I Could Have Gotten Detention For This
Stalker In Training
Vacations Don't Always Clear Your Head
Off to the Mountains
The Ones You Least Suspect
Don't Drive to Boston
I guess I'm sick of winter.
Obviously, I have family issues.
The Amazing Animated Slime Mold
Don't Think About Texas
David Sedaris Doesn't Have All the Answers
Even a Sock Puppet Can't Save Me
Upstaged
Makeshift Runway
The Death of Indie Boy
My Stalker Soulmate
Imaginary Friends
Indie Boy Falls in Love
What Are the Odds?
College In the Woods
Airport Under Attack
Bart Simpson, SUV Driver
More School Dreams
Dysfunctional Family Vacation
Three Mixed-Up Places
A Fine Educational Institution
Why I Shouldn't Go Back to High School
Please Make These High School Dreams Stop!
Slimy Fish, Blood, Bad Poetry, and Other Things of Annoyance
In Which I Get Hungry
The Weird Running Girl Cheers on the Team
Welcome Home to the Eve 6 Apartments
The Dorky Road Trip
Rich and Stupid
The Starving Shutterbug
A Wholesome Night Out
I Swear I Would Follow Anything... Just Get Me Out of Here
Not Quite as Fun as a Blue Light Special
I Challenge You To a Duel
Deja Vu, College Style
The Love Child That Wasn't
Just a Little Awkward
The Two Enthused Concertgoers
Shopgirl Beauty Queens
Why You Shouldn't Date Me
Five Beers to Forget
The Game Room Crack-Up
I Shocked the Monkey
Always Second Guessing
At the Movies
I watch too much syndicated TV.
When I go to New York, I'll know not to spend my entire visit in an elevator.
Speed Racer is Dead.
Night School
In Which I Become a Whiny Brat
Friend From Another Planet
How My Fanatically Popular Ex Became a Powerpuff Girl
Why I Don't Spend Spring Break At the Mall
More Reasons to Avoid Family Vacations
What Do I Hear When I Say I Hear the Call of the Road?
Grilled Cheese and the Magical John Updike
The Unmasked Ex
Trying to Forget Your Name
The Tribe Has Spoken
Shakespeare, Kung Fu, and the Manhattan Countryside
"So I'm standing in this rye field..." and other bad literary allusions.
Why I Avoid Family Vacations
The Forgotten Sister
Home Invasion
The Flying Train
Let's Just Be Friends
The Masochist Strikes Again
We be hangin' in sex ed, yo.
The Psychotic Psychologist
So It Goes
A Nacho Cheesier Reconciliation
The Rummage Sale That Wasn't
Ex-Boyfriend Dream #4007
Forgetful Me
How 'Bout No Longer Being Masochistic?
Birthday Bust
Big Time Shopper
Would you like fries and a hooker with that?
Every Night is Ladies' Night at The Crab Shack
Pseudo Revenge on the Ex
Holiday Party Reject Extraordinaire
The Time is Out of Joint
TV Heroines Don't Get Dumped for Gay Guys, Do They?
Holiday Cheer
The Distorted Boyfriend and Other Stories
It's the Cheesiest
Gone Snowboardin'
Laura comes home.
Going to Ithaca
Chris the Druggie

Wicked Elvis Lady!!!
Repossessing Me
Simone.
Sweet, sweet dreams..
Saved
MORE HAUNTED HOUSES
RIDING HOME FROM MESS
Meeting my angel...
Music studio
Special Edition Reese's Cups
Polaroids, Sex, Thrift stores.....
CAVALIER VERSION {121}
Didn't You Tell Her About Me??? (A Very Bad Dream)
Freshman NIGHTMARE
"Trading Laundry Bins"
dog1
The Rejected Clown
a kiss from J
P.E.
Softy World
tumbling down wonderland
vivid as day sexual dreams
Demon Hands
John
Too Much Charlie's Angels

Author: Frannyglass





I was pregnant, or at least I thought I was. I hadn't had a pregnancy test, but I had gained a whole lot of weight in the stomach area, I had awful abdominal pains, and I felt something kicking inside of me on occasion. I was taking a health class in summer school, and the professor was very excited that I was going to be the focal point of the unit on the reproductive system. Everyone thought my baby was going to be due right before final exam time. I wasn't sure how they had figured this out, but, for some reason, I took their word on it.



Meanwhile, I spent my spare time going back to being thirteen. I have no idea how I was able to do this, but I was fairly good at switching back and forth between years. I kept going back in time to visit a guy I know from online. He and I didn't know each other when I was thirteen, but in the dream, we were good friends. I didn't want anyone else to know we were friends, though, because I knew everyone thought he was weird. We were going to a summer camp together; it was held in a discount store. Looked like a Target. Everyone ran around the aisles all day. He kept trying to run off with me and tell me all his political theories. He said he had plans for how he was going to take over all the world's governments.



Everyone in the camp was working on a play together, and somehow he and I ended up on the set design committee. He used building sets as a way to get me alone with him so he could tell me more of his top-secret plans. However, he also liked singing "Jets Song" from West Side Story. He did this often. His favorite band, though, was some group I'd never heard of. He told me he didn't like their music; instead, he agreed with their political theories. He slipped out of the discount store summer camp one day to go see them in concert, and he persuaded me to sneak out with him. However, when we had walked across the street to the concert venue, I realized I didn't have a ticket. He went in without me.



Then I was back to the present year. I was standing at a lake with two girls from my summer school health class when I felt a kick in my stomach and thought it was time for me to give birth. Everyone in the class was really exicted and prepared to take notes while watching me have my baby. I was scared; I was going to give birth in the basement of my house, and I knew I wouldn't have an anesthetic.



The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor of my (unfinished) basement. I was looking down at myself on the floor, however. I was surrounded by not only the people in my class, but also by Homer, Marge, Bart, and Lisa Simpson. My class instructor was saying, "Just let it come out naturally, Laurie," but I was determined to get this over with as quickly as possible. I pushed and pushed, but nothing came out.



"Hmm," one of the girls in the class said. "I guess you weren't pregnant after all."



Everyone was disappointed. And I still had a good deal of extra weight and abdominal pains that I couldn't explain.



One of the girls from my summer school class took me aside. She said she had to give me a blood test. I said I hated blood tests.



"This'll barely hurt," she said. "Just give me your finger."



She held me down on the cold concrete basement floor. Then she pricked my left thumb.



"It hurts!" I screamed. "You said it wouldn't hurt!"



"It's not supposed to," she said. "Just let me get a vial of blood from you."



I was squirming in her grip, hitting the back of my head on the floor. My thumb was stinging, and I realized I hadn't told the girl to prick my right them instead of my left thumb. I was worried I wouldn't be able to write for a while because the pain in my left hand would be too intense.

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