June 11
Dear Mr. Vance,
Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!
I am almost blissfully happy, as you may have guessed from the above. SCHOOL IS OUT. It would be sacrilegious to write that in little letters. That one reason has a lot of sub-reasons, too, like no more having to worry about the homework I won't do. I am tan (which I will regret later when I get all wrinkled. Actually, I've already got wrinkles by my eyes and on my forehead. Probably from squinting. My mom is rude and says she can't see them, but I KNOW they are there).
Doug graduated. Isn't that exciting? I went to the ceremony. There were six valedictorians. Of course Doug was one. A-- S---, a friend, was one, too. He wore shorts underneath his robe and dirty sneakers without socks. And he had on sunglasses. I laughed. But whenever I tell people about it they go, "Yeah?" So I shouldn't have bothered mentioning it to you.
My dad took all these pictures with his good camera, and I took some with my camera. Turned out my dad had stuffed his film in wrong, so my pictures will be the only ones of this turning point in my brother's life. So my dad's yelling at Doug's friends to smile as they were marching by was a waste.
I can draw now. Suddenly, I picked up a pencil, and I DREW a face. Yes, it was a living, breathing face. Then I did another one, and another one, until now I have about twenty faces. Today I started on bodies. My mom was a commercial artist so I guess I get it from her.
My dad went to China. Among other things, he brought back a smiling buddha. It's so jolly, I laugh every time I see it. The buddha is fat and has all these kids crawling on him. I always thought Buddhas were very solemn. I should start meditating in front of it. I tried that a few days ago. I sat in my room with no light, and I hummed. But I kept thinking that I wasn't thinking, so I really couldn't elevate myself as high into the air as I would have liked. I just had a vision of myself floating through the hallway, cross-legged and humming, and all my brothers' friends staring at me in amazement.
Our new principal is the biggest jerk in the world. He looks exactly like Norman Bates. These two seniors shot out the glass in his door, and put fifteen For Sale signs in his yard one night. Now he's pressing charges and they might go to jail. He said it was the fourth incident at his home in six weeks. And he's saying how the teachers and administrators can't be harassed by the students. If he was half-way intelligent, he'd notice that HE is the only one being harassed. And on the last day of school someone threw a smoke bomb in the commons and then pulled the fire alarm. The last school he was principal at burned down.
I might send a picture with this letter if I can find one that shows off my immortal beauty. If I don't, you'll probably think I'm hiding something. I'm not. And I'm not fat at all. Short people can't afford to be fat, or else they look like Pillsbury Dough Boys. At school this wretchedly fat girl (who is also somewhat short) fell down the stairs. She just rolled and rolled, and kept on rolling awhile even at the bottom. And people were smirking! I didn't smirk. Of course, I didn't go and help her either.
Your ardent admirer*
Kellas
*I'm not sure what ardent means. So don't take it literally if it means something other than what I think it means.
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