Saturday, January 18, 2003
Whoever thought up this whole trip’s got a lot of explaining to do is all I got to say. It just burns me up!! And, duh, I know Sister Beak says that underlining words and exclamation points don’t count as expressive writing but she can sit on the Washington Monument for all I care.
     Immaculate Conception 8th grade class trip. It just sounds queer. Not queer like Uncle Randy, but stupid, what Uncle Randy says English people call NAF, which means normal as f-word. LOL. I love Uncle Randy! And he’s in Washington, too. He gets to go to the Anti-War March and probably be on MTV or something. We have to go to the war memorials and then to all the monuments and then the Mall—not like the Galleria, but the one here with like tons of boring museums—and then, on Weds., we go to the March for Life. And did I mention, it’s freezing!! Duh, let’s walk around Washington D.C. in like below subzero weather. Retarded.
     Anyway, I hope that Uncle Randy calls. We’re at this big cool Hilton near the big white Congress dome. You can see it out the window if I smash my face against the glass and look all the way to the right. At least I think that’s what it is. We saw it on the way in from the airport—where Janie McCormick lost her lunch. LOL. She’s so stupid! Yacked up all over the baggage thing at the Reagan Airport. I was like, have some sympathy for our dead presidents! At least she didn’t do it in the airplane where we would have all been stuck with it.
     Well, good night. Got a lot of stupid walking IN THE COLD to do tomorrow.

Sunday, January 19, 2003
We went to all the war memorials today. I never saw so many strangers crying when we got to the one that looks like a shiny black wall with all the names of the dead guys chipped in—Vee It Nam Memorial, I think.
     OK, so it wasn’t as stupid as I thought it was going to be. But it was cold! Brrrr! It was only 19 with the wind-chill today and I asked Mom, Why don’t tears freeze? She didn’t know. She guessed they’re too warm, but that doesn’t make sense. It’s not like blood. Blood freezes. I think it freezes.
     Mom went to get some more towels. She’s like, don’t open the door for ANYBODY! Real psycho. She won’t even let me go down to the lobby by myself. Ooooh, like some Senator’s going to abduct me. Ooooh, I’m scared. Stupid!
     Speaking of stupid, if Brian Kirby doesn’t stop following me, I’m going to hock a loogy in his mouth! All day, he’s like right in my face, everywhere I look. I swear, he’s going to have his own memorial if he doesn’t watch it!

Monday, January 20, 2003
We went out to this fancy restaurant tonight. Real expensive, I guess. It was prix fix. Everything was in French on one side and English on the other, but all we could do was choose between gross beef or grosser salmon! I ate my salad, three dinner rolls, and chocolate cake. Mom even let me have a second Diet Pepsi, too! Way cool.
     Idiot Bobby Weller goes to the waiter, I’ll have french fries and french toast, please. He thinks he’s so funny. Tony Lascala goes to the waiter real loud, yeah, what he really wants is a french kiss!!
     Then, Sister Beak screams, Tony Lascala! You come sit over here by me and keep silent! Meanwhile, she would never raise her voice to him if his Mom or Dad were chaperoning like my Mom is. But Mom thought she was right. That’s inappropriate dinnertime behavior, she says. And I’m like, you don’t eat lunch with these guys every day. It’s totally typical lunchtime behavior. Sometimes it’s worse!
     Anyway, we went to the Lincoln Memorial, Jefferson Memorial, the White House, the Mall, the Smithsonian Museum and the one with the planes and rockets and stuff because Shelley Farelli’s Dad (Mel Farelli! LOL!) says real loud, this is all well and good for the girls, but what are we going to do for the boys while we’re in Washington?
     And can I say, Mom snores! I always thought it was just Dad, but she sure does hold her own!!

Wednesday, January 22, 2003
I didn’t get a chance to write last night because Faith and Mary got to come over to our room for a sleepover. We still had posters to make and stuff, and Mary brought along her bedazzler, so we all wrote ABORTION STOPS A HEART! in rhinestones on the backs of our red sweatshirts.
     Guess what? EVERYBODY WORE RED! And there we were in our red outfits like retards. I mean, I don’t mind dressing up with my class, because like we do it everyday in our school uniforms, but to be like all in red with every other person practically in Washington today all in red! Nuh-uh. Never again!
     I know we’re supposed to be having fun and all, but this blows! I’m stuck in a hotel room with my mother and it’s freezing outside. Not that that matters, because Mom wouldn’t let me be alone in Washington D.C. anyway. Like I’m going to run away.
     And then LOSER Brian Kirby gets up next to me in the crowd of like a million people at least and starts goosing me and touching me. So, I whap him across the head with my poster and Mom gets mad and pulls me away from him like it was ME and I’m just like, why can’t Bradley Konnick be trying to touch me all the time?
     President Bush gave a speech, too. He wasn’t there. He was on the phone somewhere from St. Louis and everybody went crazy like it was Justin Timberlake or something! He said that soon we’ll all dance on the grave of Roe V. Wade and I said to Mom, I thought that guy was already dead, and she goes, what guy? And I said, Roe V. Wade, like didn’t he die thirty years ago today? And she calls me silly and says Roe V. Wade’s not a person. It’s like the name of a court case. The V stands for versus. Roe was a lady who wanted to kill her baby and Mom wasn’t sure who Wade was, although he was probably Pro-Life since he lost the case and now we all have to march in the freezing cold!!
     I can’t wait to get home and back to my bed! This was fun and all, but we’ve got more important things coming up. Like the Valentine’s Dance. And Faith says that Bradley Konnick asked Tony Lascala what he thought of me and Tony said that I was a hot chick and now Faith thinks that Bradley might really ask me as his date, which I hope he does, because next year, he’s going to the public high school and I’ll never get to see him again.

 

SARA KURTZ lives just outside of Chicago, where she plays volleyball and edits the school newspaper at Immaculate Conception. She looks forward to starting her freshman year at St. Ann’s, so she can start experimenting with all the MAC products her Uncle Randy sent her.