I am Jenna is Jenna Hamilton's blog which she updates every episode. Although there is no "official" Invisible Girl Daily, there are a few blogs dedicated to the entries of Jenna's blog.
Pilot[]
aarrggg!!.[]
Rubbed Raw and Reeling[]
It was the last day of summer camp. Time to celebrate. It was a lame afternoon dance, but magic was in the air. The dorks were getting crunk and the rest of us were getting drunk. And for the first time since I got my braces off, I didn't feel invisible. {C}There it was. The signal. I was hoping he'd do something more inspired like sniff his armpits but Matty had a habit of doing that. A lot. Attention to personal hygiene was just one of Matty's many stellar attributes. He was perfection. Unlike me. I was a hot mess of nerves cause Matty McKibben wanted me, a nobody, to meet him in the utility closet.
It wasn't the inciting incident of some sappy teen special about how I got knocked up on the last day of summer camp. I knew better than to bareback. Our passionate bumping of uglies was a sign. This year would be my year. For once I wouldn't be overlooked. Not with Matty at my...back door. Oh yeah, he let it slip. Not fun.
Change was in the air. I could smell it. There was change and pine-scented cleanser. My lady business was on fire, but somehow admitting my virgin status seemed like a buzzkill. I didn't wanna ruin the moment.
With my d-card safely tucked away in his back pocket, I was sure this was the beginning of something. I couldn't help myself. Matty had cracked my hard candy shell and I was oozing with sticky sweet love. So, I asked him if he wanted to go to sophomore orientation together. To which he responded "You're the "sh*t." So he wasn't a poet. He was still Matty McKibben... and then he hit me with... "but nobody can know that I like you." So....I was still Jenna Hamilton.
When I got home I was looking for a little TLC. My mother always knew when something was wrong...and promptly avoided the conversation. Instead of reading my the face-mail that was obvi in need of being addressed and comforting me- she handed my laundry and a letter. Turned out it was a letter that hurt even more than Matty's blow-off.
"Jenna, as you are now, you could disappear and no one would notice. Below is a list of suggestions you should take into serious consideration. A Friend. Number one: stop being such a pussy."
Whoever wrote the letter didn't pull any punches. It was the truth and the truth hurt.
Sometimes being a teenager makes you want to die.
[[Link title''Italic text]]=== That Girl === When I was initially charting my course to visibility, I really should have defined the kind of visibility I wanted. For two weeks I tried to explain that my accident was just that. An accident. The more I denied it, the more everyone assumed I was in denial. It was a vicious circle. {C}The one person who was noticeably absent from gossiping about my life was Matty McKibben. But I finally had contact with him. It was the first time we had seen each other since my deflowering...and I'd almost forgotten how jacked I looked. He asked if I was okay. It was a complicated question. Even if he hadn't been pulled away by his posse, there probably wasn't time for me to explain everything I was feeling.
But luckily for me, apparently I was gonna have a lot of time to talk about my feelings with my new guidance counselor. Color me excited. We apparently are set to have weekly meetings. And she's "special." She spit my breath mints back in their container and then tried on my lipgloss. Valerie needs her own counselor. She asked me if I had any questions for her. I had about a thousand, but not one of them seemed appropriate. I could only hope that someone would let me off for good behavior really soon so I wouldn't have to spend the entire year dealing with her special brand of insanity.
And then there was Sadie, who I guess was disappointed that I wasn't dead. I never appreciated Sadie's bitchiness, but I understood it. She was hungry.
And she was gonna be in my line of sight for all of lunch because she was in the pep rally. With Matty. All over Matty. But, I was fine. Okay, that's was a lie. I wasn't. Despite all my external wounds, my heart was probably gonna take the longest to heal. And I was tired of the pain. So, rather than wait it out, I had the brilliant idea to jumpstart the healing process. I volunteered for the pep rally. I mean, I totally knew what I was doing. Confession: I had no idea what I was doing. But I couldn't look back. At all. But i can always talk to my best friend. Mia♥
Yet somehow...having people pay even more attention to me was the best stupid idea I ever had. I got in a guy's pants and came out a winner. And more importantly, people saw me as someone other than a total freak.
Except for Sadie, of course. I tried to be nice to her after she lost. She responded in the typical Sadie way: by being an ass. It's true when they say no good deed goes unpunished. But I wasn't gonna let get to me. Things were looking up. Besides my arm.
Being "That Girl" was my new identity. But I won't let it define me. I will define it.
Knocker Nightmare[]
New Beginnings[]
It was the dawn of a new beginning. My sideshow status as the suicide freak was about to end and my creeper gear was on the verge of retirement. Thank God. Cause the high five fake out was getting old. Really old. {C}For six weeks, I'd fantasized about two things. My first fantasy involved some intimate touching...of the elbow. And my second was centered on any and all parts of Matty McKibben. It wasn't like I was obsessing. Or that I'd counted the seven times I'd caught Matty looking at me since school started. Eight if you counted the time I wiped out on the quesadilla. And I did. It counted.
Okay, maybe I was obsessing. A little. But it was keeping me from fixating on something I was desperately trying to forget. The evil anonymous carefrontation. It could bite me and always did. "Pull your head out of your ass and stand out." Standing out was not a problem. Blending in was the new name of the game, and I was ready to play. Or I would be soon. As soon as I could jailbreak my arm from its maximum security plaster...
Which, of course, didn't quite work out as I'd envisioned. But maybe my mom and T were right—maybe a slimming black sling was enough of an improvement for now. It caught Matty's attention. Look nine. If I was counting. Okay, I was counting. Sue me. But he was look-looking. Stalker looking. In a good way. And look nine led right into look ten. It was a record. Two glances in less than fifteen minutes. Matty was definitely thinking about me. Hope for my fantasy to become my reality had been reignited. I was high on hope and...
Sadie's sweetness. Why was she out to get me? New Jenna needed to employ some new principles. There are times for rising above the situation...and times when you have to sink to the bare-ass level of your enemy. So I did. And as she became the butt of everyone's joke for once, there was nothing to say except, "You're welcome."
Over-Exposed and Under-Appreciated[]
Sad fact: my mom had more cyber friends than I did. By the time I got home, she'd already read all about my negative exposure. Never to be outdone, she felt the need to scar me even more than my knocker nightmare already had by first showing me a picture of what I'd look like with a boob job...and then telling me that she'd gotten a boob job. Apparently, her new chest was purchased in lieu of an education. And her new ta-tas were her reward for raising me instead of going to college. Ho-ly tit. My mother was never subtle about acknowledging that I was more of a burden than a blessing.
But, misguided as my mom's tactics were, at least in her own way she was trying to help. Which was more than I could say for Matty McKibben. My reality, without having my fantasy to look forward to, was becoming too hard to bear. But I knew just what to do. I'd take control of the situation.
In my fantasy scenario, I was gonna be the bad ass, the rebel. I'd be the legendary sophomore rock star that no one would ever forget. But in reality...I had thirty more people taking pictures of my tits.
Clearly, it was time to come to terms with the fact that what I wanted to happen and what was actually going to happen weren't the same. From an early age, all girls are conditioned to expect a romantic fantasy. Maybe I wasn't gonna be one of those girls who gets the fantasy in high school. Maybe I'd have to wait.
The Way We Weren't[]
To We Or Not To We[]
For 2.8 weeks, Matty couldn't keep his hands off me. He was on a Jenna bender. And aside from the fact that my Vagimatic was suffering some serious road burn, I was high on life. I was living those magical high school moments I'd only seen in movies. And like most "leading ladies," I wanted more. Not more boning. I wasn't starting a lifelong battle with sex addiction. I just wanted more...intimacy. Like the kind I had with Brian Palermo when we played doctor as kids. We didn't do anything except flash our nips—which incidentally looked exactly the same—but I knew everything about Brian. Favorite color: brown. Sport: hockey. Food: toilet paper. Brian was weird. Seven years later, I was playing for real with a guy I knew nothing about.
Was it completely Old Testament of me to want to know stuff about the guy who had a platinum membership card for getting in my pants? I mean, I didn't need to know his philosophical outlook on life or what he thought about Civil War, I just wanted to know...something.
Turns out we had a lot in common. Sort of. So after bonding over sex and our shared love of reptiles trained in martial arts specializing in sabotage, I couldn't help but wonder if our sex made Matty and I a we? And were we going about things backwards? First the sex, then the relationship? Or were we just more interesting?
I wanted to know if we had any plans for the weekend, but for fear of seeming desperate, I asked him if he had plans. On second thought, I should've gone with the "we"—you know, the power of suggestion. But, Matty surprised me by totally taking the first step toward us being a we and telling me I should go to Lissa's party. It was all I needed to hear before he left. That and maybe a kiss to seal the deal...
Okay, so I guess we weren't the type who kissed goodbye.
...Or maybe we were.
Status Unknown[]
Tamara thought Matty and I were a "we." And I thought that was good enough for me. But I was having some serious party jitters. My outfit said yes, but my gut said, stay the hell home. Maybe it was a sign that Matty needed room to miss me. But, for better or worse, Tamara could usually convince me of anything. And she was intent on convincing me that Matty and I had a thing. I didn't know what kind of thing, but I was hoping the party would clear that up. That still didn't mean I had ever learned the etiquette of being a "we." Did I let him know I was on my way to the party? Text him when I got there? Have him meet me out front? These were the kinds of lessons a mom should teach you, but all my mom did was ask if Matty and I were together. Apparently, this was a burning question on everyone's mind. If only I could answer it.
I was hoping it would be clear as soon as I got to the party, but Sadie bitch-rained on that parade when she asked who invited me. I thought Matty did, but he hadn't texted me, he didn't walk me in. Maybe his "you should come" comment was made out of post-orgasmic obligation. Then, in a very public display of validation, Matty admitted he did invite me! That settled it. Matty and I were a ‘we.'
So there we were. Out in public. For the whole...small group of people to see. I wondered how he'd introduce me, as his girlfriend, his date, his lu-vah? He opted for not introducing me at all. I would've settled for Jenna.
The night went on pretty much along that awkward track. If our body language was analyzed by the experts at US Weekly, they would have said "we" were on the outs.
I finally got him alone, or as alone as you can be at a kick-back. Sometimes a keg is all you need for a little privacy. So there "we" were, not speaking. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything, even though I was stuck on mute. In the moment all I could think about was the fact that twenty-four hours ago, Matty was taking my temperature with his all-beef thermometer, and now he couldn't even ask me how much foam I wanted.
Maybe he was just shy. I mean, I'd never been out with him before. For all I know, he had social anxiety. Then, he stripped down and jumped in the hot tub. So, my shy theory was a tad off.
Once again, I was on the outside of the circle looking in...at another girl all over Matty. But Tamara was right. Matty wasn't responsive, even though sluts-her-face was practically dry-humping him. I did want to go in. And what did I have to lose? I had some Victoria Secrets of my own.
But apparently so did she. Although kissing Matty in public wasn't really keeping it a secret at all.
I didn't know if he was going out of his way to answer my question, but he couldn't have made it any clearer. Matty and I weren't a "we" at all. There was only me. And me...was devastated.
At least I had a friend in Jake. And when he was telling me about his own intimacy issues with Lissa, I knew exactly what he meant. Not that I wanted to take it up the Kardashian, but maybe Matty and I shouldn't have done anything until we knew each other better. I had barely spent any time with Jake and I already knew extremely intimate stuff about him...weird stuff I didn't really want to know. But unlike Matty, he was willing to share, and for the moment, some platonic intimacy would have to do.
The Scarlet Eye[]
The Stink of the Pink[]
Considering I didn't even have pink eye, the pink eye outbreak at school was causing me an unreasonable amount of discomfort. I had asked the universe for a sign that I should talk to Matty, and so far I had six. Make that seven. The DTR had to happen ASAP. And OMG I needed to stop using initials. {C}Because even though she was being judgmental about it all, Ming was right. I wasn't cool hooking up with a guy who was kissing other girls. I mean, for all I knew, he was doing more than just kissing other girls. I need to define our relationship for once and for all.
But when I finally got a chance to talk to him, I couldn't see Matty's right eye. And that made me worry. He asked he if was gonna see me at the bonfire. The bigger question: was he gonna be able to see me?! I was hardcore spiraling and the situation was rapidly spinning out of my control. Matty was apologizing for kissing a skank. Or maybe I was the skank? I couldn't really make sense of anything he was saying, but when I tried to go in for a real convo, he took off. Which...might have been for the best. Did I really want to bring up the pink eye? If he was apologizing for kissing another girl, then he probably wasn't making a habit of doing that. And if that was the case, I didn't want to raise a scarlet flag that I was a spiral-prone kind of girl.
I made a new deal—if Matty didn't have the pink, it would clear the stink. If he did, I'd have to have "the talk." And that was gonna be...awkward. But the bonfire would be the place to do it. Because aside from my parent's "Teen Mom" sitch, the bonfire was a lucky omen in my family. It was where I was meant to cement my relationship with Matty and...the place to double bag it.
Truth and Consequences[]
The bonfire. Matty was present and accounted for. It was the moment to advance. Or, as Ming would have it, the moment to simmer. There was no way I could talk to Matty covered in sticky rice. Was the universe throwing obstacles in my way to keep me from making a mistake? Or was I just screwed? Ming was giving me a Viagra-hard time about the Matty status...because she was reeling about our own status as friends. Apparently, my convo with Matty wasn't the only talk that I needed to have. I needed to DTR with Ming.
But, at the moment, the dumpster hump was my primary objective. And good news! Matty didn't have the pink. But that wasn't gonna stop me from DTR-ing and he was giving me the sign! That he was nervous. Which meant he was vulnerable. Which meant the iron was hot and it was time to strike. So I broke my promise. I hooked up before we DTR'd. Sue me. Some promises were made to be broken...
...And some promises were never made. Matty didn't want to be in a relationship with me. As we walked through the remnants of the parking lot, it looked exactly how I felt – post-apocalyptic. It felt like everything had changed. But nothing had changed. Except that I finally knew the score. He asked if I was cool just being casual. I wasn't cool with it. But I told him I was. I couldn't help myself. I couldn't be honest...
Speaking of honesty, for weeks, I assumed the letter was an evil indictment of the person who wrote it. But then it hit me—what if the author was just being honest? I couldn't hate them for that. Just like I couldn't hate Matty. He had been honest. Something I wasn't brave enough to do. But Ming was. And even though I didn't have a relationship with Matty, I did have a relationship with Ming...and it was time for her to know that I cherished it.
Jenna Lives[]
Unsavory and Unstable[]
In high school, perception's everything...and being dropped off by a parent was like owning a rolling backpack or kissing a grandparent on the mouth. Unsavory. In an environment where everyone was playing the role of judge and jury, the only way to survive was to assert some kind of independence. But not my mother's kind. My mother's perception of being bold was free boobin'. I'd had enough. {C}But I couldn't get enough of the person I had developed a questionable dependence on: Matty. I wanted an excuse to walk in together, but what I really needed was an excuse to talk. Matty said he wasn't ready to be in a relationship with anyone, but...as I saw another girl get out of his truck with him, I realized maybe he just didn't want to be in a relationship with me.
And why would he? I was the suicide girl. And to make matters worse, I was a traveling freakshow with an obsessive fan. You don't get much more unsavory than that.
So Matty had another girl and I had a stalker. If I was being honest with myself, my day was off to an unfortunately typical Jenna Hamilton start. But shouldn't the universe at some point find a new ass to wedgie?
Jenna Plus and Minus[]
For someone I had never seen before in my life, I suddenly couldn't stop watching Jenna Plus. Kyle was stalking me, and I was stalking her. Don't worry, the irony wasn't lost on me. But I needed to know if Matty was just hanging out with her or if they were together. Because my brain needed to figure out which level of jealousy was appropriate for the situation. {C}But finding her in Valerie's version of juvie was unexpected. Guess Jenna Plus was a regular in detention and a leader among the rebel herd. Maybe Matty thought being bad was good?
From the bird tattoo on her ankle to the simple Carmex she wore instead of lipgloss, everything about Jenna Plus was cool. Bitch. I wondered if Matty liked smokers. And if so, could I fake a pro? I was getting ahead of myself. As Jenna Plus told me about her guy meltdown that I'd half-eavesdropped on, I had the sinking feeling in my gut that she was talking about Matty. Did that mean I was Matty's rebound? Jenna Plus and I might have been from different planets, but our Matty heartbreak was the same. Unless, by some tiny, miniscule, pinhole chance, she wasn't talking about Matty...
But of course, she was. Her phone rang and the caller ID said "McKibben." There it was. The answer I was chasing. I couldn't live in the safety of denial anymore. She was with Matty. He was with her. And I was with cancer. As much as I wanted to hate on Jenna Plus, I couldn't. The bitch was decent. Maybe even sweet. And it really made me want to kill myself.
It's Complicated.[]
Everything that once was simple was now complicated. Matty's best friend had kissed me. And Matty didn't want me to be his girlfriend. Cause he already had one. And no matter how much I wanted her to disappear, she wouldn't. She was real and she had a name. Olivia. As expected, it was prettier than mine. {C}Making matters worse, turns out Kyle did work in the office and was in a tribute band. Kyle flip-out was completely unnecessary. If there were an Olympic sport of giving people something to talk about, I would definitely medal. Turns out, I had been smoking the emotional crack pipe and I needed to take a drastic 12 steps back to recovery. I already acknowledged I had a problem. So I decided to skip the middle steps and go straight to number nine—making amends.
After clearing up the Kyle situation, my life was still complicated. I liked Matty. Matty liked Olivia. Jake liked me. Jake was dating Lissa. Lissa was best friends with Sadie, who wanted me dead. Even if I had tried to make a coherent chart of this situation, I still wouldn't have been able to wrap my head around it. And it felt like I was constantly treading on a fault line that was about to create a social earthquake. I didn't know how the hell I had become the epicenter, but the potential disasters that could result from it were....best not thought about.
Queen Bee-atche[]
Uncharitable Charity[]
It was Saturday, but instead of kicking back, my mother was forcing me to attend a party thrown by the elite mother/daughter charity league known as the "Knick-Knackers." Unfortunately, three spots were open. And I was sick at the thought of actually landing one. Cause the Knick-Knackers weren't obsessed with helping the homeless. They were obsessed with... Plastic. Plastic was the power currency of Palos Verdes. In the skin and in the wallet. To be a certified PV mom meant you had to rock a bodacious body and a black AmEx. Neither of which were earned by a day job. To be a PV mom, working meant working-out or working a room. Or being a Knick-Knacker.
And my mom was going to stay up in my grill until she became one.
So there I was powerless to my mother's subtle persuasion—to stop embarrassing her.
I was also strangely powerless to the feeling that the house belonged to someone emotionally disturbed. Or worse...evil incarnate. Mo to the fo. I was in Sadie Saxton's house. And it made sense... the devil would absolutely hide himself behind an altruistic organization. Needless to say - after Sadie cited number seven on the letter- "you have to be cruel to be kind"- I knew she was the author. So there I was in my enemy's house enduring a bogus benefit. My hellacious day was complete...or was it? Cause Matty was there- working the party- and ignoring me. Up until then we had a very textual relationship. But a lot of the time, when we were out in public, I couldn't figure out our subtext. He was...awkward. And that made me awkward.
Sometimes I couldn't help but wonder if his weirdness in public was a power play. I knew that deep down, Matty and I had some kind of connection. But maybe he was putting on his incompetence at social situations so that he could control what we were. Matty didn't want to be in a relationship. If we didn't appear to be in one, then we weren't in one.
But, on the other hand, it was really hard to believe that Matty was that calculating. And I didn't want to believe it.
I wanted to hang out with him. Alone. And just when I thought I might get the chance for a little non-awkward Matty time, Jake popped up out of nowhere.
I hadn't seen Jake since he'd impulsively shoved his tongue down my throat. And by the look of him, you would've thought I never gave it back. I had to get out of there. And I did. And Matty still hasn't texted me back since Wednesday. Sigh.
Power Play[]
Sadie had set me up. And I had her food journal. Which meant—I was finally prepared to exact revenge. Or was I? Sadie didn't just hate me, she hated herself. And she was as powerless to the stigma of her weight as I was to the stigma of my fake suicide. Was it possible that we had something in common? And then I saw it—the scribbled words "Jenna Hamilton is an oozing skitch." Was she still worth feeling sorry for?
Fuck that. I had to take the bitch down. I was tired of laying down on the tracks and letting her flatten me over and over again. I wasn't going to play nice anymore. I was ready to show my hand. And what I had in my hand was more than enough to get what I wanted from her.
Surprisingly, what I wanted was to do something nice for my mom. She was powerless to the PV moms as I was to the PV daughters. I didn't want to be in the elite Knick Knacker world, but I owed it to mom make things right and get her in.
So I let Sadie know that I had her food journal and she wouldn't be seeing it back – except on the internet- unless my mom and I got a bid for the Knick-Knackers. Do you even need to guess what happened?
I had sealed the deal for my mom. So it was time to seal one for myself. It was time to put the carefrontation letter to rest...but when Sadie said if she'd written the letter she'd have signed her name to it, I knew my suspicion was wrong. She was telling the truth.
But if Sadie didn't write the letter, who did? It was still a mystery. But I was suddenly clear about where my powered lied. Where Sadie's power was about being cruel, I decided mine was about being kind.
Power was a zero-sum game. When you allow someone else to take it, they will. Matty had all the power in our relationship because I let him. {C}But that was about to change.
Over My Dead Body[]
Calling All Attention![]
In high school, attention was a drug. Everyone was jonesing for it. Including Principal Cox. Attention was weird. The people who had it seemed not to want it. And the people who didn't have it seemed to want nothing more.
Refocusing attention was my current strategy. I was playing hard to get with a guy that was hard to get. It seemed to be working and I wasn't going to give in to Matty's private sexcapades until I got some public attention.
I was feeling good. For once, I was gonna be in control of how Matty and everyone else saw me.Until, of course, I got picked to play Dead Stacey. It was not the kind of attention I was looking for. Other girls would have killed to be in my shoes. Playing Dead Stacey was bigger than being homecoming queen, but I was trying to bury my suicide stigma, not advertise it.
And speaking of unwanted attention...Jake's obsession with our accidental kiss was one more thing that would just not die. After it happened, I had called him and tried to smooth the situation out. I told him that we were friends and these things just sometimes happen. He agreed, so I thought we were cool. And yet somehow, he was still tweaking about it. He needed to take an emotional antacid, because the facts were simple: he had a girlfriend. I had a...Matty.
I was starting to realize that there was really something to the playing hard to get thing. Whoever said, "If you build it, they will come" was wrong. Tear it down. They come running.
Over My Dead Body[]
Valerie needed me to avert career suicide but to help her I would have to commit social suicide...again. I knew I couldn't make her understand that I didn't want to have another fake death hanging over my head. So...I lied. {C}Because it should have made sense that my parents wouldn't want to promote my stigma. How was I supposed to know that Valerie would SHOW UP TO MY HOUSE!!! Or that my mom would encourage me to make a public display of my suicide stigma as Dead Stacey. Cause it was cool in 1995 when she played her. According to my mother, Dead Stacey was popular before she got impaled by the glass of Johnny's windshield. Therefore, playing someone popular would only increase my chances of being seen as popular. In crazy mom logic- this made sense. But what didn't make sense was my dad's reluctance to help me get out of it. I was giving him all the "save me!" signals and he couldn't throw me a line. When I told him that I didn't want to encourage my suicide stigma- he told me to "Change the coversation." I was so over my dad and his haiku advice. Change the conversation? I had no idea what that meant. All I knew was that I was stuck between a rock and a dead place. I had been caught in a lie and even though I was convinced Valerie had a touch of Aspergers, I didn't want her to lose her job. So there was not much I could do but...die.
Social Death or Social Resurrection?[]
Things don't always go as planned. Especially in situations involving me and Matty. It was the first time I listened to my instincts. And not only did Matty refuse to introduce me to his brother, but I got a door slammed in my face. Even in private he was shutting me out. Where was the Grim Reaper when I needed him? Was it because of my stigma? He was even embarrassed for his drunk brother to see me? I needed answers. I was tired of being Matty's secret. As I walked to my very public death, I couldn't help but wonder: Did I just kill my private relationship with Matty McKibben?
Luckily, I didn't have much time to think about it because Jake was still dying to talk about our kiss and what it meant. He probably could have picked a better time than mid-blood squirt to confess that he had feelings for me. But when I thought about it...I definitely had feelings too. Were they feelings for Jake? Or was it the feeling you get right before you die?
Dead Stacey ended up living, thanks to a brilliant intervention by Drunk Natalie aka Tamara. I was sure playing Dead Stacey would result in social suicide. But instead, my reputation was resurrected. The event was a hit. I was applauded. And Matty gave me a VERY public hug. For the first time...I got the attention I was looking for.
The Adventures of Aunt Ally and the Lil' Bitch[]
Peer-ent Pressure[]
For fifteen years, my mother's form of parenting was to peer-ent. She was all about crossing inapprorpriate boundaries. So the fact that she was finally acting appropriate felt...suspicious. Something was definitely up.
It was ninety-five degrees in November. And there was a funk in the air. Maybe an earthquake was about to hit...
Unfortunately, it was another natural disaster. My mom's BFF Ally. I would have preferred the earthquake. My suspicions were correct. My mom was buttering me up to cushion the blow. And man did Ally blow. Hard. She was the most immature thirty two year old in the world. Example: she made a bad suicide joke in my presence. Ally claimed she was the queen of treading lightly. This was coming from a woman who had simply referred to me as Lil' Bitch since the day I was born.
Ally needed a serious reality check. But I knew she wouldn't get it from my mom.... who indulged any and all of her crazy whims. And this time, that meant throwing me kegger. Apparently, Ally was being "generous" and "open." The only thing open about Ally were her legs. And all I could do was pray she'd keep them closed at my party. God forbid, my mother's bestie go down for pedophilia. Hmm...or was that a bad thing?
Blacked Out and Whacked Out[]
I'll admit, I was a total newbie to the party-throwing thing. But, even as a newbie, I knew that blacking out during your own shindy was a total party foul. So...I was a newbie with duck tape around her boobies.
At least the worst that could have happened, didn't. When I woke up with someone next to me in bed, I had a momentary panic that I had swapped sweat (and other things) with one of the Barneys my mom had warned me against. Was it possible that my mother let a guy sleep in my bed? Dumb question. Of course it was. But the person practically spooning me was Ally. Never had I been so glad to see her.
Funny thing about getting drunk...nothing. For six hours, I was walking and talking and the memory was nonexistent in my brain. I was spiral city. In every sense. Tamara wasn't answering her phone so I needed a cyber forensic ASAP Cause according to Ally, I'd gotten come action. And apparently so did my home page. And then I fucked matty. It was good.
Forgive or...please forget.[]
In my attempt to remember the night, I'd discovered why some things were convenient to forget. My head was throbbing. But it wasn't just from lack of hydration, it was also from excessive humiliation. And the question still remained: had I attacked Matty with my tongue? In more ways than one? And did I ruin his shoes?
No. F-ing. Way.
I KISSED RICKY SCHWARTZ?!
This was bad. This was bad bad. This was the Colossus of bad. They were going to build a giant freaking statue commemorating my horror and terrible decision-making and unintended bestie betrayal. And then they'd probably build another. Whoever "they" were.
And it was public. Who knew how many people saw the picture...not to mention the actual event? The kiss was just an additional thing I could add to the list of reasons why I'd potentially just screwed up everything with Matty. But for now, Matty could wait. Tamara couldn't. I had to talk to her before doing anything else.
The kiss didn't mean anything. I didn't even remember it. If only I could make her forget it, too...
...she'd understand, right?
My Super Bittersweet Sixteen[]
Birthday Bashed[]
There were a million reasons why I didn't want to get out of bed. But apparently the universe wasn't gonna let me sleep.
After throwing a hardschool kegger, I had over three hundred friends. But I wasn't deluded by my surge in popularity. I knew the difference between real friends and virtual ones. My real friends weren't talking to me. Although to be fair, Ming couldn't. Literally.
While Ming was suffering from the kissing disease, I was sick over a kiss. A drunken lip slip that had cost me Tamara's friendship. And after alienating Matty and possibly Jake, my friendscape was pretty barren.
But making new friends wasn't going to be a problem. I had the interweb.
...Which was full of creeps. If the day ever comes where I do want to see a random dude's penis over a video chat, someone please just shoot me.
If my life had an escape button, I would've checked out for the day. There was only one small problem. It was my goddamn birthday.
And there was nothing happy about it. It was just another crap day in two thousand suck.
Best Friends For... Never?[]
I never thought that Tamara and I would end up where we were. Tamara and I argued sometimes, but in all the years we'd been friends, we'd never had a huge nails-out, eye-scratching fight. But...I kind of wished we had that instead of the iceberg-tundra thing we had going on. And I didn't know if we would ever thaw out.
I should've been mad at her for writing the heinous letter, but I wasn't. I was still...in shock.
What had I done that made her write me that letter? How long had she had all these issues with me? The letter was not a random act. Everything it said had been seriously thought out. Our friendship was over. Or was it? After avoiding me for days, Tamara looked right at me, like she was totally open to my face-mail. My dad was right, she was throwing me a birthday bone. Or not...it just was a momentary mirage in the desert of dissing.
I used to feel bad for David Shapiro, eating by himself every day...until I found out he wasn't really eating alone. He had imaginary friends. Which, theoretically, was like six to ten more than I had.
Basically, I was stuck with Valerie- my counselor. And her birthday "rap" –while well-intentioned- was about the nail in my bad birthday coffin. Up until that moment, the rumors of my death wish had been greatly exaggerated.
I wanted to leave, but I couldn't. I had just received another gift...of the monthly variety. And since Tamara was the keeper of the back-up pants, there was no way I was getting my hands on them.
No Doubt[]
Reasonable Doubt[]
So Tamara didn't write the letter. It was a bittersweet discovery. Okay, more sweet than bitter, but even though it meant my best friend didn't totally hate me, it also meant I still didn't know who did.
Was it possible that Matty wrote it?
If Tamara was right and he was molding me in private so he could take me out in public...then he saw me as someone who was worth putting all this effort into. Sure, it was a backhanded compliment, but in a screwed up way, maybe it was kind. Okay. Maybe that would just be totally douchey. Possibly with a hint of misguided sweetness?
While Tamara made a good case with her "Law and Order" logic, I just couldn't wrap my mind around Matty writing the letter. I mean...He was a remedial speller. And that was proof enough for me to exonerate him
Doubtful[]
The Matty investigation was inconclusive. But if I was a judge...
I'd throw his case outta court.
I Am Jenna Hamilton[]
Take Care[]
"As you are now, you could disappear and no one would notice." I wish it were true. I had assumed my rep as a suicide case was all but dead, but my stigma was alive...and kicking me in the ass. Now everyone could read the carefrontation letter and take part in humiliating me even more.
Jake, of course, came to my rescue. Even though I had turned down his winter formal invite, I could still depend on him to make me feel like a normal human being and not a communal punching bag.
But...it was weird. Matty still hadn't told Jake about us...
And apparently, Matty didn't want to even go to the dance anymore. How could I be Matty's girl when I was still his secret? Because I wasn't Matty's girl, I was "that girl." Who never stood a chance of going to the formal. A freak in a fancy dress was still a freak.
While I was reeling about Matty, Tamara found out that she was Ricky Schwartz's fourth invite. She was ready to write him off. Tamara did deserve better. And she wasn't the only one.
I had taken great care to be the daughter my mom always wanted and the girl Matty wanted to be with. But along the way, I lost sight of myself. It was time to take care of me and I wasn't gonna sit around and cry about it. Okay. Maybe a little.
Seeing Jenna[]
Somewhere along the way, I was trying so hard to fit in that I lost myself. New Jenna was more visible, but I couldn't see Old Jenna in her anymore.
And now that I realized it, I owed it to the old invisible girl in me to be bold again. Asking Jake to the formal was just the first step. I was leaving my Renaissance and heading into my Golden Age. Cause I wasn't "that girl" anymore...and I wasn't "Matty's girl" either. I was Jenna Hamilton.
Fateful[]
Choice Vs. Chance[]
Someone once said that it's choice, not chance, that determines our destiny. My head made the choice to end things with Matty. But my heart...
...my heart was still waiting for the chance that my head might...reconsider.
Did I screw up my destiny? Or was my fate supposed to stink?
But it was settled. I was going to the dance with Jake. With special guest star Tamara. With T by my side, a good time at the dance was all but in the cards...contingent upon one more thing. If I wasn't going to let fate influence my decisions, I wouldn't let some vile letter do it either. It was time to put my past where it belonged. In the past.
Unlike Matty, Jake wasn't afraid to be a dork. And I was ready to dork out with him. I was living in the moment. And I didn't know if it was by chance or by choice. But I didn't care. It was time for me...to bust a move.
On the dance floor, Tamara found out that Ricky had been her missed connection. I told Jake I'd explain it later, but in truth, the story was short. Tamara had connected with the guy she thought was missing. Which made me wonder if I was still missing the guy I had been connected to?
And then I stopped thinking. And I let myself live in the moment. Everything with Jake was easy. Everything was as it was meant to be. Cause finally the other guy I had been pining over was all but a distant...
...forty feet away.
Matty had come to find me at the dance. Clusterfuck #1. And...he saw me in a lip-lock with Jake. Clusterfuck #2. We were speaking in code and he wanted to know if it was too late. Too late to be with me. I was confused. I didn't know if I should listen to my head...or my heart. So I went with my hand....that slipped into Jake's.
One door to my heart had closed. Which meant a new one could open. And Jake was more than welcome to walk through it.
Chance[]
Someone once said that it's choice, not chance, that determines our destiny. But it was hard for me to process who would ever choose to find what I found.
It was chance.
Confused ![]
I am so confused what is happening to me. Don't get me wrong I really like Matty but when ever I see Collin feeling of desire rush all over my body. What is happening to me ? Am I falling for Collin ? When I think about my first time with Matty in the closet I always picture Collin instead. Is it a sign that I may not really have feelings for Matty but just teenage hormones for sex.