Dear Diary (I wanted to write dear Diarrhea but mom said no, Jimmy),
This is my first diary and I’d like to say that I hate it, and would like to throw up beef chunks on it. It’s not even why you would think I hate it though. I hate my new diary because it’s very ugly. I didn’t want a diary that said, Follow Your Dreams on it! I wanted the sequined one that had a fat old unicorn on it but like always, my mom said no, Jimmy.
That’s my name. Jimmy.
What did you think it would be? Sarsaparilla? NO. It’s Jimmy and let me tell you a little about myself if I have to. I’ll do bullet points. I like those.
- My full name is Jimmy Horace Larson.
- I love grilled cheese sandwiches.
- I’m not afraid of spiders.
- I like to throw bread at ducks.
- I’m not who you think I am.
- My father is a weasel.
- My mother is a weasel.
- I am also a weasel.
Don’t worry, stupid. You read that right. You aren’t hallucinating from that weird casserole your grandma made for you yesterday. If you have one. If you aren’t like me. Because my grandma was eaten by a snake the other day. It was upsetting. Now there’s no one to make weird casserole for me. SO APPRECIATE THE FACT THAT YOU MAY BE HALLUCINATING, IDIOT!!! So ungrateful. Well, my Madri is calling me now. That’s the weasel word for mother, in case you didn’t know already. Bye, Diary. I’ll try to hold off throwing beef chunks up until tomorrow night, I guess.
Dear Diary (I don’t feel as hostile towards you today),
Did you know that weasels traditionally were an oppressed animal species? Yeah, I know, it’s hard to believe, but apparently a long time ago there was this big thing called The Weasel Wars. It all started when the other animals started taking away the rights of the weasels and making them live in seperate parts of town and not let them vote or marry animals that weren’t weasels. Well, then this one weasel, her name was Pipovcha, and her whole family started to rebel against the humans and the bad animals so that they could do everything they wanted. And they kept getting more and more and more people to help them, until finally the mayor changed the laws. But some of the animals and humans really still hated the weasels, because they thought they were strange and sneaky, so they started killing off the rebellious creatures, including Pipovcha and her children. That’s what started the whole war. In class today we were reading about it in a book called the Weasel War Chronicles. It’s pretty cool, even if I’d never say that out loud to anyone. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been born in these years, when everything seems to have calmed down. Sometimes I just wish I could have been part of those Weasel Wars and that I could have stood beside Pipovcha and her children to tell the world that I knew I was being treated unfairly and was going to do something about it. I wish, when I start thinking like that, that my name was not Jimmy Horace Weasel but instead it was more like a good weasel name like Vamiro or Wyrmeist. But no. My name is Jimmy Horace Weasel and I live in a time of serene peacefulness, which is nice but also very boring sometimes. If I wasn’t a weasel, though, it would be even more mind numbing than it already is. I wonder what we’ll learn about tomorrow.
Dear Diary (I think today will be a longer entry),
You know how yesterday I was saying I wanted something exciting and meaningful to happen in my life? Well, nothing exciting or meaningful happened today so I was pretty upset. I got up this morning and went to school expecting a wonderful new cause to come up out of the blue and rescue me from another day, but instead, we had a substitute teacher. His name was Ishmael Weasel and at first I thought it was going to be a super awesome day because, after all, he was a weasel. But he didn’t want to talk about the Weasel Wars! He wanted us to jump ahead in our books to the next chapter, which was about the stupid Watermelon Pandemic. It was this weird sickness that was really dangerous and contagious and it made whoever got it turn into fruit. There were a whole lot of recovered cases, but a lot of people stayed as fruit forever. The scientists eventually got a vaccine for it, but while they didn’t have one, all of earth, even the animals, had to stay at home whenever they could. I mean, no one wanted to turn into fruit. I’d already heard about the Watermelon Pandemic, though, because there’s a big old monument to all the fruit people and animals outside the grocery store on highway 14.
The point is, I was disappointed that my teacher, a very, very old weasel that had obviously lived close to the time of the Weasel Wars, wouldn’t even acknowledge the fact that it happened. It was almost like he was scared or something. I don’t know but I hate him now. Stupid old weasel. He had this weird face, too, but it was more than just being old. It was like he had gotten caught in the wheel of a truck and churned up like a centipede. So nasty. I could tell he had gotten plastic surgery done, but some parts of his face were still so scarred they looked more mask than weasel. But do you want to know the weirdest part of Ishmael Weasel’s time as our teacher?
So there’s this girl in my class. Her name is Anatevka and she’s honestly kind of rude. But when Ishmael Weasel heard her talking to me about how she wanted to grind my bones to make her bread, he leaned in way too close and whispered, “This is practically how I met my wife so so many years ago.” And then he swept away like he had never even ruined the conversation with his foul assumptions.
How dare he, huh? That’s a rhetorical question, Diary. You don’t actually have to answer me. Anyway, today was so weird and boring I think I’m just going to go to sleep and hope I don’t have a nightmare about the substitute teacher’s horrible face.
Dear Diary (I know I missed a day but I will explain),
- Yesterday, Anatevka asked me if I would like to be her Walensine.
- I said no way, and then kind of regretted doing that.
- Anatevka isn’t that rude once you get to know her.
- She’s had a pretty rough life if you consider everything.
- I told her I changed my mind and would indeed be her Walenseine.
- I also made her promise we would never get married and prove that weird substitute teacher right.
- She said okay, and we went to eat lunch in the cafeteria.
- We had beans and burnt radish stew.
- It was weird but kind of nice to have someone to talk to, even if she’s kind of rude sometimes.
So it was a busy day, and I’m sure you can see why I didn’t get around to writing anything last night.
Dear Diary (Anatevka and I are seriously dating and I have no idea what to do),
What if the weird sub was right about me and Anatevka? I didn’t think he was, I promise I didn’t, but the last few months have been pretty pleasant even though I hate to admit that. She’s only rude to me in class, when she doesn’t want anyone to realize how much she likes me, but for the rest of the time? She’s scary nice. She wore new clothes yesterday. Like: a whole new backwards baseball cap and pair of tacky ripped jean shorts. It was weird! What if I liked her old clothes, even if they look mostly the same? It’s like she’s trying to look pretty or something. I don’t want to say, “Look, Anatevka, I don’t care if you’re pretty or not,” but that’s just it.
I don’t care if she’s pretty or not. I just like to be around her more than I like hunting for beetles at midnight. And that’s a whole lot of liking right there. I wouldn’t mind having her around for a lot longer, and that’s the whole issue! I can’t be thinking about getting married. No way. And yet, here I am, writing down my deepest thoughts and feelings in a diary. Now I super wish I was alive during the Weasel Wars. Even those battles couldn’t compare to the ones that I’m fighting in my heart, man, not even close to it.
Last Day of School
Um, this is kind of the last page of my diary. Here’s what I’ll say before starting my new one. And yeah, I’ll even do it in bullet points.
- Anatevka’s family invited me to go to their skiing house with them in Frolomado.
- My parents said yeah, Jimmy for the first time in my whole life!
- I went to a march for the banishment of plastic macaws, which is killing the wyrms of the southern isles.
- I don’t want to throw up beef chunks on you.
- Mr. Ishmael apologized to me the next time he substituted, and told me that I reminded him a lot of himself when he was a young weasel and was mistreated by his teacher, who taught lessons on the Weasel Wars everyday, but not as a nice thing.
- You know what, I think taking up writing was good for me.
- Don’t forget me, first diary.
- Thank you for making me chase my dreams.
- NEVER REPEAT ANY OF THAT.