It’s the nineties! Woo hoo!!! This will be the decade of Darcy! I really hope I become famous someday. Do you think I need a stage name? Maybe Darcy Rose? Darcy Fine? Darcy Rouge? Hmmm. I have some time to think about that one.
Oh, by the way, things didn’t work out with Matt so I gave Blaine a second chance after he promised he wouldn’t obsess over basketball like he did with football. I really did miss him. I also missed being part of the “golden couple.” Nobody ever said that about Matt and me. He’s cute and all, but we really didn’t look that good together. His concert T-shirts clashed with my cute outfits.
January 20, 1990
I just watched the Golden Globes with Rachel and Annalise. Driving Miss Daisy beat When Harry Met Sally?! What a terrible call. When Harry Met Sally is the best movie I’ve ever seen, including Dirty Dancing. I mean, the orgasm scene?? Most hilarious ever. Side note: Annalise thought the The Little Mermaid should’ve won. Classic Annalise.
February 5
Crappy Monday. PMSing with a big case of the blues. So bored with everything and everyone. Only good news: I’ve lost three pounds since New Year’s. And I haven’t made myself puke since Rachel told me how the acid can rot the enamel off your teeth. Ewww. I mean, I hate cellulite—I fear cellulite more than cancer—but nothing, NOTHING is more disgusting than gross teeth. And I’m not just saying that because my dad is a dentist.
But back to my boring life. School is a drag, and every weekend it’s the same old thing. I have to choose between some dumb party where everyone gets loaded and talks shit about each other the next day—okay, I admit that I do it too, but only because I’m soo bored!—or I go out with Rachel, Ethan, and Annalise, who don’t drink at all and we just sit around talking about stupid college applications. Rachel is obsessed with getting into a good college and she carries that damn Fiske Guide with her everywhere. Of course she’s being a big snob about the whole thing and acting like nowhere in the Midwest (except Notre Dame and Northwestern) is good enough for her. She’s mostly looking at faraway schools like Duke, Brown, Princeton, and Cornell. But maybe she won’t get into any of those and will be stuck with Indiana, her safety school. I know it sounds mean, but sometimes I hope that happens. Because if it does, we will stay together. We could even room together, assuming she can get into the best sorority. Plus, she already thinks she’s better than me—I can’t imagine how snobbish she’d get if she went to the Ivy League. Ethan is just as bad, but he has always been like that. And she only gets that way when she’s around him. Just last week he mentioned his application to Tulane and I was like, “Where the hell is that?” So he rolls his eyes and goes, “New Orleans.” Like I’m an idiot for not knowing the location of some rando school. So I tried to change the subject and said, “I thought you wanted to go somewhere warm.” And he goes, “Darcy. Where do you think New Orleans is, exactly?” with that patronizing look he always gets. So I go, “You know. Up there with all the other News.” He kept staring at me so I said, “You know. New York, New Jersey. New Hampshire.” Rachel and Ethan about peed themselves laughing so hard—which really PISSED me off. I mean, I usually don’t mind being the butt of their jokes, but sometimes it’s just too much. So I got up and moved to another table because unlike them, I actually have more than three friends in the world. Rach came over a minute later and whispered an apology. She said she didn’t mean to hurt my feelings, but that I should probably know that New Orleans was in Louisiana, down by Texas. I was like, “Whatever.” It took all I had not to throw in, “Besides, I’d rather be pretty than smart.” No offense to Rachel, but a 4.0 is so not worth that frizzy hair of hers. I mean, hello! Rachel: meet deep conditioner. Deep conditioner: meet my best friend. And while you’re at it, introduce her to a beer. Cause that little meeting is so beyond overdue.
February 18