1995 — NINE
Dear Eve,
Even though I wont get in trouble I’m shaking to
Or will I
Please don’t bring up my name OK
Well I don’t know what we’re gonna do Wheres
Bobbi Sue.
Why hasn’t she been in the hall is she gonna get
kick out I hope not
Well this shit is really getting to me
Mr. Capasuto’s gonna chew my ear out tomarrow
Saying that it is my doll and shit
What if they ask you’r
Parents if it’s your doll
And they recognize it
What the hell will happen then
luv ya
C.S.S.
Our Satanic troll mascot got us busted. This is the story that Bobbie Sue, who was in possesion of the doll at the time, gave me: In class, she had left Beelzebub on her desk unattended while she went to get a book. The teacher, Mr. Capasuto, randomly went to look at the doll and tried to make its eyes light up by squeezing the belly. He quickly realized that the eyes were not flashing and assumed faulty batteries. He turned the doll over to check the battery pack and discovered (less than a nickel bag of) marijuana. When he held it up in front of Bobbie Sue, she told him the doll didn’t belong to her.
Right after Cadence passed me this note in French class at the end of the day, I got called down to the main office. I can’t remember now if the principal himself came to get me, if a paraprofessional came, if a cop showed up outside my classroom, if my name was called over the PA or what. I just remember being led into the principals office and that the door seemed to magically shut by itself behind me. My parents were there, as well as a cop. They interrogated me until after school let out for the day.
They really threw me for a loop by first bringing out one of mine and Jackie’s notebooks (that [lots of]other people had contributed to as well). We had let Primo borrow it while he was in rehab to keep him company. He had managed to lose it upon his return and it fell into the wrong hands. (Note: the rehab didn’t work.) It was filled, filllllled, with offensive poetry, from limerick to haiku, about sex, race, death, suicide, murder, drugs, alcohol - things that would make any parent want to send their kid to military school or a convent. Amazing as she is, my mother to this day still has that notebook somewhere because she actually thought the offending material was funny. Anyway. The school officials freaked out at the books content, and made me feel pretty ashamed of myself. But what could they do besides lecture me? This was five years before Columbine; today if school administrators came upon a notebook like that, well, I would feel very sorry for the kid who misplaced it, regardless of his intentions.
At one point, the principal shouted out to my parents, “How could you deny she’s a drug addict? She has pot leaves drawn all over her books and clothes!” Immediately I jumped to my own defense at his claim. The ‘pot leaves’ he was refering to were these many-petaled flowers I used to draw all over everything. My parents came to my aid as well, telling him, no, thats not really what a pot leaf looks like. And I smirked at his cluelessness as I was redeemed for not being stupid enough to put pot symbols all over my style of dress and school notebooks. However, I was stupid enough to get caught with a miniscule amount of pot encased in a satanic troll doll, and in a Drug-Free school zone to top it all off.
Here is a poem I wrote about it at the time:
I had a troll once
Come back Bezelbub!
She held my most valuable
tresure inside
my most beautiful
possision
I lost her to a nasty
warthog
In a everlasting battle
my own kin was destroyed
and nobody cared
Inside my troll was a
Glorrius treat
A Hairy Pig
took it away
With it I lost my Friends
my heart
and my high
never to be seen again
only to be used as evedence
In a court of law
Sometime in the near future
Oh God
I miss my troll
I was so pissed at Bobbie Sue for ratting me out. I don’t even think that was my pot in the doll to begin with. It didn’t matter though, my parents knew the doll was mine, and I took full responsibility for it. It was such a small amount, and I was under the age of 16 so no charges would be filed anyway, but I was suspended from school until the end of the year, and banned from The Eighth Grade Dinner Dance. There wasn’t much time left till graduation, so I wasn’t missing much, but it felt like my little world crashed around me. I was told I would be taking all my final exams from the principals office, and only after school hours. When I left school that afternoon, I saw Valerie and Cailean Mullen in the girls room right by the main office. They looked at me, but didn’t say a thing, nor look too friendly.
I could have passed blame onto Jackie or Cadence, or even the original rat, Bobbie Sue, but I wouldn’t have done that to my friends. I wanted to, to take some heat off myself, but I didn’t. Still, no one talked to me for a while after that, and not just because I wasn’t in school. I don’t know for how long my phone privledges were taken away for but I feel like it didn’t ring for a while after they were given back. It must have been less than two weeks from when I had gotten kicked out to graduation day. The big Moving Up Ceremony. I didn’t plan on attending, after being kind of crushed about not being allowed to attend the dance as I loved dressing up. And then I remember being told I could go. After not seeing my friends for so long, I didn’t know what to expect. In my blown-up and overexagerated perception of teenage drama, I think I felt like I would never have any friends ever again, and to await a beat-down from everyone in the back parking lot afterwards.
Our graduation was held in the high school auditorium. Not our first time in the high school, but our last time as junior high students. All of us were to gather in the cafeteria and get into our homeroom groups. Before roll call, while we were all milling about, I saw several girls I knew in the rear, emptier area, huddled around a desk. I walked toward them reluctantly. They looked up at me as I approached, and all scattered save for Jackie and Cadence. Jackie’s make-up bag was opened up on the desktop. She was applying silver Crayola glitter glue to Cadence’s eyelids. “You want some glitter?” she asked, holding the little squeeze bottle toward me, and that was it. I knew we were all best friends forever and nothing would ever change that in the whole great big wide world. Also I was blown away by her resourcefulness with the glitter glue. I know now they were wearing glitter everywhere in the 70s and 80s but at that moment when she offered me some, I was thinking here she had gone and invented a revolutionary cosmetics technique all by her little brilliant self. After that, the three of us started to be the girls wearing the silver glitter on our eyes and cheekbones. A year or so later is when the whole glitter body and face makeup really took off but by then we were over it! That whole time we were putting craft glue on our faces - we’re lucky it was non-toxic. Seeing as we were girls who had snorted crushed smarties off their cafeteria table after spreading out halloween candy bounty at lunchtime, we were never too careful with what we put in or on our bodies. To say the least.
