55

like a butterfly, she
magically emerged from her cacoon as she fell deeper in love with him. it was
something so unexpected for a tough brooklyn girl like farrah. she had never
been one of those girly girls who imagined their dream wedding and anxiously
awaited the day they could "go together" with a neigbhorhood boy. she just
wasn't the type. and as far as she could tell, love didn't bring anyone (least
of all, women) anything worthwhile. her mother was a prime example of that. she
called it "unlucky in love" but farrah saw it as "stupidly drunk on love." then
there was her old best friend, shanna. for three years, she and farrah were
inseperable after finding each other in 5th grade and becoming bffs. but then,
shanna "fell in love" with leo, a freshman at the highschool (who as far as
farrah could tell was in love with himself and basketball) and farrah was
dropped like an out of style pair of old shoes. but before she was dismissed
from her bestie duties, all shanna could talk about was leo this...and leo that.
she forced farrah to walk the very long way home from school in hopes of running
into him at the park basketball court. she even started inviting 'leo' to
outings that had always been reserved for the two of them like bike riding,
movies and even shopping. when farrah had the nerve to mention her unhappiness
with the situation, shanna got in a huff and stopped calling farrah all
together. of course, leo eventually broke up with shanna and she began calling
again. but farrah had reached her limit and refused to give in.
so, you can see how this
turn of events with flaco surprised even farrah. but no one was as good a time
as he was. no one made her bust out laughing like he did. and she couldn't ever
remember feeling this good. plus, even if someone did, his kisses
were...indescribable. she actually had to let out a happy sigh every time he
even crossed her mind......and that was pretty often. it was an incredible
feeling to have this kind of connection with someone, to be able to depend on
them yet have them make butterflies in your stomach....like a jittery, glee
filled nervousness. farrah now understood what shanna must have been going
through. she felt kind of guilty for not being more sympathetic. but then, leo
was a jerk and flaco was so....different. wasn't he? or was she just blind
because of her delirium and was just as pathetic as her mom or her old friend?
if you let juju tell it, farrah was beyond ridiculous with her new relationship.
sashalee was all about boys but not falling that deep. she was into a good time,
changing her mind about them as much as she changed her style up. and farrah had
agreed that was the best policy. the higher up you fly, the harder the crash or
something like that. farrah knew that sashalee felt her relationship with flaco
was getting in the way of memorable moments they could be having. but what could
she do about it? she didn't want to turn into a "shanna" clone but how could she
tear herself away from

new idea, bitches!


ok this time its a spin on mscl. vivienne is tired of her old boring, predictable life. she is ready for new, exciting experiences. she finds herself in a new environment (starts her sophmore year in the high school after finishing 7-9 jhs) doing the same old mundane things. she begins to observe a wild child (insert name here) and eventually befriends her. this gives her access to the crazy, free adventures she was after. plus, she begins to learn a lot about friendship as she slowly drops her old gang for the shiny new ones. but is (insert name here) really a good friend or just a path to vivienne's ultimate destruction? hmmmmm...









bad girl begins to come away at the seams. being wild isn't always as fun as it seems.




bad girl also betrays her new friend because she's jealous and wreckless.














lessons learned:




friendship is hardwork and not permanent.



what you want is not necessarily whats best for you.



being wild and carefree isn't as carefree as it seems.







muse for bg:



rayanne
latisha
amber
danielle
leg
luz lugo
jasmin valerio
madonna
annie c.






possible bg character names:


juju

sashalee
roxanne roxy

possible events:

club scene

shoplifting

possible drug use/alcohol

late nights

parties

my sister's shadow

where do i reside, you ask? thats easy. in my sister's shadow. i promise you, you have never seen anything like her before. she is flawless. i know what you're thinking but keep that cliche "no one's perfect" to yourself. she isn't perfect but her flaws only add to how wonderful she is. try living with that for a year. it goes without saying that she is beautiful, doesn't it? well, of course, she is. the type of pretty that makes it a struggle to look away. pretty isn't the best description. exotic is more precise. this means that she is so beautiful, it crosses borders, racial boundaries and any other obstacles. from her kinky, curly hair to that button nose and full lips that resemble a boat. she isn't skinny, so that the fatties can't hate her. she isn't big either, just right so she can fill out her pretty outfits perfectly. Perfect. Her olive skin tone is like a welcome mat, inviting everyone in.
Personality? oh, she's absolutely charming. fun as all get out. just elusive enough to draw people in to her mystery yet accesible enough to be honored by her presence. she is the type that hardly ever shows up for anything you invite her to "aww babe...i'd love to but i've gotta..." but will have you cancel your plans to simply run errands with her when she asks.
i try not to take it too personally that i am not my parents favorite. its nothing that they've said aloud, of course. in fact, they try hard not to make it obvious, sometimes overcompensating with loads of attention and affection. but that only proves my thesis more. my sister, libby is her name, has the nerve to be talented as well. she can perform (sing, dance, act). this simple fact is what makes her mediocre grades seem like no big deal, something to make her more endearing to her future audience when she's a celebrity. see what i was saying about the advantage of her flaws?
what do i contribute to this family of mine when they seem to have it all with their first born? im funny, sarcastic and/or witty. i have personal style (but i guess i have to with a sister like libby). i don't complain a lot. im not like that whiny Jan squeaking out "libby, libby libby!" i play my position and try not to make waves. do i like it? of course not, and you wouldn't either. no matter what kind of cool exterior you paint on, deep inside it is impossible not to resent having a sister with star quality as big as libby's. to know that for the rest of your life, you will be one of those back up singers dressed in black that helps contribute but is not truly necessary. your like the cranberry sauce to the turkey. Perhaps you will be missed by a few but Thanksgiving will go on (and successfully, most likely) without you.
there are perks to having a libby around. she can charm the pants or skirts off of any authority figure ready to lay down the law. plus, i've gone to some pretty amazing events i wouldn't have otherwise have access to because of her. therefore, i get to meet some pretty amazing people who wouldn't normally give me time of day. libby is not stingy with her popularity. because its second nature (and not threatened to end anytime soon), she does not covet or appreciate it. once given the opportunity to get in, i always hold my own and keep my spot because of the above mentioned wit and style. and btw, im no dog either. although i could never compare to my sibling, the mazzarelli's are no ugly bunch. if libby is a ten, (she has to be at least a 12 in reality) then i am a decent seven.

noelle starr-the silk interview

i know you've read enough of these to know how it usually goes. reporter waits in a quaint coffee shop for the It Girl/starlet/pop sensation. its the type of establishment that proves it girl is not unlike one of us; she prefers small venues and hasn't let fame change her a bit. however, she gracefully shuffles in an hour late at least with an apologetic smile and the new 8,000 it bag. noelle starr is a bit different, though. she chooses the cheesecake factory just outside the city for our first meeting. i thought it was odd and overanalyzed the choice for two straight days. but was more fascinating was that she was early. i was the late one. just by five rbecause of my mother who wouldn't let me get off the phone and my lack of luck with the red lights. im defensive perhaps, but the point is i was only five minutes late and noelle sat in a back booth distractedly chowing down on an order of chicken dumplings. clearly, she had been there for awhile. for just a minute, minus the stunning beauty, noelle doesn't look like a starr, but more like a normal, hungry girl.
maybe its because she hasn't been famous for long enough. she has been dabbling in acting and modelling for three or four years now, most notable, her performance as a teenage runaway in the indie film, winded. there were a few roles as the angry teenage daughter in a few barely successful romantic comedies (maybe you remember her endearing scene with hugh grant last year in Love Square?). but then came what artists call the big break. famed director, dave orman jumped on board to direct the much anticipated film, Dirty Dozen based on the teen novel series of the same name, and handpicked noelle to be the leading lady. if you don't know about the Dirty Dozen Series then 1. you must be seriously uncool, dude and 2. you better ask your teenage niece or nephew immediately.
after sitting at the booth with a sheepish smile and mumble my apologies, i take note of ms. starr. she is wearing the normal new york uniform, a black turtleneck (that looks straight out of Banana Republic) and black leggings with low top chuck taylors. i can't tell if she's not into fashion, which is what she told teen vogue in their september issue) or if she is so chic she makes it look effortless. she seems very aware of herself, methodically planning out her answers to my questions. when asked what she thinks of the character she portrays in DD, she responds after swallowing her lemonade
"fiona is unapologetic about who she is and what she wants. thats what i admire about her most. on the other hand, i completely loathe how dependent she is on marco. i understand WHY she's like that but would never condone that, you know? if she were my friend, my suggestion would be to get a life."
then she pushes her stylish bob behind her shoulders and takes another bite of her entree (chicken avocado salad) as if thats the end of that subject. so i move on to juicier issues. its been reported that she and co-star/hunk mico sanchez are the new item, despite him being six years older than the seventeen year old.
"so what was it like working with mico as your love interest?" i innocently ask, warming up to the real question.
she gives me a small sly grin, no, more like a smirk before she places her fork down to reply.
"mico was great. he really was helpful since he has a bit more experience with big budget movies than i do...we had a lot of fun."
that doesn't confirm anything so i continue on, its my job, for petesake.
"there were a lot of rumors circling about the two of you being more than just co-stars. im sure you've heard..."
noelle picks up her martini and looks over at the display of cheesecake before giving her last response to my annoying curiosity.
"there will ALWAYS be rumors. mico and i are friends, he's a great guy." end of story, she might as well add. but after this interview and before this story is published, gossip websites everywhere will have pictures of the two kissing, holding hands and giving affectionate stares you only give your significant other everywhere. but for now, mum is the word. i move on to even more touchy territory, her off screen battles and rivalry with co-star, megan bullock. on this topic, noelle is surprisingly chatty.
"there are people in the world who can't stand to share the spotlight. even if they have everything, they still don't want to see you get anything" her voice is louder and filled with hurt.
"nasty things were said about me in the press that were totally not true. i find it completely unprofessional for someone who has been in this industry for this long. but, i won't stoop to her level. i have no comment about that girl."
noelle is no doubt referring to the comment megan made on a late night talk show about noelle's lack of talent. it went something like this 'when i read the novel, i knew that I WAS fiona. I knew i had the chops to do it. but...someeone else (who has like almost no experience and hadn't even read the book or any book for that matter) swoops in and lands it. some roles aren't based on your talent in the audition but your talent elsewhere...youknowwhatimsayin?" the fights that were reported about the battles over dressing room, make up people and ultimately mico kept access hollywood and entertainment tonight in business for months. but thats what megan bullock is all about. its what she thrives on...no one should take it personally, but noelle is new and doesn't know that yet.
noelle tells me about her mother, after getting a text from her. she's a nyc assistant teacher who sacrificed a lot to get her daughter where she is today. based on the description, i take a logical guess and ask if her mother was a performer herself. noelle swears that im psychic but goes on to tell me what a great singer her mom is. she use to sing at dfferent venues on the lower east side before she married noelle's father. dad is a sticky subject since its been reported that he was arrested last year for some sketchy business dealings. noelle doesn't mind discussing him since she says she doesn't have any dealings with him and hasn't for the last four years of her life. she looks sad but strong when she talks about it. i kind of get the feeling that her disappointment in fiona's flaw stems from daddy issues. she is unwilling to be dependent and then ultimately disappointed.
we finish the meal and pay the check and i feel that we have bonded a bit, as much as a reporter and a new it girl actress can bond. is she for real. im not sure if i have been charmed by the likes of a starr. i mean their whole career is about sucking us in. however, the following week when i see a glam noelle at the photo shoot, she jumps out the make-up chair to hug me hello. she just may be the real thing, i decide.
it went something like this. "

Gwen Stefani - Cool

Gwen Stefani - Cool

286 Early Bird

i was awakened at the crack of dawn by a loud slam. it was my parents' bedroom door. then i heard it open with a dramatic jerk. no, you don't walk out on me when im talking to you. you don't get to close the door on me, jon. it was my mother, highly distraught (as usual). her emotions, her grief, her desperation were bubbling over and foaming out of her mouth. i quickly crept closer to the door so i wouldn't miss a word. my mom and dad's relationship was like a car accident, or scary movie to me. i so did not want to know what was going on. i knew i would be better off without hearing or seeing the details. Yet, it seemed i couldn't help myself. Like a little private eye, i was collecting all of the evidence and piecing together the whole sordid story.

you don't get to creep into the house at this hour without even an explanation. are you listening to me, you ungrateful bastard?

i heard another crash, like glass hurdled at a wall.

libby, stop it, please! that was my dad. back in his patient, calm voice, he continued...

i don't want to do this anymore. i can't pretend.

i cracked my bedroom door open to get a glimpse of my personal soap opera, The Old & Dramatic. my mother had resigned to the first step of stairs, sobbing uncontrollably. she really did look like an middle aged stunning soap star in her silky pink robe and pin curled hair. my father was still dressed in his slim suit and carrying his briefcase.

you're out of control, libby. i'll give you some time. i'll be back later this evening for my things.

asshole! was my mother's reply as dad disappeared down the narrow staircase and into his car. it had become clear to me about six months ago that my mom and dad had serious problems. as far as i could see, it started with a cloud of tension that would hang in the air like a threatening storm. but just like the unpredictable weather in the suburbs of philly, the sun would shine through as if there had never been a problem. it was easy to convince myself that nothing was wrong. that feeling was either in my imagination or was something all families dealt with on a bad day. later on, there would be major, gigantic fights over the dumbest, miniscule things. World War III could erupt from something as simple as why my dad was late picking me up from play practice. Or why my mom was calling his job when he told her he would be in an important meeting. These altercations would always lead to screaming at the top of parties involved's lungs for hours, lots of door slamming and dish throwing. Major Drama! The worst was yet to come, though. mr. preston, my social studies teacher, calls it the Cold War. this is when my parents refuse to speak to each other. not one word. if my mom needs my father to write out a check for something important, she will write it on a Post-It and hang it on the fridge. if my dad needs my mom to run some errand, he tells me to tell her. Until tonight, our status at home had been the Cold War era.

it was easy to deduct my mom suspects my father of cheating. i suspected the same. he was definitely different. it was like he was here but not here, if that makes any sense. at the same time, i could truly understand how dad might feel the need to flee from mom. on most days, i want to escape myself. she can be...well, overbearing. i think its because she doesn't have that much going on. she doesn't have that many friends anymore. she doesn't have a job either. mom says that she use to be an assistant for a very important man in showbiz. she says that dad was jealous so she gave it up to take care of us.

my mother ws still lamenting (i suppose) on the top of the staircase so i came out. i didn't know what to say, really. i hoped that by the time i got close to her i would have an answer but i didn't. she was sitting with her hand holding her head up in defeat but she tried to gather herself when she felt my presence.

oh, sherry...i didn't know you were up. i was just, i hope you didn't hear that.

not much, i said even though i had heard more than enough. of course, she realized this. my mom looked up at me as if she didn't recognize me, the real me her daughter. her eyes seemed to see something new but familiar to her.

he is such a jerk, sherry. she said quietly how did i end up marrying such a big jerk?

i didn't know. was dad a jerk? wasn't sure how i felt about that assumption. up to that point, i thought i felt all men who cheated were jerks. mom was crying silently, beautifully. drops of sorrow fell from her angled cheekbones. i shrugged.

i know he's an asshole but i don't want to give up. im way too tired to start over again, ya know?

i nodded although i knew she would always do fine, no matter what the circumstances.

mom turned to me with purpose.

sherry, never sacrifice who you are for any man. its NEVER worth it. her sapphire eyes grew wide with panic. promise me.

i shook my head but she didn't appear to be satisfied. i promise, mom.

ok, get back to bed, hon. you have school in a couple of hours.

i hugged my impossible mother, feeling actual sympathy for her. in bed, i closed my eyes knowing that i would be awakening not to a loud crash, but a new day, a new life.

dance lessons #108

Sometimes it takes more than once for me to learn a lesson. I feel that if I reason with someone and use logical explanations, said person will get it. I understand they may not quite agree with me but they will see my point at least. Well, apparently, that ain't the case. Especially with my mother. Its been four years of me reiterating that Im no ballerina. Yet, its been four years of me donning a leotard, slippers and oh so flattering white tights, twirling around Mrs. Meester's School of Dance. The most disgusting part is the bi-annual recitals we MUST put on in January and June. I've tried to compromise, asking Mom if I could at least take something more interesting, more me like hip-hop or reggae. She gave me her most condescending smile "No one needs to take a class like that, Nina" and continued sipping her skinny latte.
My mother doesn't know me at all. And the sad part is, she's not interested in knowing me; instead, she wants to create me like Im her own personal Frankenstein. We see how well that turned out. Actually, I've never really seen or read Frankenstein so Im guessing things went wrong. Im not into horror movies. Watching lunatics and zombies chase and then violently kill some teenagers. Not my thing; i'd rather choke on my own spit, which coincidentally, how i feel about going to ballet three times a week. Im like totally into hip-hop (and R&B). Give me some 50, give me some T.I or even some Mary and im happy. But of course, 'Mother' is not tryna hear it.
Today just happens to be June 5th, the day of my recital. its a beautiful friday and I just got out of school. The plan was for me to head to the dance studio and get in some stretches and a run through, head home for some homework and Mom would drive me to the recital tonight. But I can't. I just can't waste another day of my life on that garbage, especially not this gorgeous, sunny Friday full of possibilities. One being that Lucky (thats my crush, he is so f-ing hot) asked me what I was doing today afterschool. As I gathered my books at my locker, Lucky made his way over. He has that perfect, cool, relaxed walk that I love him for. "So whats up? We chillin'?" he asked. and whats a girl to do? I nodded my head (cooly, I hope) and said "Yeah." "Cool." he replied.