March 30, 2005
The World Will See
My street is a culdesac on a hill, and it is a rather big hill, and it takes a few minutes to get home from the bus stop. It's a boring walk except for when there are turkeys surrounding you on all sides and possibly advancing and actually it becomes a real adventure when both roads are flooded out and i have to either wade through them, island-hop, or travel through a forest. And I suppose it's a nice enough walk in the spring and summer because everything is very green, especially the billions of fields, and while there are no turkeys, there are neighborhood cats and Putty.

But when there isn't anything to entertain you, really all you can do is entertain yourself. At the height of my singing career, I was writing songs all over the place, though they didn't all make it to the Primary Colors. One of these songs from the cutting room floor was particularly awful, but I was practicing it to see if I could perfect it. Walking up the hill, there are trees everywhere, and you really can't see driveways unless you're right in front of them. Not that anyone's usually in the driveways anyway. So I started singing in my little girl voice (which was much better than my teenage girl voice; I suppose for my age I was a decent singer, though Steph will probably tell you otherwise), "And the wooooooorld will seeeeee--"

Except my neighbor was right there, trimming her hedges (just kidding, no one has hedges on my street; she was clearing the moss from her stone wall I think. It's actually a really, really cool wall, I'll have to show you sometime). I immediately stopped singing and kept walking, and she stared at me for a while, but I figured she hadn't heard me, because at that age I had no idea how well sound carries in my neighborhood (you can hear my dog barking from Steph's house). I really can't walk by that house anymore without wondering if she did hear me, and if she did, did she tell anyone, and if she did, what did she think of my lyrics and voice.

March 23, 2005
Shaboyban
I learned how to write my full name in cursive at a restaurant from my Grandpa Griffin, on a napkin. I was pretty much a superstar at it. Around age four or five, however, I needed to have special lessons with my dad in order to spell my middle name. These would usually take place when my mom would take my brother to his basketball practices. Once, to avoid my spelling lesson (because I couldn't grasp the concept of a B being pronounced as a V), I went to the basketball game instead. When I got home, Dad asked where I had been, we were supposed to be spelling my middle name. My excuse was, "Oh, I've been here. Did you yell upstairs? I can't believe I didn't hear you. I've been sitting in my closet."

March 21, 2005
Spring is my Very Favorite Season
As a result of far too much strain that I have been suppressing for the past three years despite my persistent claims that I do no work and don't care one lick about school and I could fare just fine without any of the friends I have right now, and due to the in-school breakdown I had today and the hour of crying I did in Dr. Griswold's office, I've decided to start on Wellbutrin again tomorrow. I made a conscious decision to stop in September. Ironically, now that it is my favorite, happiest season, it has become clear that I need medicine more than ever.

March 18, 2005
I Missed 11:11 by a Minute So Now All My Wishes Won't Come True
July 31, 2003; that is, two years ago:

Molly Awesome: remember when we said "our little group has always been, and always will be till the end"?
katie kerrr: i do
Molly Awesome: where's our little group now?
katie kerrr: i remember everything, i need to shut off my memory
katie kerrr: i know
katie kerrr: it sucks so much
katie kerrr: we were like "groups tend to fall apart but i dont think this one will"
Molly Awesome: i know, how naive
katie kerrr: fucking take a look at us now, its like theyve forgotten all about us
katie kerrr: and here we are fucking waiting for them as if theyll come walking back as though nothing has changed.

...

katie kerrr: i feel like ive been hung out to dry.
Molly Awesome: me too
Molly Awesome: i feel used, almost
katie kerrr: me too

...

katie kerrr: this always happens. you let yourself get too close and it just leaves you wanting to cry at 230 in the morning on a random wednesday that no one but you will ever know about.
Molly Awesome: thursday
katie kerrr: whatever
Molly Awesome: and yeah, i feel like i've just been played
katie kerrr: do you think they even realize how much this has fallen apart?

If they didn't then, surely they will now. Surely.

To find out how the story ends, look at what the fuck has happened.

March 18, 2005
You Can Do What You Want to Whenever You Want to
I was happy and satisfied today for a grand total of six minutes. During this time I was lying on a mat, on my back, with my hands crossed over my chest (a position that, given I was holding a flower, you might've mistaken me for the dead) and my eyes closed. A woman put a big green blanket over me, up to my chin, and I stayed like that for seven minutes. I didn't have to say a word to anyone, I didn't have to listen to a word from anyone, things were just the way they should be: murmured, dulcet, and dark. Unfortunately, during the last minute before the gong rang three times and I had to awaken, I was thinking about the way things will be. Things will be the way I hate them to be. And just as people say you dream about the last of your thoughts (which I don't necessarily think is true becaue I was not thinking about decapitation Tuesday night), I woke up only thinking of how there is no future here and what a damn shame.

March 17, 2005
I'm Afeared!
After a day of extreme nationalism (how Irish are you? where's your green?) it was nice to return home, where my mam doesn't care if I'm only seventy-five percent because Grandpa B.'s a Frenchman. In fact, we just pretend that we are authentic, straight from the Emerald Isle. She printed out a list of the most popular Irish baby names for me to take to school. I did and circled my favorites. (By the way--Siobhan is the number one girl name. Take that, ya bastards.) In the booklet of majors that Villanova offers, she marked off "English" and "Irish Studies." She signed us up for a ten-week Irish knitting class. We are going to apply for dual-citizenship. We step danced around the kitchen while singing old pub songs (Oh, dear, what can the matter be? Seven old ladies got locked in the lavat'ry. They were there from Sunday 'til Saturday. Nobody knew they were there. The seventh old lady was Elizabeth Bender; she went there to repair a broken suspender. It snapped up and ruined her feminine gender, and nobody knew she was there.) We quoted from our favorite movie (The Little Kidnappers). We talked about corned beef and cabbage and how the words are disgusting to me. We talked about Frank McCourt and his lovely voice. We talked about the studies abroad I am absolutely going to take. We want to move there and leave everything behind. Or, I do. Darling.

March 15, 2005
Or Any Situation Where I'm Better Off Than Dead
Things that have the potential to cheer me up in the coming months though the idea of them right now doesn't quite do it:

• I saw a robin yesterday, and it wasn't my mom.
• When I wake up, it is light out.
• It remains light out until six in the evening.
• Six days until spring.
• Kris Roe.
• When school ends, I only have one more go and then it is the end.

March 14, 2005
The Narration that Just Occurred in My Head #4
I guess you could sum us up in one word: karate kick.

March 14, 2005
From Weekend to Weekend
"I know you're not paying attention to any of this at all, but you got a letter from a very good college today."

Not paying any attention! Who took a practice SAT test for three hours yesterday just for the fuck of it?

March 13, 2005
The Narration that Just Occurred in My Head #3
To whoever came up with the idea of having a light inside a refrigerator : I like your style.

March 12, 2005
Holiday from Real
Oh, and my hair is growing long.

Fuck yeah we could live like this.

March 12, 2005
Hero Complex
A few hours ago I was staring at the screen saver feeling bad about who I am when I saw a flash of orange and red coming from across the street. I watched the reflection for a while, thinking of it as Windows fireworks, before it hit me what was actually going on. There was a fire in the house across the street and I was not planning on doing anything but watching and hoping the triplets were not burning to death. To get a better look, I stopped watching the reflection and looked out the window and saw that there was no fire, but a plow truck.

I hate winter.

I am cowardly.

March 8, 2005
I Can Deal with Some Psychic Pain if It'll Slow Down my Higher Brain
Dear Ms Humberd,

It is my understanding that my mother called you today to clarify the "no pants" rule for Thursday evening's National Honor Society induction ceremony. (Before I begin, let us reflect on the hilarity of my wording here: the no pants rule. Wonderful. Please keep in mind that I am a genius.)

Furthermore, it is my understanding that you got into an argument with my mother today about the no pants rule.

The last time I wore a dress was fourth grade, to Christmas. For a little perspective, I will have you know that this was a time in my life when I still requested stuffed animals for adequate Christmas presents, when I was still only getting used to wearing glasses, when my cousin Abby was not yet one year old, when my hair was the longest it has ever been, before I cut it all off in sixth grade. The last time I wore I dress was EIGHT YEARS AGO. (One could argue that I wore one in fifth grade, but it was not me. I was a pilgrim, and I was in a play. I also wore a bonnet, okay.) I did not wear a dress to any wedding that I attended, even though I played the pivotal role of Second Reader. I did not wear a dress to confirmation. I did not wear a dress to my grandfather's funeral, or to my uncle's funeral.

I asked you, "Pants are not allowed at all?" You said no, and I said, "Well, that's ridiculous." You proceeded to tell me that this is how it's always been, this is how it always will be, and that is just tough luck.

I accepted it, very well, I won't attend your stupid ceremony. It's not as though anyone's cheering for me. My favorite teacher can't attend because she hasn't been in school for the past five weeks and my dad isn't going because he has a meeting.

Today, my mother called you to ask if I would be refused admittance into National Honor Society if I did not attend the ceremony for personal reasons. (Let it be known that my mother doesn't care if I never wear a dress again in my life.) She told you that I do not wish to wear a skirt or dress. You told her what you told me: the no pants rule has always been that way, it will always be that way, and that is just tough luck.

However, you then told her some things you did not tell me. For instance, when she told you that I haven't worn a skirt for years, it is something I just don't do, it's not something I am comfortable doing, you told her, "Sounds to me like she is being defiant."

I yelled WHAT in the restaurant we were in. My mother then informed me that she responded, "Well, no, she is not being defiant, she is acting against something she's not comfortable doing." To which you said, "You know, some people are not comfortable doing a lot of things, but we have to. It's part of life. If she wants to get by in life, she will have to conform." A series of exclamation points and question marks exploded in my head, rather like this:

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

You told my mother that I would never make a good impression at a job interview if I did not dress properly, and that if I were to avoid the induction ceremony because of the issue of a skirt, it would truly show where my loyalties lie.

Indeed, ma'am. Should I stick by the values I have lived with for my entire cognizant life, or should I abandon them and subject myself to ridicule so that I can join your cult?

The National Honor Society application involved obtaining two recommendations (both of which told of how I was a person with a lot of character and opinions that were not easily swayed), a list of activities (three of which included outlets through which one expresses him or herself), an essay on leadership (which described how I am a role model), and an incredible amount of stress on setting an example, taking control, and setting oneself aside from the crowd. For a society that places such stress on being extraordinary, I would be lying if I said I wasn't appalled at being told that I must conform to get somewhere in life.

There is nothing I would like to do more than to blow off your hypocritical ceremony and be refused for admittance into the association. Unfortunately for me (quite forunate for you), I have a father who would kick my ass if he found out that I did not join because of the issue of dress. After all, this is the man who told me it was "about damn time" when he read the dress code. (Incidentally, when he asked what was so wrong with skirts, I told him to try wearing one and feel comfortable about the possible exposure of privates.)

This evening, my mother and I bought a skirt for $39.50, which is an absurd amount for any article of clothing. I rather enjoyed my streak of strictly pants for these past eight years, and I am going to cry Thursday night when the assholes you've accepted into your society make a big deal out of it. Thank you for breaking me, you sons of bitches. Most of these new motherfucks you're inducting don't know how to be defiant, particularly when they most need it. They don't know how to fight the wrong sort of conformity. You better be damn appreciative that I am joining, because you need me a thousand times more than I need you.

Tell the rest of the staff I said fuck it. Except Sra. Harrison and Mr. King. They would have dealt with me with far more maturity and reason than you did.

Yours,

Molly S. Griffin

PS. Reason Number Five Thousand Sixty Billion to Not Wear a Skirt: I think I just got my period.

March 6, 2005
I Know the Sum and Substance of my Evil
Some days I make it my lifetime aspiration to make something, anything people will appreciate. Other days I think I could be content with never leaving a mark.

Some days I drive home at dusk singing about the slow fade of love. Other days if I turn the car on and the radio is playing I throw a tantrum by chewing on the side of my tongue, causing my orthodontist to tell me, "Listen: tongues do not taste good," causing my brain make the one two step towards immaturity.

Some days I wish I could meet strangers online and make friends because I feel this option is limited in real life. Other days I never want to meet another human being again.

Some days I like taking polls with interesting questions like, "Are you afraid to ask someone out?" and "Do you know what will be the fate of our sun?" Other days I convince myself that no one is profound except me.

Some days I think I'm pretty. Other days I use my eyes.

Some days I agree with the people who say I am creative. Other days I remember that I am just a poor copy of the people they don't know.

March 1, 2005
Some Pretty Bomb Conversations I Had Today
Rob4624: happy birthday, slytherin
Molly Awesome: i think you have the wrong person
Rob4624: oh no, i have the right one
Rob4624: you just dont know it yet
Molly Awesome: listen, even harry potter was considered for slytherin.
Molly Awesome: the point is, i requested gryffindor, because it is our choices, young draco, that determine who we are

katie kerrr: hows the 17th year so far
Molly Awesome: if it continues to come with cheesecake, i think it will be a good one
katie kerrr: awesome
Molly Awesome: then again, we both know that the cheesecake ends here, so probably a bad one. but whatever.
katie kerrr: yeah, and my 17th year has been astronomically (? diction?) worse than my 16th, but WHATEVER. the way i see it, a shitty adolescence is just a precursor for one incredibly badass future.
katie kerrr: karmic justiiiice.

nemetona3113: molly can we have babies?
Molly Awesome: with our husbands, yes
nematona3113: but what about...
nemetona3113: the two of us...building castles in the sand
Molly Awesome: ...is that a euphemism for fucking without protection so as to get pregnant?

Molly Awesome: you know, in harry potter, OWLs stand for Ordinary Wizarding Levels. they also have NEWTs, which is Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests.
Auto response from Griffty Cent: psych OWLs
Griffty Cent: here they stand for Online Web-based Learning
Griffty Cent returned at 7:02:52 PM.
Molly Awesome: well, you're still almost a wizard\
Griffty Cent: yea im getting there

(later, in response to the above revelation)

katie kerrr: es increible
katie kerrr: it gives me hope.

its a tori: god must've been like hey, it's molly s. griffin's birthday. best give her a day off from school.
Molly Awesome: and then from the skies rained a lovely, solid rain
its a tori: and there was rejoicing in the streets and the masses returned to their homes for lovely warm cups of chocolat chaud
Molly Awesome: then the masses were like, ewwww chauddd what is THAT, and they laughed
its a tori: and then madame fran�ais moved her glasses to the tip of her nose, looked them straight in the eyes and said, chaud means hot in french. you idiots.
Molly Awesome: and the idiots looked at each other, each thinking the same thought, and together as a chorus of tomfoolery they chimed, "well that is the most disgusting word we've ever heard." the rhyme did not go unnoticed by a single witness, and so the crowds cheered.
its a tori: and so, spirit trampled upon and faith in humanity crushed, madame fran�ais took the first flight to aix en provence, care of air france, and had herself some absinthe and a croissant.
Molly Awesome: el fin
its a tori: and scene
Molly Awesome: beautiful
its a tori: i say, let's take it to braff and he'll help write us a script and direct us a film.

March 1, 2005
This Day in History

1692 The Salem Witch Hunt begins, thanks to everyone's favorite harlot, Abigail Williams.

1954 Actor/Director Ron Howard is born. He will go on to play my long-standing crush, Richie Cunningham.

1932 Twenty-month-old Charles Lindbergh III is kidnapped from his mansion and America is captivated by the case.

1961 President John F. Kennedy established the Peace Corps.

1980 Harry Potter character Ronald B. Weasley is born. He will go on to play a pivotal role in the safety of the wizarding world.

1988 Actor/Director Molly Griffin is born. She will go on to play my long-standing crush, Molly Awesome.

1998 This guy admits to being gay probably.

2003 Greta is received at the Griffin household. She is currently enjoying her stay very much and would prefer to never leave.

2005 Billionaire Molly Griffin discovers that Harry Houdini, the famed magician who she was told shared her birthday in fourth grade by her teacher, was in fact born twenty-three days later, one-hundred-fourteen years earlier. Griffin is heartbroken.

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