Dear Dumb Diary #3: Am I the Princess or the Frog? Read online

  THINK YOU CAN HANDLE

  JAMIE KELLY’S FIRST YEAR OF DIARIES?

  #1 LET'S PRETEND THIS NEVER HAPPENED

  #2 MY PANTS ARE HAUNTED!

  #3 AM I THE PRINCESS OR THE FROG?

  #4 NEVER DO ANYTHING, EVER

  #5 CAN ADULTS BECOME HUMAN?

  #6 THE PROBLEM WITH HERE IS THAT IT'S WHERE I'M FROm

  #7 NEVER UNDERESTIMATE YOUR DUMBNESS

  #8 IT’S NOT MY FAULT I KNOW EVERYTHING

  #9 THAT’S WHAT FRIENDS AREN'T FOR

  #10 THE WORST THINGS IN LIFE ARE ALSO FREE

  #11 OKAY, SO MAYBE I DO HAVE SUPERPOWERS

  #12 ME! (JUST LIKE YOU, ONLY BETTER)

  AND DON’T MISS YEAR TWO!

  YEAR TWO #1: SCHOOL. HASN’T THIS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH?

  YEAR TWO #2: THE SUPER-NICE ARE SUPER-ANNOYING

  YEAR TWO #3: NOBODY'S PERFECT. I'M AS CLOSE AS iT GETS.

  YEAR TWO #4: WHAT I DON’T KnOW MiGHT HURT mE

  SCHOLASTIC INC.

  Dear Whoever Is Reading My Dumb Diary,

  Are you sure you’re supposed to be

  reading somebody else’s diary? Have you

  done this before? If I did NOTgive you

  permission, you had better stop right NOW.

  If you are my parents, then YES, I know

  that I am not allowed to call people idiots

  and fools and turds and trolls and all that,

  but this is a diary, and I didn’t actually

  “call” them anything. I wrote it. And, if

  you punish me for it, then I will know that

  you read my diary, which you do not have

  perMission to do.

  Now, by the power vested in me, I do

  promise that everything in this diary is true,

  or at least as true as I think it needs to be.

  Signed,

  PS: Although if it’s You-know-who that’s

  reading my diary, well, then, it’s totally okay. But if

  it’s You-know-who, then you had better close

  this book right now, or else You-know-who is

  going to get a you-know-what in the you-

  know-where. You know?

  PPS: I know that you don’t believe in fairies or

  anything, so you probably wouldn’t believe a fairy

  could turn you into a frog if you kept reading. But

  I’ll bet you believe in hammers and I’ll bet you

  believe that I have one and I’ll bet you believe that

  I know where your head is. Let’s just say that fair-

  ies are not your biggest worry if you decide to keep

  reading.

  1

  Saturday 31

  Isabella was over for most of the day today

  and we worked out our entire future together. We’re

  going to marry identical twins and live next door to

  each other and have exactly the same number of

  kids (nine girls, eight boys) and we’ll time it so that

  they’re all the same ages as each other’s kids.

  We’ll have our own clothing store but we

  won’t sell anything good to people we hate. Our

  husbands will be firemen or doctors or something,

  but they have to be the same thing so that neither

  one of us is richer than the other. And if one of our

  husbands gets in an accident and loses a foot or

  something, the other husband will have to cut his

  off just to be fair.

  I really didn’t think this was a reasonable

  thing to expect from a husband, especially if

  instead of getting a foot cut off it’s something like

  falling out of an airplane. But Isabella says that she

  is much more of an expert on guys than I am, and

  that our husbands will be so totally into us that

  they will probably come up with this idea by

  themselves, anyway.

  Sunday 01

  Dear Dumb Diary,

  Once again, Mom committed Dinner

  against the entire family tonight. As usual, I’m up

  here in my room clutching my guts wondering what

  the police would call this particular food crime.

  Maybe Assault with a Breaded Weapon?

  Or Hamicide?

  2

  I really don’t know what kind of meat was in

  the Meat Thing,but I’m sure that Mom has a

  cookbook somewhere called 101 Recipes

  Using Ingredients That Shun the

  Daylight.

  Dad and I have been trying not to complain

  about the food because a few weeks ago, Mom had

  one of her Nobody - Appreciates-How-Hard -It -Is-

  to- Make -Dinner-and -One-Day-You’ll-Appreciate -

  My-Cooking episodes. In retrospect, Dad and I

  probably should not have held our noses all the way

  through dinner.

  Fortunately, I had the foresight to make a

  candy necklace out of Rolaids, so I can kind of

  medicate myself throughout the meals. Dad’s not

  so lucky.

  3

  WARNING TO MY FUTURE CHILDREN:

  If I ever

  have children and they are reading my diary right

  now, I want you to know, kids, that you must never

  ever ever eat Grandma’s cooking. Also, My Little

  Darlings, you are grounded for reading my diary, so

  go find Mommy right now and tell her what you’ve

  done, because you’re in for a HUGE punishment.

  And I’m telling Santa.

  4

  Since it’s Sunday, Dumb Diary, I have to work

  on the homework that’s due tomorrow instead of

  sitting on the couch watching reruns of reality TV

  shows, which is what I’d really like to be doing. As

  Dad helpfully pointed out, if I had finished my h.w.

  on Friday, I could be relaxing right now. Dads are

  really good at pointing out Things Everybody

  Already Knew.

  Anyway, we’re finishing up our poetry unit in

  English class right now, and I have to write a poem

  about feelings. Here’s what I have so far:

  5

  Monday 02

  Dear Dumb Diary,

  Angeline rears her ugly head! Which of course

  isn’t ugly, and I’m not even going to talk about her

  rears. You get the idea.

  You remember last week how I told you that

  Isabella told me that Anika Martin, who is friends

  with Amy Feinstein (who we talk to sometimes even

  though she was born with the handicap of being a

  year younger than us), who is friends with a girl

  named Vanessa Something, who knows Angeline’s

  cousin, told her that she had heard that Angeline

  had come up with a new top secret shampooing

  technique.

  6

  Supposedly, Angeline has invented something

  called ZONE SHAMPOOING. The idea is that

  you shampoo each zone of your head with its own

  distinct fragrance of shampoo. Anytime Angeline

  wants to, she can flip her hair in one direction or

  the other and shoot a delicious waft of fragrance

  right at your unsuspecting nose. More diabolical

  yet, she can sequence her hair flips and combine
r />   fragrances so that maybe you think you just smelled

  apple pie with vanilla cinnamon ice cream, or

  maybe a kiwi- strawberry smoothie with a touch of

  key lime.

  Why would somebody want to do this evil

  thing?

  7

  -

  Well, Dumb Diary, I can tell you why

  somebody might NOTwant to do this thing. Today I

  gave Zone Shampooing a try, and when I attempted

  to shoot Hudson Rivers (eighth - cutest boy in my

  grade ) a snootful of Raspberry Delight (right side of

  head ) combined with Coconut Madness (left lower

  quadrant of head), my English teacher, Mr. Evans—

  who was walking by at that exact moment—saw my

  attempt and thought I was having a seizure. He

  took me to the office, and the school nurse made

  me lie down on the cot for a while.

  8

  Then, at lunch, Isabella admitted that maybe

  she didn’t have the story straight and might have

  made some of it up. I don’t really blame her,

  though — it sounds so much like something Angeline

  might do that if I had made it up myself, I probably

  would have believed it, too.

  9

  Tuesday 03

  Dear Dumb Diary,

  I was the first person who had to read my

  poem out loud in Mr. Evans’s class today. He liked

  it, I think, and he said something about something

  and then something else about something else, and

  I think he might have continued on about something

  else after that for a while, finishing up with

  something about something. I know that I am

  supposed to be paying better attention to Mr.

  Evans, but I was trying to watch Angeline out of the

  corner of my eye and didn’t hear everything Mr.

  Evans said.

  10

  I was trying to watch Hudson at the same

  time out of the corner of my other eye, which, in

  fairness to Mr. Evans, probably DIDlook a little bit

  like I was having another seizure —kind of like the

  one I didn’t have yesterday— and I was sent down

  to the office again for a little lie -down time on the

  cot.

  11

  Even though Mr. Evans was pretty sure I was

  going mental, he still made sure that I caught the

  next big assignment on the way out the door. Now

  that we’re done with poetry, we have to select a

  popular fairy tale and write a report about it.

  See, some teachers don’t care if you’re sick—

  they still make you do your work. I heard that one

  time this kid had one of his legs chopped off by a

  snow blower on the way to school, but since he had

  Mr.Evans, the kid dragged himself to school

  anyway, and Mr.Evans is so strict that he marked

  the kid partially absent.

  12

  Wednesday 04

  Dear Dumb Diary,

  As you know, Dumb Diary (since I like to doodle

  on your face every day), art is one of my favorite

  subjects. But today in art class, Miss Anderson (the

  teacher who is pretty enough to be a waitress) said

  we’re going to be doing a project involving

  photography, which, according to her, is art.

  I think that’s kind of like saying that

  recording a song is the same as singing one, but

  Miss Anderson is one of the few teachers I really

  really like, so I only performed a mild dirty look

  when she said it.

  13

  Had I known that she was going to buddy me

  up with Angeline on the project, I would have used a

  much stronger dirty look. Possibly even Dirty

  Look Number Eleven.

  (Note: It’s important to practice your dirty

  looks and keep them numbered. Never try to mix

  them. Once I detonated numbers 8 and 4 at the

  same time, and it came out looking like a smile. It’s

  a long story, but that accidental smile is why I

  unintentionally went with my aunt one time when

  she needed to shop for her big old bras.)

  14

  Our photo projects are going to go up in the

  lunchroom at the end of the month for the whole

  school to see. Angeline already had an idea for ours

  and, before talking it over with me, she just blurted

  it out in front of the entire class. That’s right, Dumb

  Diary, She just “cuts the idea” the way some people

  cut farts.

  Angeline suggested that she and I collect

  pictures of all the teachers when they were kids and

  make a big collage out of them so that everybody

  can see for themselves, I guess, just how punishing

  time is on the human body. Miss Anderson loved the

  idea, of course. As anybody can plainly see, she is

  beautiful now so she was for sure even more

  beautiful before she became a teacher (since there

  is no way that working with kids can improve your

  appearance).

  So she told us to get started.

  15

  I know what you’re thinking, Dumb Diary.

  You’re thinking, “Wow, Jamie. You’re

  totally pretty and a really good

  dancer.” I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong,

  Dumb Diary, but please, try to stay on the subject.

  There is more to this whole art class tragedy.

  16

  My so -called best friend, Isabella— who may

  be missing that part of the body where you keep

  your soul (It might be called the Soul Hole. I’m not

  a doctor.) — announces that her photography

  project is to put up pictures of everyone in the class

  with their pet, to show how people and their pets

  look alike.

  “PEOPLE AND THEIR PETS LOOK

  ALIKE, ” she says.

  First off, my pet is a dog, which is the

  international symbol for Ugly Girl, and my dog is

  the dog that other dogs are grateful that they at

  least don’t look as bad as.

  I don’t want to say that Stinker is ugly, but

  the only reason other dogs sniff him is to see which

  end is his face.

  So, thanks a lot, Isabella.

  17

  PS: I tried to secretly sniff Angeline from two sides

  today to see if she really is Zone Shampooing. I

  couldn’t tell the difference. I don’t think there is

  such a thing.

  PPS: There is, however, a way to creep somebody

  out by trying to smell both sides of their head.

  18

  Thursday 05

  Dear Dumb Diary,

  That’s right. It’s Thursday. And Thursday, at

  Mackerel Middle School and other penitentiaries, is

  traditionally Meat Loaf Day. That means it’s

  also the day we traditionally get all sorts of grief

  from Miss Bruntford, the cafeteria monitor, for not

  finishing our meat loaf.

  Today, I quietly mentioned that the people on

  Fear Factor wouldn’t finish our meat loaf, either.

  Evidently, I said it loud enough for Miss Bruntford’s

  houndlike ears to pick it up, because she came right

  over and said to me, “What? What is so terrible

  about this meat
loaf?”

  And then, Dumb Diary, she took a bite.

  19

  Okay, here’s the thing: I don’t hate teachers.

  I actually like some of them. (One time, I even saw

  one at the mall and she was buying underwear such

  as actual people wear.)

  But when Miss Bruntford took a bite of the

  meat loaf, and her mouth was filled with the flavor

  that many have described as a combination of a

  petting zoo in July and a burning bag of hair, well, I

  have to tell you, it was a beautiful, beautiful

  moment.

  I’m not even sure how to describe it exactly. I

  think Miss Bruntford herself summed it up best when

  she said . . .

  20

  21

  Friday 06

  Dear Dumb Diary,

  I’m not sure what happened to Miss

  Bruntford. She wasn’t in school today, and there

  was something so pleasant about it all that I

  temporarily forgave Isabella for her stupid people-

  pet lookalike idea and we ate together at lunch.

  Isabella says she heard that Miss Bruntford is in the

  hospital with Spontaneous Diverticulosis

  or something. It’s one of those old -people diseases

  that makes them talk about their bowels to others.

  She says we’re getting a new cafeteria monitor

  nextweek.

  I never wished for Miss B. to get sick. At least,

  I never actually threw more than three bucks in

  quarters into a fountain when I wished I for it. But if

  she had to get sick, it really is sort of like an Act

  of Justice that it was the meat loaf that did

  herin.

  22

  It almost makes me believe that, in addition

  to fairies like the Tooth Fairy, there’s a Fairy of Food