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And then Michael said he would clone Kurt Cobain, because he was a musical genius who died too young. And then he asked me who I would clone, and I couldn’t think of anyone, because there really isn’t anyone dead that I would want to bring back, except maybe Grandpère, but how creepy would that be? And Grandmère would probably freak. So I just said Fat Louie, because I love Fat Louie and wouldn’t mind having two of him around.
Only nobody looked very impressed by this except for Michael who said, “That’s nice,” which he probably only said because he is my boyfriend.
But whatever, I could deal with that. I am totally used to being the only person I know who sits through Empire Records every time it comes on TBS and who thinks it is one of the best movies ever made—after Star Wars and Dirty Dancing and Say Anything and Pretty Woman , of course. Oh, and Tremors and Twister .
I am content to keep the fact that I must watch the Miss America Pageant every single year without fail secret, even though I know it is degrading to women and not a scholarship fund, considering no one bigger than a size ten ever gets into it.
I mean, I know these things about myself. It is just the way I am, and though I have tried to improve myself by watching award-winning movies such as Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Gladiator , I don’t know, I just don’t like them. Everybody dies at the end and besides if there is not dancing or explosions, it is very hard for me to pay attention.
So okay, I am trying to accept these things about myself. They are just the way I am. Like, I am good at English class and not so good at Algebra. Whatever.
But it wasn’t until we got to Gifted and Talented today, after lunch, and Lilly started working on the shot list for this week’s episode of her cable access show, Lilly Tells It Like It Is , and Boris got out his violin and started playing a concerto (sadly, not in the supply closet because they still haven’t put the door back on it), and Michael put on headphones and started working on a new song for his band, that it finally hit me:
There is not one thing that I am particularly good at. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that I am a princess, I would be the most ordinary person alive. It is not even that I can’t surf, or weave a friendship bracelet. I can’t do anything .
I mean, all my friends have these incredible things they can do: Lilly knows everything there is to know and isn’t shy about saying it in front of a camera. Michael can not only play guitar and, like, fifty other instruments including the piano and drums, but he can also design whole computer programs. Boris has been playing his violin at sold-out Carnegie Hall concerts since he was, like, eleven years old, or something. Tina Hakim Baba can read, like, a book a day, and retain what she’s read and quote it back practically verbatim, and Ling Su is an extremely talented artist. The only person at our lunch table besides me who has no discernible special gift is Shameeka, and that made me feel better for about a minute, before I remembered that Shameeka is totally smart and beautiful and gets straight As and people who work at modeling agencies are always coming up to her in, like, Bloomingdale’s when she is shopping with her mom and asking her to let them represent her (even though Shameeka’s dad says over his dead body will any daughter of his be a model).
But me? I do not know why Michael even likes me, I am so talentless and boring. I mean, I guess it’s a good thing my destiny as the monarch of a nation is sealed, because if I had to go apply for a job somewhere, I so fully wouldn’t get it, because I’m not good at anything.
So here I am, sitting in Gifted and Talented, and there really is no getting around this basic fact:
I, Mia Thermopolis, am neither gifted nor talented.
WHAT AM I DOING IN HERE????? I DO NOT BELONG HERE!!!! I BELONG IN TECH ED!!!! OR DOMESTIC ARTS!!!!! I SHOULD BE MAKING A BIRDHOUSE OR A PIE!!!!
Just as I was writing this, Lilly leaned over and went, “Oh, my God, what is wrong with you? You look like you just ate a sock,” which is what we say whenever someone looks super depressed, because that is how Fat Louie always looks whenever he accidentally eats one of my socks and has to go to the vet to have it surgically removed.
Fortunately Michael didn’t hear her on account of having his headphones on. I would never have been able to confess in front of him what I confessed then to his sister, which is that I am a big talentless phony because then he would know I am nothing like Kate Bosworth and dump me.
“And they only put me in this class in the first place because I was flunking Algebra,” I told her.
Then Lilly said the most surprising thing. Without batting an eye, she went, “You have a talent.”
I stared at her, my own eyes wide and, I am afraid, filled with tears. “Oh, yeah, what?” I was really scared I was going to cry. It really must be PMS or something, because I was practically getting ready to start bawling.
But to my disappointment, all Lilly said was, “Well, if you can’t figure it out, I’m not going to tell you.” When I protested this, she went: “Part of the journey of achieving self-actualization is that you have to reach it on your own, without help or guidance from others. Otherwise, you won’t feel as keen a sense of accomplishment. But it’s staring you in the face.”
I looked around, but I couldn’t figure out what she was talking about. There was nothing staring me in the face that I could see. No one was looking at me at all. Boris was busy scraping away with his bow, and Michael was fingering his keyboard furiously (and silently), but that was about it. Everyone else was bent over their Kaplan review books or doodling or making sculptures out of Vaseline or whatever.
I still have no idea what Lilly is talking about. There is nothing I am talented at—except maybe telling a fish fork apart from a dinner one.
I can’t believe that all I thought I needed in order to achieve self-actualization was the love of the man to whom I have pledged my heart. Knowing Michael loves me—or at least really likes me—just makes it all worse. Because his incredible talentedness makes the fact that I am not good at anything even more obvious.
I wish I could go to the nurse’s office and take a nap. But they won’t let you do that unless you have a temperature, and I’m pretty sure all I have is jet lag.
I knew it was going to be a bad day. If I had had on my Queen Amidala underwear, I never would have come face-to-face with the truth about myself.
Tuesday, January 20, World Civ
I will never invent anything, either of benefit or cost to any society, because I am a talentless reject. I couldn’t even get the country I will oneday rule to install PARKING METERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HOMEWORK
Algebra: probs at beginning of Chapter 11 (no review session, Mr. G has mtgs—also, just started Inventor Invention Benefits to Society Cost to Society semester, so nothing to review yet. Also, not flunking anymore!!!!!!)
English: update journal (How I Spent My Winter Break—500 words)
