Leave Me Alone, I Hate You

TGIF, mofos!

Yep, it’s Friday, and you know what that means…let’s get freaky.

For those who missed last week’s Freaky Friday, this is the day devoted to my creepy pre-teen Michael Jackson diary entries!

Just when you think the MJ legacy can’t get any more awesome, meet 12-year-old me:

1-23-84

I just got a whole bunch of new pictures and articles about Michael Jackson. I have them posted all over my wall! I just found out that Michael Jackson is a big fan of E.T.! He has seen that movie about 12 times! He even narrated the story on to a record. He is just like a big kid. I read that when he has a rough day, he bikes over to the nearest playground to talk with the kids! He also loves cartoons! He has a huge collection of them! Paul McCartney also has one. Whenever they get together, they watch cartoons! I think it’s great!

Michael Jackson. E.T. Paul McCartney. Cartoons.

If you don’t have a great weekend, don’t blame me.

I mentioned before that I was a crazy Michael Jackson fan as a kid. I don’t know if I was able to fully communicate just how serious this wacko-jacko phase was. I have a ridiculous amount of demented diary entries about MJ. So many, that I could start an entirely new blog devoted to the MJ diaries alone.

But I figure, one blog is weird enough. Two blogs and you’re just a dick. (sorry multiple bloggers out there, I’m just speaking for myself on this issue)

So I’ve decided that Fridays will officially become creepy pre-teen Michael Jackson diary entry day here at Leave Me Alone.

TGIF people.

Grammy re-cap, circa 1984. This is it.

1-17-84

Michael Jackson is the greatest! He is so cool! He is also a total babe! (that means good looking) He was being really nice last night. He was nominated for 9 awards and won 8! That is a record I think. He also won the biggest award of all, the award of merit! All of his friends were up there saying nice things about him. Especially Diana Ross. They are really close friends. When she got up there, he was just about in tears! When he got up there to receive his award, he just hugged her. He even took up his 6-year-old friend to receive one award. He said that he was his biggest inspiration. I promise myself that one day I will meet Michael Jackson. I have to! After all, they say: where there’s a will, there’s a way! I am determined!

If you were wondering, his 6-year old friend was none other than Emmanuel Lewis of Webster fame. He was also with Brooke Shields, who, as you know, makes me want to barf.

In this clip, he even takes off his glasses. (the video says 1983, but trust me and my diary, it was 1984) Anyway doesn’t Michael Sembello seem pissed?

Slow day...

Because any case of VD requires follow up care:

I realized that in my haste to let you know how I felt about Valentine’s Day (see VD-Day post from February 14), I neglected to let you know what actually happened with my crush on Chris. In fact, it never even occurred to me to bother. This was 9^th grade, this crap doesn’t have a happy ending.

Or any ending, really.

Chris continued to be the primary focus of my freshman year (sorry academics). And like so many ill-conceived crushes that would follow, imagining that something might eventually happen made my normally mundane existence almost endurable.

2-15-86 continued…

…at the dance I asked Chris to dance once and he asked me to dance once (last dance – it was a fast one though). I was getting so pissed at Jenny. She kept asking him to dance and hanging around him at the game. She always does that!

Damn you, Jenny. May you never dance again!

But if I may offer my own homage to the great wisdom of Coolio: ain’t no party like an unrequited party cuz an unrequited party don’t stop:

2-27-86

…Chris was hanging around today. He talked to me a lot. We got in a fight! He apologized and gave me his locker combo (271 = 34-6-44) so I was excited! He’s so cute! I just am so tired of waiting around. I think maybe he likes me, but, as Whitney Houston says, “How will I know?” If something doesn’t happen real soon, I’ll have to give up and face reality.

By the way, I’m on another one of my famous diets. Spring break is coming up…I can’t wear a bathing suit in my shape!

More later…

Familiar, isn’t it? Ok, eventually locker combos become keys to our respective apartments, but isn’t this essentially still what we do to each other every day? All this veiled communication…

I could’ve just said, “Look Chris, I like you. How do you feel about me?” Instead, I turned up the Whitney Houston and went on another diet.

Alternatively, he could’ve said, “Look, I like you, but mainly only because you like me, and that’s good for my ego.” Instead I get the locker combo. (which by the way, why would you do that?! You’re just asking to get robbed or locker-bombed)

All the wondering. Waiting. Mixed signals. No signals. That’s the real dance, people.

And it’s not a slow one.

All I can say is, more later…

It probably comes as no surprise that I find Valentine’s Day to be a crock.

If you’re alone, bring on wine-fueled waterworks. If you’re with someone, be all creepy and hold hands in public and say gross stuff like “You’re my soul mate.” (which is enough to make you miss the wine and waterworks)

Blech.

I'm not anti-romance. In fact, I used to read this series of paperback teen novels called Sweet Dreams Romances with titles like “It Must Be Magic.” (it so was) And I live for Mr. Darcy on paper and screen – as long as its the BBC miniseries Pride and Prejudice, not that crappy Kiera Knightly one.

Unfortunately real life is much less romantic than it ought to be. Eventually you end up a little too grateful for even the smallest gestures. And that’s not just the diminished expectations talkin’...

Case in point? Valentines Day 1986.

VD 86 was the year I was in love with an older man. A sophomore! Chris. (sigh) True, he was not the slightest bit interested in me, but why should that matter?! It was the 80s. If you want it, bunch up your leg warmers and go get it girl. So, several days before VD, I ordered a corsage for Chris.

Aw, yeah. Making my move:

2-15-86

Yesterday was the best day of this whole entire year…I got the corsage that I had ordered earlier for Chris. But I decided I wasn’t going to give it to him. Then after the bell rang and I was rushing around trying to get to English class Leah came up to me and said, “I think you should give it to him, he’s walking around all depressed.” So really quickly, I wrote on the card then gave the flower to Leah because I was late for English. Then during English I got delivered a cupcake and card. The card said: “Thanks for the flower. I thought it was pretty neat. Have a Happy Valentines Day! Love, Chris” I almost died! He’s so sweet! He could’ve just said thank you in person but this way was sooooooooo much better!

Good lord, why was I so grateful?! I ordered the guy a flower DAYS in advance. It probably cost me my entire allowance. That was some thoughtful shit, if I do say so myself. He passes by the cheerleader cupcake table and plops down a buck on his way to gym class, and I'm acting like he just slayed a dragon on my behalf.

2-15-86 (continued)

Tyra was telling me that Chris was at the cupcake table buying my cupcake…he was just gonna give it to me at lunch but Tyra said no – pick out a card and I’ll deliver it. He said, “I don’t know what to say – how’s this?” She said good. He asked, are you delivering it now? She said, yes. He said, “I’m leaving.” That sounds exactly like something I would say!! We are so much alike!”

He was just going to give it to me at lunch?! That's even worse!! I’m sorry, but seems to me like the one I should’ve been in love with was Tyra. At least she thought of the card.

And yeah, “I’m leaving” does sound exactly like something I would say. Or exactly like what anyone would say, you know, if they happened to be leaving.

Looking back, I’m not entirely sorry about the corsage bit though. You have to take chances with your allowance every now and again. Stir the romance pot, see what you get. Yes, sometimes you end up with humiliation stew, but you never know unless you try.

But screw Valentines Day. Just buy your own damn cupcake.

FYI, my sister recently informed me that time has not been kind to Chris.

“You wouldn’t want any of his cupcake,” she said. “Trust me.”

I’m not much for competition. I avoid it. And if I can’t manage to avoid it altogether, then I pretty much opt for preemptive surrender. I hear that starter pistol fire, and I’m already graciously shaking my opponent’s hand.

Congrats, buddy. You win. Good game, though. Nice hustle.

Ok, so I don't have the eye of the tiger, but this approach does allow me to avoid all the messy disappointment that stems from wondering “what if today is my day?!” It’s not. Trust me on this.

And if I do happen to stumble into an occasional victory, well, hot damn. Surprise City, and I’m the mayor.

I have always had an especially deep aversion to competition in the old romance department. Nothing like the humiliation of having “PLEASE LIKE ME!” tattooed all over your face.

(I’m telling you, I would never make it on that tv show “The Bachelor.” And not just because I’m already married and prone to violent outbursts of profanity and find the entire concept of the show vomit-inducing…)

Feeling like you’re competing for someone’s attention is hard to avoid in real life. Even if you’re trolling for dates on one of those “meet a prisoner” websites -- sooner or later, we all find ourselves in the unfortunate situation of liking the same person (or prisoner) as someone else. I just pretty much always assumed that every time I found myself in that sort of situation, I would lose.

In fact, my whole life, I purposefully sought out men who were a little off the radar, to avoid just that feeling.

Like that guy who ran into someone he knew from psychic school while we were on our first date. Hey, it beats clown college, and he’s all mine.

(sigh) Isn’t it almost romantic?

I eventually discovered that there is a mystifying social phenomenon that renders my (otherwise brilliant) strategy totally useless.

Turns out, no matter how obscure, socially awkward or “outside the box” your choice for romance may be, the very fact that you dare to like someone at all immediately ups their “hot ticket” value exponentially.

Your possible interest in him or her (I find this to be a gender-neutral problem) seems to somehow create a perfect storm of newfound attention in the previously calm waters of your latest crush. It’s like the rest of the world just discovered your favorite band, and now you can’t get tickets to the show.

Cue humiliating “PLEASE LIKE ME!” face tattoo and saddle up for a bumpy ride.

And so, like it or not, the competition begins. And it begins early.

11-2-1985

About three weeks ago, I developed the biggest crush on this boy in my class named Bobby Orson. The only problem with that is that Cecily had a crush on him at the same time. So at Hadley’s football party last weekend he was kind of acting like he liked me. Then I found out he asked Cecily to sit by him on the bus on the trip the band is taking today. Well, let me tell you, was I ever disappointed!! So I tried just blowing it off but that didn’t work. I’m still flipped over the guy, and I can’t help wondering what he’s doing with Cecily right now. Probably nothing knowing goodie-two-shoes Cecily! But what bugs me is that for a while he liked me, and then he thought I was mad at him so he liked Cecily.

But no one likes Cecily for long once they get to know her!!

That last bit was straight up unsportsmanlike conduct. My apologies.

What is obvious to me in retrospect is that IF Bobby did indeed have feelings for me they couldn’t have been deep. Certainly not The Notebook deep, if he merely “thought I was mad at him” and that was enough to drive him into the arms of a goodie-two-shoes who may or may not let him feel her up on a band trip. (my money was clearly on “may not” from the tone of this diary entry, sorry Bobb old boy…)

Regardless, I was left “still flipped” and “ever disappointed.”

In the years that passed since Hadley’s fateful football party of 1985, I found myself in the Cecily predicament many times.

Nothing epic, mind you. It was all just a series of mini-defeats.

Stupid stuff like, you innocently ask your co-worker, “Hey, do you think that guy in accounting is cute?”

"Who?" she asks.

And the next thing you know they’re full on macking at the office Christmas party. So yah, she thinks he’s cute.

And she obviously didn’t pick up on the fact that SO DID YOU.

Anyway, enough of these things happen, you start feeling tagged for doom. The consummate loser. Until even the possibility of a possibility seems improbable. You know what I mean.

And then...

12-6-1985

I just got back from the first boys basketball game of the season. It was so much fun! Maybe that’s because the guy I have a crush on right now is on J.V. – so I can cheer for him! (by the way, I got over Bobb, he was too immature. Not that I am some great mature person, but he’s really bad! Now we’re just friends.) Anyway, where was I, oh yeah, Chris (that’s the guy I have a crush on) is in the 10^th grade. I will never have a chance with him…

Ah, ever the optimist.

I don't know, not to try to sound like "some great mature person," but if you think about it, maybe all these defeats are nothing but a series of dodged bullets. The defeated live to fight another day. Or cheer or whatever you’re into at the time.

Until it stops being such a fight anymore.

And I guess that Cecily did not ruin the romance of my life after all.

She did try though.

Stupid Cecily.

It’s not often that one can peruse the pages of their teenage diaries and find a topic that is so damn old, it’s new again.

Actually, it does sort of happen often.

ALL the time.

But you’re missing my point…

Thursday, January 31, 1985

I haven’t had a pop in 6 days. I am cutting down to 2 a week.

Great news. I just knew Michael Jackson would come through!! He and some others are starting an American version of “Do They Know It’s Christmas” for Ethiopia called “We Are the World.” It’s gonna be great!!

Louise’s gerbil had 7 babies recently. Isn’t that nice?

I tended to bury the lead back then (no pop in 6 days…how was I alive?!), but the new/old thing I’m referring to is, of course, We Are the World.

(fyi: the gerbil bit didn’t turn out to be that nice. The mother ate like three of the babies within the space of a week. It was seriously gruesome.)

I was really happy to hear that Quincy Jones gathered a new group to reprise the song We Are the World to benefit earthquake victims in Haiti. I can’t say I’m a fan of all the artists involved, but charity is charity (even if it comes in the form of a Jonas Brother) – and Haiti desperately needs the help. I read that this time the session was filmed in 3D with green screen technology that will allow you to put yourself in the video. Right there! Next to Lil Wayne.

Pretty cool, if you ask me.

25 years ago the big “wow!” was that it was probably the first time Kenny Rogers had ever even heard of Cyndi Lauper. (I would’ve so wedged myself between them via technology if given the chance…)

Friday, April 5^th, 1985

There is so much to tell! I have been very busy with spring break and all! It was great.

But more importantly is USA for Africa. So much progress. Today their song “We Are the World” was played at 10:50 this morning – all over the world – at the same time. No one could escape its sad but at the same time hopeful message.

(Well, you know, except for those without radios…but I was emotional at the time.)

Friday, April 5^th, 1985 (continued)

…If people don’t respond to that then there is something definitely wrong with today’s society…There is one line in that touching song We Are the World that inspires me: “We can’t go on pretending day by day that someone somewhere will soon make a change.” The meaning of that line is the story of my life. I kept telling myself that I would sit around and cry a few tears and someone else would make the miracles happen. But that’s the wrong idea. We have to get off our rears and give it our best shot or else things only get worse!

I have to pass on something special so that I may look back upon this in fond memory: Steve Perry, after singing with the legendary choir USA for Africa, went to a hotel and slept and slept. Then he ordered room service, and as he removed the silver cover from the food he suddenly began to cry.

It gives me a chill each time I hear that story.

Now I’m sure Steve Perry is a great and generous guy, and maybe there is a bit of truth to this room service story (which was likely brought to my attention by the hard hitting journalists at Tiger Beat). I’m just not sure why it had such a chilling impact on me, certainly the famine was enough cause for emotion, but hey…I was a kid who loved Journey.

I laughed out loud when I found this entry, but honestly, I can’t even bring myself to make as much fun of my strange/cheesy/overly earnest 13-year-old self as I probably should.

I went to youtube and watched the video again. It still gets me. Even though I firmly believe that no one (with the exception of Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles) ought to have been allowed to wear their sunglasses during the recording session, I think the song was a heart felt effort by all. Plus, I sort of miss Huey Lewis. Where is that guy?

Anyway, I was not the most eloquent teenager, but some things still ring true 25 years later. We do have to “get off our rears,” or “things only get worse.”

We are (still) the world.