Dear Friends,

Today is Friday, May 9, 2008.

This is Entry Number 50.

Regan and I went to see SPA's production of "Our Town" this evening. As I believe I mentioned before, my aunt bought me this wonderful little dress that I've been dying to wear forever, and what better time to wear it: I'm officially finished with Max and I get to sit in a room with Seth Riley for two hours. How perfect, right? But I also thought, perhaps, I would look a bit over dresed in my fancy getup, so I begged Regan to go out and buy a dress, just so that I wouldn't look like a complete dork.

School was the same as it is every day: pointless. And that's so unlike me to say, because I'm Miss Charlotte Harvard-Bound (Hopefully) Keep, and I never hated school. Ever. Until this year, that is. People started acting stupid. Perhaps I shouldn't have let them bump me ahead. (Being only thirteen I should still be in the eighth grade, but the damn teachers saw some stupid potential in me and sent me to high school.) It's that different from seventh grade, though. Just a lot more stupid people, sexual referrences, and "that's what she saids." But I'm hanging in there.

I think, for the time being, Max and I are pretty much good. Believe or not, I sat on his lap throughout our entire history class. Now I know what you're thinking: Charlotte! I thought you were finished with him? But here's the dealio: Yes, I don't want Max to be my boyfriend anymore. I'm sick of having him around all the time, reminding me of it. And I still think he can be a complete idiot. But that doesn't mean there's still a little part of me that can't let go, and wishes we were still best friends like in the good old days of middle school. So it wasn't like a boyfriend-girlfriend thing; more of a suck-on-that-Charlotte-Wite kind of thing, because she's completely in love with him. (Talk about "that's what she said.")

I got home today at four o'clock as usual, so I had two hours to get ready for the play. Well, I decided to for the Taylor Swift look, as I did that Monday when I thought things were going to be cool with Connie Mailla. (Someone whom I don't wish to speak of now, since I'm still happy from tonight.) Now, as I've mentioned before, I have very, very thick hair. I mean, like, it weights down my head. So by six o'clock (the time at which we were supposed to be walking out the door) I was still doing my make-up. (I don't usually wear anything other than mascara because of my stupid blonde eyelashes, but it was a special night, and I wanted to look purdy.)

So after getting lost once we pull into the parking lot twenty-five minutes after the play started. Now I was just about ready to cry by then. The one time I get to see Seth Riley without Max breathing down my neck, I miss a third of it. But I just about cried even more when we finally made it inside. We got seats right in the back, of course, but I had a perfect view of the only reason I was even there.

I, to this moment, have absolutely no clue what that play was about. I think even if I hadn't been late, I still wouldn't have followed it, because there was this new chick that I've not seen in the plays in the past who had this really weird, deep voice and I couldn't understand I word she said. And that damn traitor Laurel Smith has such a soft voice that I couldn't hair anything she said. But I just have to say, he was totally the best in the play. That's one of the only things most people actually do like about Seth Riley: he is a damn good actor. He really gets into it, you know?

I was ready to close my eyes afterwards when he would probably snatch up Charlotte Hanna and they'd start making-out, but that never happened, and for that I was grateful. After the play was over, Regan and I just followed him through the building. We even walked all the way down to the guys bathroom and waited outside, pretending to be looking for Bobbie (who wasn't even there) the whole time.

After that we went out and played in the dark parking lot for a while, Regan, Lily and I. We all had on our pretty dresses so we were making up a dance while we waited for somoene to come and pick us up and take us to get something to eat.

While we were walking out Regan says, "Charlotte, you're my best friend; you're like my sister. And I just need to say something: I didn't understand anything in that play."

"Don't worry, Re, I didn't either. And yet . . . I enjoyed it."

She smacked me good because she knew exactly what I meant.

Once I was home I washed the half-bottle of hairspray out of my hair, made some mac-n-cheese, peeled some clementines, poured some "decaf" root beer and Lily and I made copies of the programs for the play so that I could draw hearts around Seth Riley and give Charlotte Hanna devil horns without ruining my precious real program. (I grabbed two, just in case.) Ultimately, I decided devil horns just were not enough for Charlotte, so I ended up just scribbling out her face and doodling on the rest of their faces until I kicked Lily out about fifteen minutes ago so I could give you all a play-by-play of my evening.

So that's all. The whole fam-damily's headed to my grandmother's house tomorrow to celebrate Mother's Day, so I'm considering wearing my dress to that, also. My grandmother "loves to see me in a dress" because I have "such good legs." And that, my friends, is a direct quote from my seventy-two-year-old grandmother. I'm just looking forward to the look on Mother's face when she sees the gift that my aunt always buys  Lily, Liam and me to give to her. What is this look? A look of knowingness.

Hugs and take care.

Charlotte