So Brent and I broke up. Big duh, considering how I was with Scott the Lifeguard in Sea City, but--it's a larger thing. Boys have always wanted me. Why wouldn't they? I'm relatively hot, I've got great hair, and I dress better than almost anyone in the district. I might not be the sweetest or the most charming or the smartest, but most guys don't much look that far below the surface at first, which is both good and bad, and for all of my bitching about not being taken seriously...yeah, that's hypocritical of me to like how boys can be superficial, but whatever. It makes me complex! Right?

Anyway, my point is, guys always want me, and when they do, it's like a drug. I just get addicted to their attention, and I get all strung out and bitchy or selfish and hoggy for it. I said some shit things to the girls this week, but they were right--this isn't the first time I've become Boy Crazy Stacey, who dumps her girlfriends in a heartbeat. And as much as I'd like to sit here and pretend I've learned my lesson...come on, I'll do it again.

I don't do drugs. I don't get wasted every weekend. I'm nice to little kids and old people. I'm loyal to my friends, even Kristy who is socially seven miles underneath me and Anna who goes to another school and MA who knits on the beach. In the scheme of things, is it really such a sin that I get a little blind when a boy drools my way?

Just...next time, the lesson is, pick a guy that really likes me back, not somebody who's just using me for ass, like Scott.

So Prom was a massive, huge, gigundo success: people are still hung up on it, and it's how many days after? After the shit Sheila put me through, yeah, I totally needed this. And I don't know, there's this part of me that thrives on being more than what people think I am. Oh, I'm just some New York snob...so I baby-sit and really do great things with kids. Oh, I'm just some prissy popular girl...so I stay on the stupid nerdastic Mathletes. Oh, I'm just a party girl...so I rock the hell out of Prom. Maybe it's because I'm so "boy crazy," I like showing people that I sure as hell don't have shit for brains. Maybe that makes me a brat, but I don't care. I like it.

And I like Brent. I luv Brent, I do, and sleeping with him at Afterprom was amazing and perfect. It was just right for our first time. And he says he luvs me, and I told him that I luv him, but--I mean, I'm Group now. And I'm going to New York all summer, and he's going to tennis camp all summer, and...I don't know. Maybe luv's got nothing to do with it. We'll see.

I mean, really: isn't summer the real time for Boy Crazy Stacey to shine?

Treasurer
Pro
♥ Money!
♥ Telling people what to do with money!
♥ It's math. Rock.
♥ It's basically what I do at Mom's boutique's books, but on a smaller scale
Con
♥ It's basically what I do at Mom's, but without pay and on a smaller scale
♥ What will impress colleges more? "ASG Treasurer" or "Worked as Accountant"?
♥ Isn't this a total BSC flashback?

Homecoming Chair
Pro
♥ Hello, if I can do Prom, I can so do Homecoming
♥ I like school spirit-y stuff
♥ If I'm still dating Brent, he's on the football team, so it'll be extra fun
♥ Ditto on if I try out for cheerleading again and make the squad
♥ It might help me be Homecoming Queen, if everybody knows I'm the girl behind it
Con
♥ It's potentially two people? After the BULLSHIT that Sheila's been pulling on me? I don't know if I can work as a team with someone who sucks.
♥ Brent and I might break up badly, and I might want to shoot him instead of doing nice things for him.
♥ Ditto if I don't make cheerleading

But. It might help me become Homecoming Queen. Hmm.

Lemme see if I can't find someone to run with. Speaking of: I guess I'm the one who gets to pick the appetizers at Prom. Thanks, Sheila. Remind me to call Corinne tonight and rant about how much Sheila MacAlcoholic sucks my ass. Bitch.

So Laine punched Andi. Well: "punched," the only thing I think Laine really knows how to punch are the buttons at an ATM. But brava, way to smack at the girl who got beaten up by her boyfriend. For all of her sophisticated talk, Laine's...pretty trashy a lot of times. Thankfully I'm around to keep the sophisticate bar raised high. Man. But I mean...bros over hos, I'm on Laine's side to a point. And this point matters, since I've been cheated on not once but twice, though the thing with Pierre and his Vermont hussy isn't exactly the same.

Laine can be pissed at Andi all she wants: I don't doubt she was snide, Andi totally has that side to her. And Andi Gentile has a history of going after guys in relationships--she's kinda shady that way, but at this point, she's just kinda of pathetic overall with guys, and we all know it. Whatever. Here's what's bugging me: Andi went after Robert and Andi went after Pete...why are we so pissed at her? She's a bit of a ho like that, but the real assholes are Robert and Pete, hands down. Robert and Pete were in relationships and they cheated. They didn't have the guts to break up with us when they had feelings for another girl, nor did they have the ability to reign their sex drives in to not cheat. Robert didn't play the martyr card like Pete does, which makes me glad that we don't talk anymore, Pete's kinda slimy and self-righteous--which, actually, helps me get why Laine had a thing for him. Had. Has. Whatever. She's kind of attracted to douchebags, and Pete's kinda douchey anymore, so...

And Robert. Robert who I just will never understand anymore. Robert really hurt me, and what have I done? Made out with him again. I mean, what?! I told myself that I was just having fun, but a little bit of me justifies it by saying that Robert hurt me once upon a time not because of him but because of her. What is with us girls when we do that? Why do we go back to guys who hurt us so bad? Because they've changed? Because love conquers all?

I went back to Pierre after he hurt me, twice. And for the first time in a long time, I doubted myself when he broke my heart that third time. He made me feel bad about myself, that raging douchebaggy fucker, he made me feel bad about me--I was flirting with Dave Reporter, I mean...what?! Boys cheat and boys lie and instead of kicking them to the curb and getting a fresh new piece of awesome, we pick them up and dust them off for a second and let them back inside. Like a feral cat.

All I know is? With Brent? If he cheats on me. If he lies to me. If he pulls any shit?

I won't just dump him: I'll send Laine to knock him out.

I think back to when I almost became a cheerleader. The lesson I learned when I close the cover on that chapter is that popularity has its dark side: the seedy underbelly of academic favors, the total bitchiness of Girl World. I stood up for my principles, and I ended the day with a great boyfriend and my real friends behind me, blah blah.

What would have happened if I had made the team? If Corinne hadn't been all pissed that Robert liked me? I would have made the team--I was already getting along great with Sheila and some of the other girls...

I would have been a cheerleader, who are we kidding. I would never have let Jason Fox breathe on my homework, I probably wouldn't have cut class...I think...I wouldn't have been a superbitch like Corinne, but come on, I'm not Mary Anne, I'm not going to be friends with everybody because not everybody can dress, you know? I probably would have left the BSC when Logan and Abby did, I probably would have drifted from them. Except for Claudia, but Claudia's always been different. Maybe I would have gotten close again to Mary Anne, when she got back with Logan. And I'd go to the same parties as Abby, though I'd probably avoid her when she was being weird. But I wouldn't be having coffee with Kristy or caring about what Dawn was up to. And in that respect, I'm cool with how everything worked out.

But I feel like I've been hovering in this weird limbo since we got to high school, like I haven't being Popular just because. Like I have some weird loyalty to my eighth grade self and her Big Stand for Equality. I didn't much care about that shit when I tried to make over Tess (which--whatever, she should be thanking me for trying) or with the whole Jeremy bullshit. I feel like I've been feeling like hotter shit than I actually am: I'm not a Group member. If I go to their parties, it's because they aren't Group exclusive--or because I flirt myself an invite from like...Todd Long or Loag asks me along. And I'm kinda tired of that. I want on the guest list, always. I'm tired of hanging.

Maybe it isn't eighth grade me whose all judgy? It's BSC me. But the BSC is long and dead, all hail the BSC, so why do I care about the morals we preached from inside Claudia's bedroom? We weren't always right. Sometimes, we were dead wrong, cliquey, and pretty damn judgmental ourselves. I'm not the same girl I was then: I know that there are a lot more sophisticated colors than black and white, thanks, and I stopped perming my hair long ago.

No: maybe I am the same girl, the girl who wanted to be a cheerleader, who tried to leave the club but slunk back when she was once burned. I want to be popular, finally. I'm not going to be twice shy if a chance comes my way again.

Not to pat myself on the back for too long (especially since the ASG people are way too quick to remind the class chairs that they were in charge, the killjoys), but Valentine's Day was a massive success! The seniors beat the juniors in total sales, but...they have more students than us, duh? But we had the highest gross per student, though nobody would listen to me when I calculated that.

I don't know. In all of my moping, I guess I forgot how much I really miss being...active again. We did so much back in middle school, I gave myself ninth grade to chill out a little, and then I got so wrapped up in Pierre, I think I forgot how much I can really do.

And from the amount of white carnations I got? How many boys are really out there! Ethan offered to take me to the dance tonight, but really, I think I want to go on my own, see what happens. Or--actually, who. I mean, maybe a reporter will sweep me off my feet? He did give me a rose...

Funny how much can change in a year. Last year my resolutions were to be more tolerant of Sam - which I definitely am, especially since Christian was born. (We won't include the spring when I wasn't speaking to her or my father. Time heals all wounds!) And I also said that I wouldn't complain about helping Mom at the store, which I haven't out loud.

My other "resolution" was to get a boyfriend. And I did, and he was amazing. I fell in love, and I had my heart broken. And I'm back in the same place where I was last year, when I made those resolutions.

I'm not going to make a resolution this year. I'm just going to let things happen.

I'm a little sad that Midsummer Night's Dream is over, I had tons of fun working on it, and it went very well. It's nice to say that all my friends and family came to see me - Dad and Sam even brought Christian to the show today!

The only person I didn't see in the audience was Pierre. I guess it really is over. And so I don't feel bad about giving Cary Retlin his keys.

It's hard to believe that when I first found out that Sam was pregnant, I didn't want a baby. Heck, even before she was pregnant, when they moved into the new apartment, and I figured the third bedroom wouldn't always be an office.

But even after my all-too brief time with Christian today, I'm sorry for ever thinking those thoughts. It's funny how even after just knowing him a few hours, I love him more than I ever thought could be possible. I have a baby brother!!

And, despite finding out about him on my sixteenth birthday, despite the silent treatment I gave my father, despite every negative thought I've had about becoming a big sister - I wouldn't change anything.

I love you, Christian!! ♥♥♥

What does it mean that Mom has a picture of T-JAM in her wallet? I mean, I like Drew and all, but isn't it too early to have photos of HIS SON in her wallet? Jeez, he'll probably end up stealing it before the year's over, anyway.

And does that mean thar he wasn't lying on the boards and that Drew has a picture of ME in his wallet? Oh my lord, how embarassing.

It's strange to say it, but in a way, I'm glad that we got stranded. Nevermind the fear, Logan gettng sick, and all the other worries. I don't want to relive that. No, I'm glad because I saw that when I go to college, Mom will be fine without me. Drew will be there for her. I think my being missing brought them closer together - obviously, since she spent all her time at his place!

Drew's good for Mom, and I'm happy that they're happy. If only he didn't come with a delinquent son.

Pierre's back in Stoneybrook. I have no idea how long he's been back, or who he's talked to - but he's here. I saw him tonight. And he still hasn't spoken to me. I could make excuses when he was in Paris, but I saw the look on his face. He got my voicemail, and he has nothing to say to me.

I guess it really is over.

There are two scenarios. One of them has definitely happened to me at Camp Mohawk.

Scenario number one involves one of my best friends breaking the girl code and going after one of my exes. After he and I tried it again. And not long after he "dumped" me (if you can call it getting dumped when you weren't even dating?) via email.

And number two involves another of my best friends making up a lie about the first best friend, possibly as a way to be my only best friend.

I don't know what to think. I don't know what to believe. I don't want to think bad things about either Rachel or Claudia, but one of these things is the truth. And I don't even know which one I hope it is.

But, if I learned anything from whatever happened with Pierre (aside from the fact that OH MY LORD I miss him and it should NEVER have happened) is that things can get out of hand quickly. So I will deal with this calmly and rationally, and I will go straight to the source as soon as she gets back from camp.

Mom just got out of the shower, and Rach is digging through my makeup bag. Mom's leaving for her date with Officer Drew in half an hour, and she is going to look HOT.

I just can't believe she almost blew it, waiting so long to call him. I mean, I'm touched that she wanted to wait until I got home from Utah, but you can't wait over a week to call a guy! That shows that you're not interested!

That's how I know that RJ's not interested - it's been two weeks, and I haven't heard from him. Although that might be a good thing. Did he really think that I would want to go fishing? UGH.

But that's okay. Yes, I had fun with RJ, but there were no sparks. As much as I hate to say it - he wasn't Pierre. He didn't comment on my clothes (he said I looked good, which was a nice gesture, but such an empty compliment.) He only talked about himself and sports. And the movie was something that I'd take Char to.

But I guess that's the "joy" of being single. You've gotta kiss a lot of frogs before you meet your prince, right? And you have to suffer the consequences when you send your price back to the pond. Sigh.

In the meantime, though, it's Mom's time to shine. And I'm happy for her, she seems really excited - I can hear her singing right now. She deserves this. She's barely dated since the divorce, and since I'm at a lull in the romance department, I think her turn is overdue.

Perspective is a funny thing. I thought my life was the most terrible one ever. I haven't spoken to my father in almost two months, I found out that Pierre was nothing but a liar, I have diabetes.. I mean, the last couple months, my life has been one big sob story.

But when one of your oldest friends tries to -- well, I know what she did, and I doubt I'll ever forget, so I don't need to write it down. It's been on my mind ever since Logan told me about it. I mean, here I am, wallowing in self-pity, but I never though, I could never.. Things have never been so bad that I wanted it all to end.

Mary Anne was one of my biggest worries, and she's getting the help she desperately needed. I've given Pierre back all his stuff, so there's no need to dwell on that anymore - it sucks, it hurts, and I miss him.. but sometimes things have to end. (Especially when he turns out to be nothing but a liar. That's not good for my mental well-being.) I actually got a decent sleep last night, and though I forgot to check my blood sugar yesterday (it's the first time that's ever happened, so I'm not worried.) I feel fine.

Now, it seems like the only unresolved problem is Dad. And by the end of the day, I won't let that be unresolved any more.

I feel so helpless, like there's nothing in my life that I can control. Maybe on their own I'd be able to deal, but it's just like they're all heaping on me at once, suffocating me.

( Uncontrollable. )

All these things are constantly pressing on my brain, and I'm lucky if I wrangle an hour of sleep a night, I'm not even lying. Yet I'm still running late in the morning and only manage to choke down fruit on my run to school, I'm skipping lunch so I can nap in a cubicle at the back of the library. Needless to say, my blood sugar has been low the last couple days. Oh, and I failed a math test on Friday (who gets 38 in an honours class?!) because I could barely keep my eyes open. I get a retest on Wednesday, but I don't know if I'll do much better.

I just don't know what to do.

Things learned this weekend:

♥ Alcohol does not make problems go away. If anything, it only adds to it, because you spend your entire weekend nursing the hangover from hell. I swear, my head is still pounding, and I am not looking forward to going to school tomorrow and being reminded how insane I was. Ugh. And look at that, Samantha is still pregnant. Yep, no help at all.

♥ I have the sweetest boyfriend ever, and I love him. But I already knew that.

♥ My best friend also rocks. Then again, pretty much all my friends rock.

♥ I can't trust my drunk self around ex-boyfriends. But we can pretend not to remember that.

There is no such thing as fate, or destiny, kismet, any of that. We should have just accepted it when we stopped writing letters in eighth grade. It was like we saw into the future, and knew that it wasn't meant to be.

How am I going to go to school tomorrow? How do I tell my friends "guess what, he wasn't as perfect for me as we all thought!" How will I ever be able to look at him again?

Our last kiss was Monday evening. The worst part is I can still feel his lips on mine.

One and a half million people in Manhattan, yet I still chickened out of going there for the long weekend. I mean, it would have been the easiest thing to avoid seeing Ethan, but just the thought of being in the same city as him sucks.

Seriously, why did he have to go and do that now? Or at all, for that matter? I thought we were doing just fine being friends. Yes, there were a few make-out sessions here and there, but that was the way we were. It wasn't anything serious, or anything that could ruin our friendship.

And as terrible as it is to say, I wouldn't want to change things. If Ethan had said this even two months ago, things would be completely different, and I probably wouldn't be so involved with Pierre. And I never want that to change.

So Ethan, your timing sucks, but thank you for it. (Though I still stand by wondering why he had to do it at all. Ugh.)

Besides, staying home from New York this weekend meant more time with Pierre. And there is nothing wrong with that.

Tonight I dug out the box that I stuffed all my middle-school memories into. And there, amongst the Baby-sitters Club fliers and vacation postcards, was the photo I was looking for. It's from our last night at Leicester Lodge, at the dance, and Pierre and I are standing in front of the refreshments table. He has his arm around me, and I'm resting my head on his shoulder. And you know how body language says everything? You can tell by this pic - and by our smiles - that Pierre and I were totally into each other.

But of course we were. I had gone out with a few guys before him, to school dances and to the movies and stuff. And I'd already kissed a few boys. Yet, there was something special between me and him. I could talk to him like I could talk to my best friends, and vice versa. And we both wondered if what we were feeling was love. It was exciting, new, and a little scary. We only knew each other for less than a week, yet it was a very long time before I stopped thinking about him daily.

I thought I loved Robert, but I think that was more the thrill of my first super-serious boyfriend. We never told each other how we felt, and even though it hurt when we broke up, that was more because I felt betrayed and embarassed.

I do - did? - love Ethan. And if school, and his art, and the fact that we live in practically two different worlds wasn't in the way, maybe we'd be more than summertime romances, random hookups, whatever. He is still one of my closest friends, and my best New York friend. Yet, even though I'm attracted to him, I have the feeling we're just not meant to be. It might have been love at first, but it's evolved into a different kind.

And then there's Pierre. Again. It's been a week since I first saw him (for the second time), and it seems like I feel the exact same way now as I did then. I love seeing him first thing in the morning, waiting for me at the front door with his brother and sister. I love seeing him in the halls, I love sitting with him at lunch. And I find any excuse to touch his arm, or stroke his hair - not that I need an excuse. We're always holding hands, or standing shoulder-to-shoulder. I mean, this is flirting!! and it's thrilling, and I am just DYING, waiting for the perfect opportunity to kiss him. (School just doesn't seem romantic enough.)

I mean, hell, I took a pic of us with my camera phone on Friday, and he's got his arm around me, and I'm resting my head on his shoulder.. I just hope that he's around a lot longer than a week this time.