Michael doesn’t realize the MAJOR sacrifice I am making, just by agreeing to watch whatever it is he’s going to make me watch tomorrow night.

In fact, probably one of the major reasons I haven’t transcended my ego and achieved self-actualization yet is because of the psychological scarring I have received from the movies. I wonder if Dr. Carl Jung knew about this when he invented self-actualization. Or did they even HAVE movies back when he was alive?


From the desk of

Her Royal Highness

Princess Amelia Mignonette

Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo

Dear Dr. Carl Jung,

Hi. I know you’re still dead and all, but I was just wondering—when you were inventing the whole self-actualization thing, did you take into account the way movies mess people up? Because it is very difficult to transcend the ego when you are constantly thinking about things like oil tankers blowing up on the highway.

And what about teenagers? We have special concerns and insecurities that adults simply don’t seem to possess. I mean, I have never seen a single adult worrying about a valedictorian possibly taking out a death warrant on her.

And what about boyfriends? There isn’t a single mention of boyfriends or even romance on branches of the Jungian tree of self-actualization. I understand that in order to reap the fruits of life (health, joy, contentment), you must start at the roots (compassion, charity, trust).

But can you really trust your boyfriend when, for instance, he is planning on having a party to which he is inviting college girls, who often smoke and seem to refer routinely to Nietzsche?

I’m not trying to criticize you or anything. I just really want to know. I mean, did you ever see Coma? It was really freaking scary. And I imagine that if you ever saw it, you might revise some of your requirements for transcending the ego. Like, for instance, the whole trust thing. I mean, I know it’s good to trust your doctor—up to a point.

But do you ever REALLY know that he’s not purposefully going to put you in a coma in order to harvest your organs and sell them to some really rich dude in Bolivia?

No. You don’t. So see? There’s a flaw in your whole theory.

So. What am I supposed to do now?

Still your friend,

Mia Thermopolis

Friday, March 5, the limo on the way to school

If Lilly comments one more time on how her interpretation of Rosagunde is going to make Julia Roberts’s portrayal of Erin Brockovich look like community theater, my head is going to spin off, shoot through the sunroof, and land in the East River.

Friday, March 5, Homeroom

They just announced over the intercom that the cast list for Braid! will go up outside the administrative offices at noon.

Just my luck. You could cut the tension around here with a knife. Not just the nervousness over who is going to get what part, either.

But the Drama Club is hopping mad that someone is putting on a musical to rival theirs. They are claiming they are going to contact the writers of Hair and tell them what Grandmère is doing—you know, because her musical’s name is so close to theirs.

I hope they do.

Although, if Grandmère gets sued and stops the show, I am back to selling candles again to raise the five grand I need.

On the other hand, there is no guarantee a musical version of the story of my ancestress Rosagunde could even raise five thousand dollars in ticket sales in the first place. I mean, who would pay money to go to a show written by my grandma? She once gave a speech at a benefit to raise money for the Genovian version of the ASPCA about how the kindest thing you can do for an animal is immortalize it forever by skinning it and using its pelt as a lovely shrug or throw for a divan.

So you see where I am coming from about this.

Friday, March 5, PE

Lana just asked me if I had her invitations yet. She asked me this as I was stepping into my underwear after my post-volleyball shower, which is about as vulnerable a position a person can be in.

I said I hadn’t had a chance to get them yet, but that I would.

Lana then looked down at my Jimmy Neutron underwear and went, “Whatever, freak,” and walked away before I got a chance to explain to her that I wear Jimmy Neutron underwear because Jimmy reminds me a bit of my boyfriend.

The genius part. Not the hair.

But I guess maybe it’s just as well. I highly doubt Lana would understand—even if she DID used to wear her boyfriend’s soccer shorts under her school skirt.

Friday, March 5, U.S. Economics

Demand = How much (quantity) of a product or service is desired by buyers.

Supply = How much the market can offer.

Equilibrium = When supply and demand are equal, the economy is said to be in equilibrium. The amount of goods being supplied is exactly the same as the amount of goods being demanded.

Disequilibrium = This occurs whenever the price or quantity is not equal to demand/supply.

(So, basically, the student government of AEHS is currently in disequilibrium due to our funds (zero) not being equal to the demand for one night’s rental of Alice Tully Hall ($5,728.00).)

Alfred Marshall, author of The Principles of Economics (circa 1890): “Economics is on one side the study of wealth; and on the other, and more important side, a part of the study of man.”

Huh. So that sort of makes economics a SOCIAL science. Like psychology. Because it isn’t really about numbers. It’s about PEOPLE, and what they are willing to spend—or do—to get what they want.

Like Lana, for instance. You know, how she was going to rat me out to Amber if I didn’t get her those invitations to Grandmère’s party?

That was a classic example of supply (I had the supply) versus demand (her demand that I give her what she wanted).

All of which leads me to believe that it’s entirely possible Lana Weinberger isn’t self-actualized at all:

She’s simply really good at economics!

Friday, March 5, English

One more period until the cast list goes up! Oh, I hope Boris gets the part of Gustav! He wants it so badly!

I hope he gets it, too, Tina! I hope everyone gets the parts they want.

What part do YOU want, Mia?

Me???? Nothing!!! I didn’t even submit a photo or a form, remember? I stink at that kind of thing. Acting and stuff, I mean.

Don’t put yourself down like that! Your Ciara imitation has gotten really EXCELLENT. And I thought you were really good as Rosagunde! Don’t you want the part just a little bit?

No, really. I’m a writer, not an actress. Remember??? I want to WRITE the things the people onstage say. Well, not really, because there’s no actual money in playwrighting. But you get what I mean.

Oh. Right. That makes sense.

Well, all I can say is, if I don’t get the part of Rosagunde, we’ll all know it’s because of the N word.

Nude scene???? When did you do a nude scene????

No, you idiot. NEPOTISM. Favoritism shown to a family member.

But that won’t happen because Mia didn’t really audition and doesn’t even WANT a part. So you should be fine, Lilly! Gosh, I hope we all get the parts we want—even if that means NO part!

I’ll second that!

Friday, March 5, Lunch

CAST LIST FOR:

Albert Einstein High School’s

Alternative Spring Musical

Braid!

Chorus….….…….

Amber Cheeseman, Julio Juarez, Margaret Lee, Eric Patel, Lauren Pembroke, Robert Sherman, Ling Su Wong

Rosagunde’s father…..

Kenneth Showalter

Rosagunde’s maid…..

Tina Hakim Baba

King of Italy….…….

Perin Thomas

Alboin….….….….

Boris Pelkowski

Alboin’s mistress….

Lilly Moscovitz

Gustav….….….….

John Paul Reynolds-Abernathy IV

Rosagunde….…….

Amelia Thermopolis Renaldo

FIRST REHEARSAL TODAY, 3:30 P.M.

The Plaza Hotel, Grand Ballroom

I know I’m only supposed to use my cell phone for emergencies. But the minute I saw that cast list, I could tell this was an emergency. A MAJOR one. Because Grandmère has no idea of the MAGNITUDE of what she’s done.

I called her from the jet line.

“Hello, you’ve reached Clarisse, Dowager Princess of Genovia. I’m either shopping or receiving a beauty treatment at the moment, and cannot come to the phone. At the tone, please leave your name and number, and I’ll ring you back shortly.”

Boy, did I let her have it. Or her voice mail, anyway:

“Grandmère! What do you think you’re doing, casting me in your musical? You know I didn’t even want to audition for it, and that I don’t have any acting talent whatsoever!”

Tina, in line beside me, kept nudging me, going, “But your version of ‘Barbie Girl’ was so good!”

“Well, okay, maybe I can sing,” I shouted into the phone, “but Lilly is much better! You better call me back right away so we can get this mess straightened out, because you’re making a HUGE mistake.” I added this last part for Lilly’s sake, who, even though she’s taken the whole thing really well, still looked a little red around the eyes when she joined us in the jet line, after having disappeared into the ladies’ room for a long time once she’d seen the cast list.

“Don’t worry,” I said to Lilly after I hung up. “You’re destined for the part of Rosagunde. Really.”