chloe

4th grade... Mr. S's class. Every day after lunch we would get out our wide-ruled, off-white journals and write. Sometimes we were offered a subject, sometimes not. Either way it was all about freewriting, just getting your pencil going and using your mind. When time was up, people volunteered to share. I remember wanting to do so quite often, but it was 18 years ago and my recollection could be spotty. I do know that there was this kid- Brandon- one of the shorter boys, if not the shortest. (Or did that title go to Eric?) Brandon had dirty blond hair and is in my mind perpetually wearing a white t-shirt. Brandon was one of those children whose sinuses are always filled with snot, which lent to his voice a garbled quality not suitable for talent shows or television. Brandon always wanted to share after journaling, and he always wrote about the same thing- Spaceballs. I'm not even sure if I knew it was a movie at the time, but Brandon's readings always included a lot of PING-ing and POW-ing and heavy usage of the word "spaceballs." It seemed to me that he said that particular word about four times louder than any other word. I can feel myself inwardly rolling my eyes as I imagine Brandon's plump, freckled arm dancing in the air, a prelude to a verbal glimpse into the mind of a lonely, movie-obsessed boy.
My mom and I recently found a couple of my old journals from 4th grade. I felt embarrassed for my child-self, having imagined her far more clever and creative than the evidence presented. I couldn't believe how many of my journals were about J.- the blue eyed princess of the class who bestowed upon me just enough sweet attention to leave me wanting more and willing to do just about anything to get it. I wonder now if that attraction was my first real girl crush and a peek into my future sexuality, or simply just one of the many times I have felt not quite good enough.