Read Why Girls Are Weird Online
Authors: Pamela Ribon
Why Girls Are Weird (15 page)
Anna K,
I feel dumb because you don't know me and I've never written to you before, but there's this girl that has a webpage, and she says she met you. She's talking some pretty candid things about you and Ian. I didn't know if you had seen it, so I thought I'd let you know.
If you've already gotten fifty letters like this, or if you're friends with this girl and told her it's okay to write that stuff, then I'm sorry I said anything. But if you want to see her webpage, it's at http://tess.diaryland.com
Hope you're doing well and Happy Thanksgiving.
Just some girl in Atlanta,
Christine
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Today's Entry:
Meeting Anna Kâ(It's What Everyone Wants, Isn't It?!?)
Oh, my God!!! I'm in Anna K's apartment!!! Right now! She's asleep and I'm all alone in her place, pretending that I'm her, writing at her computer in her apartment. Yay!
First of all, I want to say that Anna K is totally cool. I met my idol, and I have to tell all of you about it, sweet readers, because I promised myself I'd use this webpage to talk about everything that happens to me in my life.
She met me at a coffee shop first, which was probably because she didn't know if I was going to be a stalker. I wore the hat that I talked about in last week's entry because I was wondering if she was secretly reading my journal. She didn't ask if it was Sara's hat. Instead she made fun of it.
I didn't bring her down by telling her that my little sister had left it on my bed before she died. I let her make fun of it and I made fun back. It's not her fault she doesn't know about my journal, and I didn't want to start our meeting on a sour note. Besides, I can wear the hat without thinking about Sara. Actually, it makes me feel like she's with me, and that's a good thing.
Anyhoo, we totally hit it off and before I knew it I was at Anna K's apartment! I was at Anna K's place! Her apartment is so cute!!! Ian was out of town, but she showed me pictures. He's a total hottie, y'all. I don't know why Anna K never mentions that in her journal.
Whoa! I totally fell asleep right there at Anna's computer! Ha! She woke me up and tucked me back in. Aw, isn't she sweet? Now I'm writing from back in boring Denton. Boo.
She was so cool about having me stay over and I can't wait for when Anna K's going to come visit me. I'm going to make sure I'm in town if she's ever in Dallas, because Anna K told me about this time that she and Ian were supposed to be house-sitting for a friend and they ended up having sex in their friend's bed. Ew! Poor friend! Unless they want me to be in the bed at the time! That's so hot!!!
And I'm not one to gossip, but I'm pretty sure there are wedding bells in their future, possibly next year!
I got to pet Taylor, and I even used Anna K's shampoo before I left. My hair still smells like her. She uses this great shampoo that smells like Orange Dream Machine Jamba Juice.
She was so much like a sister to me in those few hours we were together that I wanted to run into her room and jump into bed with her and cuddle like Sara used to do with me. I wanted to stroke her hair and have her tell me a story as I fell asleep to the sound of her voice. I stopped myself from knocking on her door, though. That was probably a good thing.
Oh, God. I almost forgot to tell you. CrushBoy and I have been chatting late at night on IM. I'm so in love. I've totally forgotten about BarBoy from last month. Who? That smelly boy? Hee!
Later, lovelies,
Tess
Dale came over immediately to read Tess's webpage for himself.
“I should have known it'd be pink. God, what a girlie-girl.” He made a gagging noise and leaned away from the laptop.
“I'm pissed off. Should I be pissed off?” I asked.
“Yes, you should be pissed off.” He reached over and grabbed a string off my shirt. “Just who does she think she is? More importantly, who does she think
you
are?”
“I don't know.”
“Well, she's nobody, so probably nobody read it, right?”
“Yeah.” I sat down and stared at my shoes. I felt so dumb. I felt dumb for letting someone in. I felt dumb for caring. Why did I want to make friends with her? Why did I trust her with my personal life?
“This is the Internet. These are invisible people, Anna. They can't hurt you. They don't even fucking know you.”
Dale was right, but I didn't know how to stop feeling like I had lost a friend. It all felt so shameful, getting exposed like that, getting used for a good story, having someone gush over me instead of actually becoming my friend.
“Dale, this is all my fault.”
“No, it's not. She took advantage of your trust.”
“This is why I don't have any girlfriends. Bitches, all of them. Lying, bragging, backstabbing bitches.”
“This is why you don't have any girlfriends that are still in college.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I'm calling Becca. We're going out with all of your real friends and you're going to forget all about this. She's a stupid girl that made a fucking fool of herself.” He sat down and stared at the monitor while he listened to the phone ring. “I mean, look at this. Pathetic. Just a little girl who wants some attention. You're lucky you found out about this before she went all
Single White Female
.”
It would have hurt worse if I had been more attached to her.
Dale held his hand over the receiver and leaned toward me. “Congratulations on your upcoming wedding, by the way.” He gave me a wink.
“Shut up.”
Later that night after a few drinks, we wrote Tess a letter together, Dale and I. We told her that she was a stupid little child and she needed serious therapy. Then we deleted it and wrote another letter pretending to be a lawyer informing her of a possible restraining order. Then we deleted that and wrote Tess a letter from Ian, telling her that he was so sorry to have missed her because he wanted to meet her and maybe screw her brains out. Then we made him go on and on about how he's a giant fan of her journal, asking her to keep it a secret, since Anna K knew nothing about it.
That's when Dale hit “Send.”
“What did you just do?” I asked, clutching his shoulder from behind.
“Oh.
Oh
.”
“Oh, fuck!”
“Are you sure I didn't hit the delete button?” Dale kept clicking the mouse, as if that was going to send us back in time.
“No, Dale, you clicked âSend.' She's going to read that, Dale.”
“Yeah. I'm really sorry about this.” He was smiling.
“Shit. Now I have to apologize.”
“No you don't.”
“Yes I do. I can't have her thinking my boyfriend has a thing for her.”
“Sure you can. Just for a week. You're never going to see this girl again, and she fucked with your private life. You have to get her back. Come on, it'll be fun.”
“She may not have thought she did anything wrong writing that entry. She's young.”
“Fine. Then you can use this to find out how two-faced she is. See if she really thinks of you as a friend. Wait to see if she writes back to Ian. See if she even brings it up to you. And she's not
that
young.”
“Shit. I can't believe we created a fake e-mail address for Ian.” I was pacing.
“If she flirts back you can tell her that it was you the entire time, and you were seeing if you could trust her.”
“I don't know, Dale.” I bit a fingernail, a habit I thought I had broken last year.
“Anna. It's already been sent. The ball's in her court. If she really looks up to you, she'll politely thank Ian and let it go. Or she'll ignore it completely. I can see why you've been staying inside all this time. You've got your own Ricki Lake in here, don't you?”
20 NOVEMBER
I'm taking a little holiday. Don't worry about me. Have family fun and be safe.
Oh, and in case some of you found a little webpage that discussed my private life? Don't believe everything you read. Ian and I would only have sex in someone else's house if they paid us.
Aren't those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about terribly upset now? There's hot Anna K sex being discussed somewhere else? Scandalous!
Love until later,
Anna K
I was happy to take some time off to go home for Thanksgiving. I wanted to give myself some time away from technology. I was looking forward to playing a little pinochle with my parents and watching bad movies with my sisters.
Tess hadn't responded to Ian's love letter, and she also hadn't written me to apologize. The Tess Mess, as Dale named it, was a good lesson to get early on. I shouldn't open myself up to a person just because we had an e-mail relationship or because of hero worship. I should have been more careful. I should have had a talk with her, explaining what I did and didn't want to be public information. I shouldn't have treated her like an old girlfriend when the truth was she was the newest person in my life.
I was packing when the phone rang. It was Meredith.
“When's your flight?” she asked.
“Tomorrow morning.”
“You need to change it, Anna.” She took a breath. “Dad's sick.”
“How sick?”
“Sick, like, you need to come here as soon as possible.”
I called the hospital. I got Mom.
“He's already sleeping, Annie. We don't want to wake him. He was in a lot of pain earlier and it took a while for him to fall asleep.”
“Why didn't you call earlier?”
“It all happened very quickly, honey. We've only been here for a few hours. Shannon's on a flight right now. I'm sorry, Annie. I'm sorry.”
“Stop, Ma. Stop apologizing. Are you okay?”
“I'll be better when I've got all my girls home.”
I got my flight changed to eleven that night. I'd get into Hartford around four in the morning. Meredith was going to pick me up and drive straight to the hospital. I called Mom back to tell her the time changes.
“Okay, Annie. I'll see you soon. I'm sorry you had to change all of your stuff. Are you going to be okay with work and everything?”
“Mom, stop worrying about me. It's Thanksgiving. I don't have work. Are you okay?”
“Hurry, baby.”
My flight was in four hours. I was all packed.
I had two hours to wait before Dale picked me up. I was alone in my apartment. The stillness and the silence crashed inside of me like angry waves of terror. I had never felt so far away from home. I needed to see my father. I needed him to need me. And just as strongly, I wished I could just stay in my apartment and wait until it was all over. I felt like a bad daughter, wishing that none of this had happened, wishing I had never gotten that phone call. I wanted to go home to a house filled with warmth and love, turkey cooking in the kitchen, board games set up in the dining room, and a dog barking in the backyard. I wanted everyone to smile as I walked through the door, to be enveloped in hug after hug as everyone welcomed me home.
Those angry waves slammed against my brain again, reminding me that I can't have back what I never had in the first place. That wasn't my family. That wasn't my home. And now that one of us was probably leaving for good, it would never, ever be my family. We would never have the chance again.
LD,
I don't know when I'm going to get a chance to write again. I thought I should let you know what's going on. I'm about to fly out to see my parents for Thanksgiving. The problem is my dad's suddenly very sick, and from the way my sisters and my mother are acting, I might be flying out to tell my father good-bye.
I don't mention my family much, and that's because we're a family that keeps to ourselves. We're very polite around each other. My mom is constantly apologizing for things that aren't her fault. We apologize to each other for being in the same room, for possibly bothering one another by our presence.
I'm scared. I'm scared that my father is about to die. I'm scared because I don't really know how to feel about it. We're solitary people, and the result of that is my father and I haven't really talked too much over the past few years. He keeps mildly updated on my life, and I stay mostly uninvolved in his. We talk through my mother.
Of course I love my father. Of course he loves me. We love each other in that way that fathers and daughters love each other. But here's the thing: He's this sick, and I'm trying to figure out how I'm supposed to feel. Isn't that wrong?
Shouldn't I be screaming and crying or throwing things or clutching the bookcase as I tremble and wail? Shouldn't people be here consoling me? Shouldn't my sisters want me to talk to them? Shouldn't my mom want to talk to me? Shouldn't I be talking to someone about something? Instead I feel cold. I've put on a sweater. I'm wearing two pairs of socks, because I know it will be freezing when I get to Hartford. But it's not cold here in my apartment. I'm just cold. I keep shivering. I feel like it's the first day of school. That's the empty feeling my stomach has. Like I just ate oatmeal against my will. Like I'm about to feel very lonely and left out.
I may not write for a few days while I deal with all of this. I hope he's going to be okay. I hope that this is just another false alarm and when I get there he's watching television, complaining about the glare from his window or something. I hope that they let him go home and he carves the turkey and we all sit down and quietly eat without getting in each other's way. I hope we can act like the family we are, and not have to bond together and create this loving, strong family that we have no idea how to be. It would feel fake and wrong, pretending to have these emotions for each other, wailing against each other. We don't do that. I don't know how we are supposed to learn it all in one day.
I'm waiting for my friend to pick me up to take me to the airport and instead of having my thoughts filled with my father, I'm wondering if you're going to be okay without me for a couple of days. I wonder why I'm thinking about you instead of the family crisis I'm supposed to be consumed with. How did you get so far inside of me?
I don't know what you sound like or look like. I don't know your real name. How ridiculous is that? I don't know you. But I'm telling you things here I've never told anybody. I continue to pour my insides out to you like some kind of free therapy, hoping that when you write back you tell me that it's okay, that you feel the same way, that you understand me and that everything is going to be just fine. You've somehow become my closest friend in all of this. Why? Why don't I tell my real-life friends about these things? Why did I tell my friend not to interrupt his dinner with his boyfriend, but to come and get me later? Why didn't I want to intrude on anyone else's life? And if they're my “real-life friends,” does that make you my imaginary one?
I'm probably dwelling on you so I don't have to deal with the real pain that's sitting next to me on the couch. That's where it is. Just outside my body, right next to me. I can see it. It's a little girl named Anna, and she doesn't know if she's ready to say good-bye to a father she's never really said hello to.
Dale's here. Gotta go.
I'll keep you posted. Hope to have good news soon.
God, why am I ending this like some sort of interoffice e-mail?
I'm sad. There you go, LDobler. I'm scared and sad and I don't know what's going to happen.
Happy Thanksgiving. I'm very thankful for you, too.
-AK
P.S. I'm packing my laptop. Something tells me I might need you around this holiday weekend.
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