friend much more than you
are
Angeline’s friend. In doing so, you should always
draw me better than you draw Angeline. Always. And
also, I demand that we both forget the fact that the
Universe made Angeline an Automatic Friend and we
go back to when I was on her case all the time.”
But I can’t say any of that.
All I can say is: Thanks a lot, Isabella. Thanks
for being such a good friend.
Of course I can’t
really
say that, I can only
write it. But I’m writing it totally sarcastically
and rather meanly.
I’m just going to work on my masterpiece more.
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Thursday 19
Dear Dumb Diary,
More people auditioned for friend/bandmate
today at lunch. Wait until you get a load of this.
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Applicant’s name: Emmily (She spells it with
two m’s because she says it reminds her of candy
that way.)
First Impression: Emmily is nice, and easily
the dumbest girl in my grade —maybe in any grade.
But I’ve found that the witless are often quite
charming, and a lot of fun to have around as they
are easy to trick, although they are often spilly.
Known Weirdnesses: I’ve seen her reflection
startle her when she walks past a mirror.
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“Why do you think you’d be right for
this position?” Emmily’s response: “I’m really
smart and good with numbers. Are you going to
finish those chips? Also, I’m smart.”
Interviewer’s comments: Would Emmily
make a good friend? I don’t know. She finished my
chips before I could answer the question, so in that
way she reminds me of Isabella. As predicted in my
first impression, she did spill her milk during the
interview. Four times.
I suppose I should mark this application: MAYBE.
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Applicant’s name: Nadia
First Impression: Nadia is a little vampirey.
Known Weirdnesses: Nadia only dresses in
black and wears black fingernail polish and her
lunch consisted entirely of black food. I have to
give her extra points for this, because I don’t even
know where you could find a black lunch.
“Why do you think you’d be right for
this position?” Nadia’s response: “I want to
introduce a new kind of music to the world that is
based mostly on the sounds you make when you
stub your toe.”
Interviewer’s comments: Would Nadia
make a good friend? I don’t know. She likes to gross
people out, and she scratched me.
I guess I’ll mark this application: PROBABLY.
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Applicant’s name: T.U.K.W.N.I.F.
First Impression: Skip this.
Known Weirdnesses: Skip this.
“Why do you think you’d be right for
this position?” Skip this, too.
Interviewer’s comments: I explained
that the audition wasn’t open to dudes. T.U.K.
apologized, but before he did, I saw his face turn
from just ugly to ugly-sad. He walked away slowly,
and I think I learned something: In a way, ugly -sad
isn’t purely ugly — it’s also kind of funny- looking.
Needless to say, I’m marking this application:
DOUBLE SUPER REJECTED.
And now I’m just lost.
I’ve reviewed the applications over and over
and I can’t figure it out. I marked scratchy vampire
girl as a PROBABLY? And I rejected Anika, who
I’ve known for a long time and really like? I’m
beginning to think I don’t even know what makes
people friends.
And if that’s the case, there’s only one thing
we can be absolutely sure of: Nobody else knows,
either.
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Friday 20
Dear Dumb Diary,
Today at school, Isabella and Angeline wanted
to know who our fourth band member was, so I
had to choose somebody. I didn’t know what to say.
“Elizabeth,” I said finally.
“Fine.” Isabella shrugged.
“She’s spitty, you know.”
“I’ve been spat on,” Isabella said, chuckling
a little. I knew it was true. Her brothers often
opened her door at bedtime to give her a good-
night spritz.
“Or maybe Anika,” I said. “Or Nadia the
vampire.”
“Anika’s fine,” Isabella said. “Or Nadia.
Whatever.”
Angeline just sat there and smiled. I don’t
think either one of them even cared who I picked.
Of course they didn’t care. They didn’t
understand that I was choosing our new BFF. They
still thought this was only about picking a bandmate
for the Talent Show.
“Shannon,” I said. I couldn’t make up my
mind. Choosing a lifelong friend is a lot of pressure.
“It’s Shannon.”
“Okay!” Isabella barked. “It’s Shannon
then, right? Shannon? We’re all in agreement here?
Shannon? Our new band member is Shann
on?”
I nodded.
Angeline nodded.
Later on, I called Emmily to tell her she made
the band.
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Saturday 21
Dear Dumb Diary,
Today was our first rehearsal. My dad let
us use the garage because, as he explained to my
mom, he didn’t want to stand in the way of talent.
Although, I remember that he was also supposed
to clean out the garage this weekend, and now our
talent was giving him an afternoon on the couch.
Isabella just shook her head when Emmily
showed up to rehearsal. Angeline was overjoyed, but
Angeline spends a lot of time overjoyed, so for her, it
was probably just regular old joyed.
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We finally found a song we all knew the lyrics
to, and we practiced lip- synching. The song we
chose has a lot of
s
’s in it, so it’s a good thing I
didn’t go with Elizabeth as our fourth member, or
the whole front row would have been lathered up in
her mouth- suds.
After practicing for a while, we talked about
how we’re going to get instruments to pretend to
play.
Angeline said she was sure she could get us
what we needed. She said the music teacher was
always happy to encourage music. Even fake music.
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Angeline and Emmily talked a lot, so Isabella
and I goofed around more than we had in a while.
It felt like old times. Yes indeed, Emmily is just
what this three- way friendship needed— a Fourth
Friend to divide the friendship into two smaller
friendships.
I can’t wait to see how much we improve
tomorrow.
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Sunday 22
Dear Dumb Diary,
Isabella and Angeline brought their puppies,
Bubblegum Duchess and Prince Fuzzybutt, to visit
their sisterpuppy, Stinkette. They all played
with their dogdad, Stinker, in the backyard while
we created fake musical genius in the garage.
I’m beginning to think that professional
bands must practice fairly often, because after
three FULL hours of pretending to sing today, I’m
not sure we got any better.
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Really, it was only an hour of practice.
We spent the rest of the time on the extremely
important tasks of choosing a band name and
discussing wardrobe.
We narrowed the band names down to these,
and we’ll vote on them later:
The Jamie Kelly Experience
Friends R 4
Awesomeness Unleashed
The Brother Sisters (Okay, this was
all
Emmily’s idea. She said that since brother bands
are really popular, that this would be a good
name.)
Wardrobe wasn’t an issue for Angeline, of
course, since she would look good in a sweater
knitted from living earthworms. But for those of us
with human DNA, wardrobe IS an issue.
We finally decided on jeans, black T-shirts,
and sunglasses, because they’re the only things we
all own one of. For some reason, Emmily has enough
clown outfits to go around, and she offered to let
us borrow them. But clowns are kind of a problem
for me since I happen to know that they are the evil
living dead that are using beepy noses and balloon
animals to fool us.
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Angeline found a couple guitars somewhere, so
I thought we looked pretty authentic as we faked
it, although I’m sure I saw some frustration in
Isabella’s eyes.
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Monday 23
Dear Dumb Diary,
I was supposed to have read a chapter in my
“classic” book by now, but I haven’t gotten around
to it. Most of my free time has been devoted to my
masterpiece for the Art Show and fake singing in
the mirror. If everyone votes to call the band The
Jamie Kelly Experience, a lot of eyes will be fixed on
my performance in particular. I owe it to the fans to
fake it well.
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I saw Hudson talking to Angeline by her locker
today, which normally would have normal-
bothered me, but this time it bothered me a lot
because Hudson currently has a crush-in-progress
on Isabella. Even though Isabella couldn’t care less,
he is still technically her crush-property until she
officially says otherwise. This rule is particularly
important among FRIENDS. Since
Angeline is now
one of those, automatically, it’s inexcusable for her
to violate this rule.
After Hudson walked away, I gave her a
severe talking to, kind of.
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“So,” I said, implying a lot more than that,
“what’s up with Hudson?”
Angeline shrugged. “He wanted to know how
our band was coming along.”
“Was he asking about Isabella or you?” I
asked with fake nonchalance.
“He was asking about all of us. You, me,
Emmily, and Isabella. Mostly Isabella.”
For a moment, I had forgotten that Emmily
existed, which makes me wonder if she’s trying hard
enough to be my friend.
“Right. Emmily,” I covered perfectly. “What
did you tell him?”
Angeline pulled out a brush and slipped it
through her hair. I had never noticed before, but her
hair makes a kind of lovely, floaty harp sound
when she brushes it. She must have forgotten that,
or she surely would have used the technique on
Hudson.
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“I told him I think our performance is going to
be pretty funny.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Did you mean like
HA- HA funny, or MELT- INTO- A - STEAMING -
PILE- OF- EMBARRASSING- SHAME funny?”
Angeline closed her locker and looked at me
with an expression far more serious than is usually
seen on her perky face: “Funny, Jamie. I guess it will
just be funny.”
As she walked away, I realized that it
bothered me somehow to see Angeline less than her
usual perky ball of pure perk. I guess her inability to
be Lovely - on - Demand is really bugging her.
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Tuesday 24
Dear Dumb Diary,
The Art Show is coming up, so I really have to
dig in and finish my project. I don’t have much time
to write tonight, because I’ll be up late practicing
extreme glitterization.
But I did have a profound thought on
friendship that I needed to record: What if I met
a really great person who would be a really great
friend, but their name rhymed with mine? Like
Mamie or Damie. (I’ve never heard of those names,
but people can name their babies anything, like
Football, or Napoleon, or Angeline.) It would be hard
to be friends with our dumb rhyming names (“Here
come Jamie and Ma
mie!”), so how would we ever
decide who would have to change her name? And
after we decided, what would she change her
name to?
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Wednesday 25
Dear Dumb Diary,
I took my art project in to school today. I was
up way later than I was supposed to be last night,
and I created something that could only be called
magnificent.
Actually, it could also be called
spectacular. And fabulous. I guess it could
be called lots of things. But now there’s one thing it
won’t be called: a Prize Winner.
Miss Anderson dropped the bomb on us in
today’s art class: They canceled the Art Show.
There’s only so much money in the school budget
this year, so lots of things are getting canceled.
Miss Anderson said that more kids participate
in the Talent Show, so it only seemed fair to choose
that over the Art Show. If the budget improves,
maybe they’ll do both next year.
It just seems so unfair that things have to be
fair all the time.
Fairness is the most unfair thing in the world.
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Thursday 26
Dear Dumb Diary,
I was so depressed about the Art Show being
canceled that I ate the meat loaf today. I
didn’t care. I ate a whole serving. Isabella watched
me. I was getting ready to eat a second helping, but
Miss Bruntford stopped me.
“You really shouldn’t eat too much — ‘meat,’
let’s call it — in one sitting,” she said.
Full of meat loaf and glumness, I told
Isabella that I’m dropping out of the Talent Show. I
don’t want to drop out. More than anything, I’d like
to go on with Isabella and all, but in this mood, I’d
blow the whole thing for them. I told her that she
should go on with Angeline and do her magic act, and
really fool the idiots in the audience.
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