The Baby-sitters Club #29: Mallory and the Mystery Diary
Oh, boy, I'm about to have to admit to something pretty darn embarrassing. Apparently, I didn't always realize what a dingbat Mallory Pike is. Why, you ask? Because when I read this book again, a memory that I've apparently long suppressed came rushing back to me. Mallory opens this book prattling away in her journal. Her final line was "If only I were 13 instead of 11. Life would be a picnic." I totally stole that line! I thought it was hilarious. To be fair, I was maybe 8, tops. More likely I was 6 or 7 (I was a very advanced reader. No, seriously, I was. By the time I was 10, I read Gone with the Wind, Little Women, and Pride and Prejudice all for the first time.)
But anyway, here's what happened: I remember sitting in our basement playroom at home, mad about something, and I decided to make a "Hate List" as this was before I actually had a proper journal. So I took a piece of paper, labeled it "My Hate List" and wrote a list of things I hated, ending with "Not having Christmas at Grandma's." I don't remember any of the other things on the list. Anyway, I wrote all the things on my list and then added the line "If I only I were 13, life would be a picnic." And of course, my nosy mother found my list, laughed at it (Thanks a lot, Mom. Maybe if you'd taken me seriously as a kid, I wouldn't have felt the need to move across the country. Think about that the next time you start harping on me for my life choices) and then was like "What is this about being 13? Where on earth did you come up with that?" so I had to show her this book and then she laughed some more and then she showed my relatives my hate list, like it was just so funny, and I HATE being laughed at (I bet that was on the list!) and wow! I clearly have some residual anger, so I'm just going to move on into the book before it becomes even more blatantly obvious once again that perhaps reliving my childhood through BSC books is not the best idea, and it might be more prudent for me to relive my childhood with the help of a competent and licensed therapist.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Saturday, June 6, 2009
She's home for good!
The Baby-sitters Club #28: Welcome Back, Stacey!
Stacey's back! Stacey's back! Stacey's back! And the peasants rejoice! Or at least, I do.
I know it's a little weird, because this is actually a really sad, depressing book, but I remember loving it as a kid. I think there are a couple reasons for this. One, I was obsessed with New York, and I loved any book that was set there. I loved reading about Stacey (and Laine's) doorman apartment buildings, all the things that Stacey would miss if she moved, things like Bloomingdale's and Central Park and the Hard Rock Cafe, things that I had barely even ever heard of, much less seen, and I was sad that Stacey left because we wouldn't get to hear about them as much. Also, and let me just preface this by saying that I know I'm going to hell, but I was deeply intrigued by the divorce. Divorce really wasn't common in my hometown, at least not amongst my friends' parents or my parents' friends, the people I knew. I was fascinated by it. I spent a really long time agonizing over which parent I would live with if my own split up, despite the fact that I can barely even remember them ever fighting when I was young. (Conclusion: probably my dad. Sorry, Mom, but I figured the others would probably stick with you, and I couldn't leave Dad alone. I've always been a daddy's girl.)
So Stacey's baby-sitting for Henry and Grace, and when she gets home she can hear her parents fighting from outside the door. Stacey, at least, unlike her parents, has the good grace to be ashamed of what the neighbors might think. Good lord, I won't even watch my TV at a high volume for fear of my neighbors hearing it, I can't imagine having a screaming match. Of course, this might be primarily due to embarrassment over my entertainment choices. I'd really hate to have my neighbors figure out exactly how many "Full House" reruns I watch.
Stacey's back! Stacey's back! Stacey's back! And the peasants rejoice! Or at least, I do.
I know it's a little weird, because this is actually a really sad, depressing book, but I remember loving it as a kid. I think there are a couple reasons for this. One, I was obsessed with New York, and I loved any book that was set there. I loved reading about Stacey (and Laine's) doorman apartment buildings, all the things that Stacey would miss if she moved, things like Bloomingdale's and Central Park and the Hard Rock Cafe, things that I had barely even ever heard of, much less seen, and I was sad that Stacey left because we wouldn't get to hear about them as much. Also, and let me just preface this by saying that I know I'm going to hell, but I was deeply intrigued by the divorce. Divorce really wasn't common in my hometown, at least not amongst my friends' parents or my parents' friends, the people I knew. I was fascinated by it. I spent a really long time agonizing over which parent I would live with if my own split up, despite the fact that I can barely even remember them ever fighting when I was young. (Conclusion: probably my dad. Sorry, Mom, but I figured the others would probably stick with you, and I couldn't leave Dad alone. I've always been a daddy's girl.)
So Stacey's baby-sitting for Henry and Grace, and when she gets home she can hear her parents fighting from outside the door. Stacey, at least, unlike her parents, has the good grace to be ashamed of what the neighbors might think. Good lord, I won't even watch my TV at a high volume for fear of my neighbors hearing it, I can't imagine having a screaming match. Of course, this might be primarily due to embarrassment over my entertainment choices. I'd really hate to have my neighbors figure out exactly how many "Full House" reruns I watch.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Why are the BSC members making it so hard for Mallory to join the club?
The Baby-sitters Club #14: Hello, Mallory
Oh, if only they'd made it a little harder. So, Mal wants to join the BSC. The BSC needs to replace Stacey. (sniff. Stacey! Don't leave us!) Sounds like a match made in heaven, right? And yet if only we knew what fresh hell awaited us with every Mal-book.
But this is the first one, and we are so young, and so innocent. Much like Mal herself.
Mal is thrilled to be invited to a BSC meeting to see if she might be appropriate for the club. She dresses up for the meeting. And by dresses up for the meeting, I mean “Dresses like a 6 year old” for the meeting. I’m pretty sure that CLAIRE would know better than to wear a red jumper that says “Mallory” across the front, and white tights with red hearts on them. If I'm not mistaken, my mother made me wear a similar outfit, for my PRE-SCHOOL CLASS PHOTO. And even then I knew better. If you can’t remember your name without looking in the mirror, you have no business baby-sitting.
Oh, if only they'd made it a little harder. So, Mal wants to join the BSC. The BSC needs to replace Stacey. (sniff. Stacey! Don't leave us!) Sounds like a match made in heaven, right? And yet if only we knew what fresh hell awaited us with every Mal-book.
But this is the first one, and we are so young, and so innocent. Much like Mal herself.
Mal is thrilled to be invited to a BSC meeting to see if she might be appropriate for the club. She dresses up for the meeting. And by dresses up for the meeting, I mean “Dresses like a 6 year old” for the meeting. I’m pretty sure that CLAIRE would know better than to wear a red jumper that says “Mallory” across the front, and white tights with red hearts on them. If I'm not mistaken, my mother made me wear a similar outfit, for my PRE-SCHOOL CLASS PHOTO. And even then I knew better. If you can’t remember your name without looking in the mirror, you have no business baby-sitting.
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