French:J’ai mal à la tête

Psychology II: I can’t believe I even bother taking notes in this class. I have lived this class.

Thursday, April 27, Jeffrey

Great.

J.P. saw us in the hallway heading out toward the limo and was all, “Where are you girls going, looking so happy?” and Lars went, before I could stop him, “Prom dress shopping.”

And then Lana and Tina and Shameeka and Trisha looked at J.P. expectantly with their eyebrows raised, like,Hello? Prom? Remember? Did you forget something? Would you like to ask your girlfriend to go with you?

I guess news travels fast. The part about J.P. not having asked me to the prom, I mean. Thanks, Tina!

Not that she doesn’t mean well.

Of course J.P. just smiled at us tolerantly and went, “Well, have fun, girls, Lars.” Then he kept walking toward the auditorium, where he was holding play rehearsal.

They were all totally flabbergasted—Lana and those guys, I mean. That he didn’t smack himself in the forehead and go, “D’oh! Prom! Of course!” Then drop to one knee and take my hands tenderly in his and ask me to forgive him for being a churlish lout and beg me to go with him.

But I told them they shouldn’t be so shocked. I don’t take it personally. J.P. can’t think aboutanything but his play,A Prince Among Men.

Which I totally understand, because when I was writing my book, I felt the same way. I couldn’t think aboutanything else. Every chance I got, I just curled up in bed with my laptop and with Fat Louie at my side (he proved to besuch an excellent writing cat) andwrote.

I mean, that’s why I didn’t keep up with my journal, or anything, not for almost two whole years. It’s hard, when you’re really concentrating on a creative project, to keep your mind on anything else.