December 11, 1981

Another character sketch. I think the good thing is when I go back and read these, they don't make me cringe. In fact, I can imagine them within the pages of a novel written for teens... sort of. I do sort of wonder what my mindset was at the time though. Hmmm...

Grade: 20-20

Vanessa held out her hand.

"Give me the money now, Daddy. You owe me $100 for this month's allowance."

"Vanessa dear, I'm not going to give all of it to you right now. I think you should put some of it into the bank."

"But Daddy," she whined, "I need it to buy a new outfit. I haven't been shopping for a whole week. Please..."

"You know I don't like doing this, but this is the last time I'll do this. And this time I mean it!"

Vanessa's icy blue eyes gleamed in the light. "Thank you Daddy."

She flipped her long black hair and laughed as she walked out of the room. "He falls for it every time," she thought to herself.

Vanessa stopped and looked herself in the full-length mirror. She began practicing modeling poses.

"Oh, you're so wonderful!" she said to her reflection, as she watched her tall slender body strut back and forth in front of the mirror. She held the money over her face.

"You look so well in green, dahling," she cackled at the mirror.

"Vanessa! Are you talking to me?"

"No Daddy, you must be imagining things," she replied sweetly.

Vanessa ran upstairs to her bedroom.

"Gretchen!" she called, "where are you? I'm going shopping and I want you to get some clothes out for me while I take a bath."

"But Miss-"

"Don't 'but Miss' me! I want you to do it now!" Vanessa yelled.

"Yes Miss."

Vanessa took her bath, and then proceeded to get dressed. Once she was all bundled up and ready to go, she went downstairs to get the keys from her father.

"Oh Daddy dear," she cooed, "could I p-leeese have the keys to the Caddy?"

"Is it absolutely necessary? I was thinking about using the car today."

Vanessa held her hands behind her back and looked at the floor. She kicked a piece of lint that floated by.

"Well, I was gonna get your Christmas present for you today," she sniffled.

Her father gave in, as usual.

"I guess it is o.k. But this is the last time."

"Gee Daddy, if we had another car we wouldn't have this problem. Maybe we should get a car for me!" exclaimed Vanessa.

"No, I don't think we need one. We can get along fine with what we have."

"But just think Daddy! If we had another car, you could use the car whenever you wanted to, and so could I!"

"You do have a point there. I suppose tomorrow we can go look for cars."

"Oh thank you Daddy! I want a Corvette!"

"Whatever dear."

Vanessa grabbed the keys and skipped towards the door. She stopped at the mirror and looked at the smirk on her face.

"You're so great!" she said to her reflection, "you burn him every time, you little con artist. But hey - life's tough."

Vanessa walked out the door with huge grin of satisfaction on her face. She thought to herself, "today Vanessa conquers her father - tomorrow she takes over the world!"



Well then. I don't recall having any particular issues with my father when I was younger. I always got pretty much everything I wanted, within reason. There was that one sweater though, that I REALLY wanted and didn't get. It was white, with a wide turquoise stripe across the chest... When my parents decided they would buy it for me, we went back to the store and it was gone. Harumph! I really wanted THAT sweater!

December 8, 1981

This is the first of my writing entries from... 11th grade. Had to calculate on my fingers there for a minute. Funny thing is, I don't even remember taking a creative writing class, but it seems that I did. I got some pretty good grades on most of the stuff, but in my opinion the poetry is pretty bad. I've never read much poetry, and I didn't craft very good poetry either. I may post a couple. But most of the stuff will be other assignments. This one appears to be a character sketch...

Grade: 16-15 (cool, an extra point!)


Glancing over her shoulder, Patsy Paranoia spotted a man rounding the corner from which she had just come. He was following her, and he had been for the last three blocks. She just knew it. She pulled on the hood of her grey wool coat and quickened her pace. As she got to the corner and waited for the light to change, her grey eyes darted quickly in every direction. All those people - every single one was looking at her. Patsy looked down to see if something was wrong with her clothing. Her grey loafers looked fine, and she couldn't find a wrinkle in her grey cotton dress. She pulled her pocket-mirror out of her grey leather purse. She looked, only to find that her face was slightly paler than usual, and a few strands of her mousy brown hair were sticking out from under her hood. It seemed like forever before the light turned green. She hurriedly crossed the street. Only one block left, but she still had that dreadful alley to pass. She looked behind her once again and the man was gone. Good. But yards away - a gun! There was somebody in the alley with a gun. She began to run. Patsy was sure she could hear footsteps running after her as she reached the steps leading to the door of her apartment building. She prayed nobody would reach up through the steps and grab her feet - please, not today. Finally, she was inside the building, and running towards the stairs to her second story flat. She was too scared to look behind her, so she just kept running up, up the steps and down the hall towards her flat. She fumbled through her purse, trying to find her key. She just knew her pursuer was almost to the top of the steps. At last she found her key, opened the door, and slammed it behind her. She bolted the lock quickly and breathed a sigh of relief. The only sound she could hear was the sound of her heart pumping in her chest. Patsy had made it home safely once again, and nobody had gotten her this time.