The Secret Ramblings of Harriet Hughes Part 3
I told Mom that I did not want to take a dance class. She said I was being silly. Dancing is apparently lots of fun if you let go of your inhibitions. I think Mom should stop stealing quotes from the hippy next door. Just imagine the sight: a dance class full of elegant swans doing perfect pirouettes and one flame-haired elephant dancing like an idiot! I will be the laughing stock of Madam Zangara’s School of Dance. I can just imagine that handsome host on Dancing with the Stars: “Next up, Harriet Hughes. She has no talent, she has no grace, she has no rhythm but she has heart”.
This is a recipe for disaster!
Monday. I have been dreading this day for the last week. I have very good reason to dislike this Monday. Today is the first day of school and the first dance lesson at Madam Zangara’s School of Dance. How much punishment can one girl take?
The day did not start out well. As luck would have it, I woke up late. Note to self: snoozing every five minutes for half an hour is not a good idea. I got dressed, pulled the orange, tangled mess on my head into a ponytail and brushed my teeth in record time. That’s when I saw it. A spot on my chin. Just my luck! All those girls in the spot cream adverts are constantly going on about how with just one wash, all your spots will be gone. This is nonsense. I am convinced that it is just one big conspiracy. Spot cream companies are making exactly that, spot cream— cream that gives you spots.
They are scamming innocent teens into an endless cycle of bad skin and horrible self-esteem. Note to self: stop using spot cream.
I found mom and Abigail waiting downstairs. They were tapping their feet impatiently. Mom wanted to know why I was never on time. She can really over exaggerate sometimes. Abigail was wearing a denim skirt, pink stripy tights and light pink top. She looked like one of the girls in a clothing store catalogue. I was wearing my boring jeans and a blue stripy top and by this time, my hair had taken on a life of its own. I looked like an ideal candidate for the TV show What Not to Wear.
School was a sea of faces, long classes and excited chatter as everyone got back to the grindstone. My new teacher is Mrs Jones, or The Dragon, as we like to call her. My two best friends, Alexa Martin and Olivia Penn, are also in my class. Thank goodness for that.
Alexa is super sweet. She has straight brown hair, cut into a perfect bob, with bangs that end just above her eyes. Most things about her are perfect, not just her hairstyle. Her smile is contagious and she plays the piano like Alicia Keys. We have been friends since the first grade. I am quite lucky to have met her in the first grade, when no one had been classified as cool or dorky yet. I am not really cool, but not nerdy or strange enough to fall into the dork category. I am decidedly average. Alexa is cool.
Olivia is funny, a real laugh-a-minute. She has brown, curly hair that hangs loosely around her shoulders. She is always laughing and I have never seen her in bad mood. Olivia is very feisty. She speaks her mind and stands up for herself. No one ever says anything bad about us because Olivia would never let them get away with it. It is nice to have a friend that always has your back.
Olivia went to France for the holidays and Alexa went on a ski trip to the Swiss Alps. My holiday was not nearly as exciting. We went on a family camping trip to the Happy Acres camping ground for a week. I have never seen Dad so excited. He bought every bit of camping gear he could find at the local outdoor store. It’s a pity that he forgot to pack the manuals. You would think an engineer could figure out how to pitch a tent in less than five hours. Mom was over the moon to be at one with nature. Abigail and I spent the week taking walks, fishing, rubbing lotion on insect bites, bathing in cold water and eating out of cans.
I wish my life was a little bit more exciting!
There is a new boy in our class; his name is Oliver Russell. He is the cutest boy I have ever seen. He is tall and athletic with dark brown hair that flops into his sea-blue eyes. He has a cheeky smile, and when he looks at you, it’s as if you have just shared a juicy secret. When I saw him, I immediately knew that Peter Williams (my fifth grade secret crush) had been dethroned.
Alexa and Olivia liked Oliver, too. In fact, I think it is safe to say every girl in school liked him (except for Sheena Spencer; she does not like boys). I told Olivia that if she married him one day, they should name their daughter Olive. She did not think my joke was very funny. “I have no intention of naming my child after a piece of fruit, or any other foodstuff for that matter,” she said indignantly. I pointed out that she would be following in the footsteps of Gwyneth Paltrow (as in movie star) and Jamie Oliver (as in celebrity chef). She was not amused.
After school, my mom picked us up in the ladybug and we drove off in the direction of Madam Zangara’s. Abigail had the latest CD of her favourite boy band blaring on the radio and Mom and Abigail were singing along at the top of their lungs. They are so embarrassing! We drove past Oliver and his mom; she drives an Audi. I tried to duck on the back seat but I was too late, he definitely saw me.
This day was turning out to be my worst nightmare!
This is a recipe for disaster!
Monday. I have been dreading this day for the last week. I have very good reason to dislike this Monday. Today is the first day of school and the first dance lesson at Madam Zangara’s School of Dance. How much punishment can one girl take?
The day did not start out well. As luck would have it, I woke up late. Note to self: snoozing every five minutes for half an hour is not a good idea. I got dressed, pulled the orange, tangled mess on my head into a ponytail and brushed my teeth in record time. That’s when I saw it. A spot on my chin. Just my luck! All those girls in the spot cream adverts are constantly going on about how with just one wash, all your spots will be gone. This is nonsense. I am convinced that it is just one big conspiracy. Spot cream companies are making exactly that, spot cream— cream that gives you spots.
They are scamming innocent teens into an endless cycle of bad skin and horrible self-esteem. Note to self: stop using spot cream.
I found mom and Abigail waiting downstairs. They were tapping their feet impatiently. Mom wanted to know why I was never on time. She can really over exaggerate sometimes. Abigail was wearing a denim skirt, pink stripy tights and light pink top. She looked like one of the girls in a clothing store catalogue. I was wearing my boring jeans and a blue stripy top and by this time, my hair had taken on a life of its own. I looked like an ideal candidate for the TV show What Not to Wear.
School was a sea of faces, long classes and excited chatter as everyone got back to the grindstone. My new teacher is Mrs Jones, or The Dragon, as we like to call her. My two best friends, Alexa Martin and Olivia Penn, are also in my class. Thank goodness for that.
Alexa is super sweet. She has straight brown hair, cut into a perfect bob, with bangs that end just above her eyes. Most things about her are perfect, not just her hairstyle. Her smile is contagious and she plays the piano like Alicia Keys. We have been friends since the first grade. I am quite lucky to have met her in the first grade, when no one had been classified as cool or dorky yet. I am not really cool, but not nerdy or strange enough to fall into the dork category. I am decidedly average. Alexa is cool.
Olivia is funny, a real laugh-a-minute. She has brown, curly hair that hangs loosely around her shoulders. She is always laughing and I have never seen her in bad mood. Olivia is very feisty. She speaks her mind and stands up for herself. No one ever says anything bad about us because Olivia would never let them get away with it. It is nice to have a friend that always has your back.
Olivia went to France for the holidays and Alexa went on a ski trip to the Swiss Alps. My holiday was not nearly as exciting. We went on a family camping trip to the Happy Acres camping ground for a week. I have never seen Dad so excited. He bought every bit of camping gear he could find at the local outdoor store. It’s a pity that he forgot to pack the manuals. You would think an engineer could figure out how to pitch a tent in less than five hours. Mom was over the moon to be at one with nature. Abigail and I spent the week taking walks, fishing, rubbing lotion on insect bites, bathing in cold water and eating out of cans.
I wish my life was a little bit more exciting!
There is a new boy in our class; his name is Oliver Russell. He is the cutest boy I have ever seen. He is tall and athletic with dark brown hair that flops into his sea-blue eyes. He has a cheeky smile, and when he looks at you, it’s as if you have just shared a juicy secret. When I saw him, I immediately knew that Peter Williams (my fifth grade secret crush) had been dethroned.
Alexa and Olivia liked Oliver, too. In fact, I think it is safe to say every girl in school liked him (except for Sheena Spencer; she does not like boys). I told Olivia that if she married him one day, they should name their daughter Olive. She did not think my joke was very funny. “I have no intention of naming my child after a piece of fruit, or any other foodstuff for that matter,” she said indignantly. I pointed out that she would be following in the footsteps of Gwyneth Paltrow (as in movie star) and Jamie Oliver (as in celebrity chef). She was not amused.
After school, my mom picked us up in the ladybug and we drove off in the direction of Madam Zangara’s. Abigail had the latest CD of her favourite boy band blaring on the radio and Mom and Abigail were singing along at the top of their lungs. They are so embarrassing! We drove past Oliver and his mom; she drives an Audi. I tried to duck on the back seat but I was too late, he definitely saw me.
This day was turning out to be my worst nightmare!
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