TRY

6-28

Try. The first word ever uttered to me. "Try, honey, you're a beautiful baby. I love you, Try." Yep, my name is Try. There's the ultimate curse, a bad name. You can't get rid of it. You can't go to a doctor and get some cream that'll "take it right off". You're just going to have to cope. Your parents will say all sorts of sweet things: "Try is a beautiful name, honey. It provides a life lesson every time someone thinks of you!". But deep inside, even your parents have to wonder what they were thinking giving you such a stupid name. I wonder all the time. Were they told "It's a girl!" and they thought "I wanted a boy, so let's think up a way to torture our girl her whole life through!"? One has to wonder. My parents aren't really the sort to do something that stupid. But they did, it's right here on my birth certificate. It's upstairs, if you need the proof, journal. I'll be glad to get it for you, since it's hard to believe something like this.

Anyway, that'll serve as an introduction to me, now for what I'm doing. Or what I think I'm doing. It's a class assignment. Everyone keep a Journal all summer. Well, I'm starting late. I guess I just never wanted to do it, I've never been one for diaries. Now everyone called it a journal, of course, but come on… it's a diary through and through. It's just lacking the pink paper and the lock. C'mon, Mr. Hently, admit it. It's a diary. And you aren't even grading it… I guess my eighth grade teacher will. Wow, eighth grade, my last year in middle school. I'm so excited(?). Is this what we're supposed to talk about, Mr. H? I've cleverly titled my journal, huh? Bet I'll get extra credit, there. Just so you know, that was sarcasm. Guess you can't really read sarcasm beyond a certain point. But, my name sure is a clever title. Not a hint of sarcasm there, I'm sure you can tell.

Do we write about our day? Do we write dreams and fantasies we don't want anyone to ever see? Do we write facts and reports? Oh, why couldn't Mr. H have explained this better? Well, I guess I can always claim lack of instruction if I do it wrong. I wonder how long it has to be… I'm always big on specifics. How can I write a report without exact subject, length, format, and purpose? I can't! How can I finish an assignment without print or cursive, line skipping or no, and what is on what sheet? I can't! How can anyone? And who does Mr. H think he is to say it's because I'm afraid to use my imagination?! I imagine plenty, but once it's on paper, I'm sure it's junk. And it is. I know it. But if I have every detail planned out ahead of time, I can't go wrong. Is that too much to ask?

I guess I'll just…. For lack of a better word (Someone should make one up.. I HATE using this word…) try. Ech, I just want it planned, in little paragraphs, with the exact amount of notebook paper we'll need. That would make me very happy. Eighth grade teacher, whoever you are, are you talking off points for my lack of interesting subjects? Are you mad because of my supposed "lack of imagination"…? Are you reading this and thinking of how much you're going to hate having me as a student? If you are, I don't blame you. I've heard eighth grade is supposed to be an imaginative year, and here (As much as I deny it) a teacher has exclaimed my lack of imagination. But what can I do about a stupid teacher?

Is this long enough for a day's entry? Should I call Leah and ask her how far she is, and what she writes about? Leah, my best friend. I love her name. "Leah". It's both beautiful and normal. I want that in a name. Instead I get neither. Instead I get the teasing, and the names, and being asked if I still ride a tricycle, and everything else someone named Try would be asked. Leah, can I trust you with the contents of this journal in the first place? Will you agree with Mr. H? I know he's your favorite teacher. Will you be scared by my envy and stop talking to me? Am I overreacting? Yes, I am. Leah isn't critical of people. After all, she wasn't afraid to be friends with the freak named Try. I admire that. I really don't know what I would do if I met a "Mercy", an "Imagine", or even a "Hortence". But Leah has the courage I often lack. She's my role model as much as my friend.

Journal, I think I've written enough for today. Do you care to agree? That question, of course, is directed to you, eighth grade teacher, not the paper I'm writing on. But by the time you read this, it will be too late for suggestions. It'll be too late for anything but a grade.

Signing off, and hoping she's done a good job,

Try L.

6-29

Do you think I'll ever get used to writing in this thing? I feel awkward… talking to an invisible person. And I feel worse knowing that I have to keep my guard up, because I'll have to turn this in. I can't make it feel like a diary, or at least not a personal one. It might just get hard… what am I saying? I don't keep diaries. I should call Leah.. that'll make me feel better. Leah has a reassuring warmth about her. She makes you think everything is just fine. I absolutely adore that in a friend.

So, today I've been reading a book, which happens to be about a girl who keeps a journal for school. I'll admit I looked in it for ideas… but does it matter? She writes about her activities, and has short entries, mostly. Can I do that too, eighth grade teacher? Is that allowed? Will I ever stop talking to the teacher who can't answer my questions? Will I ever stop writing stupid questions and just…talk.

Hey, there's an idea. Journal-as-friend. I just talk here as if Leah called me up and asked me "What's up?". Easier said than done, but doing it is my only hope.