OCD, the Dude, and Me - By Lauren Roedy Vaughn Page 0,57
the lie that Daniel has set forth tonight.”
“Well, then I’d say my lie was a good thing. Getting this group to do something other than whine about our circumstances can only be good. I, for one, think we should shift the entire social skills class into a Save the Children group. All in favor?” Every hand shot up.
Mission accomplished.
Daniel did talk to me about not using him to make myself look better to Jacob, even though he did agree to go to my prom with me because he could masquerade as a full-fledged straight guy and stare at all the boys without fear of fists. He couldn’t see what I saw in Jacob, actually. I thought for sure Daniel would take one look at him and fall in love.
“No. If I know up front he’s straight but an asshole, the asshole trumps straight, and I’m immediately turned off. Generally, I have to discover them on my own, like them first, think they are dreamy and perfect and smell good, and then I find out they are jerks, get my face smashed into a locker or some metaphorical equivalent, and then get over them. You took the locker to the face for me on this one. He’s got a little prick—you can tell.”
“OMG, really?”
“Totally.”
*JUSTINE LETTER*
Dear Danielle,
How nice your friend is gay. That’s just fine by me. As far as how you stand out, just know everyone stands out. Each life is a unique blend of energy that colors the planet. Think about the energy that is you, that you give off. Where did that energy come from? What has happened in your life that gave you your unique you quality. Pick one little or big thing, it doesn’t matter. If you are honest, how you stand out will read loud and clear like the crisp air in the morning of a new day. In your essay, just be who you are. I, for one, like her very much.
Do you know what I do each week, Danielle? I mean besides my tours. Each week, I meet with five other women I’ve known now for over thirty years, my goodness. When we first started meeting, we were all grieving widows. We did a lot of boohooing together for a while. But, you know what, we needed to be that for a little bit. That was who we were.
And then one day, one of the women started talking about a lusty romance novel she was reading. Oh my. We couldn’t help ourselves, Danielle. We all went home and bought that book. Since then, our grieving widows group has become a romance book club. Are you picturing that, dear? Five old ladies sitting in a pub snickering over silly books, talking all about the impossible lives of fictional people? Well, that’s what we do, my dear, because our youthful shame and guilt left us long ago. We do that and we make meals with each other and we go to church and we live.
Good-bye for now, dear,
Justine
*AUNT JOYCE AND DANIEL E-MAIL* 5/27
E-mail from me to Daniel (late so I couldn’t call) with a cc to Aunt Joyce
So, my aunt sent drawings of the costumes she’s having made for us! I’ve cc’d her on this e-mail so you can write her back with your shirt size, shoe size, and pant size. Daniel, you’re gonna love the getup! Thank you, Aunt Joyce, you save us.
*ME-MOIR JOURNAL* 5/30
Daniel drags me to confession
Daniel has been trying for weeks to get me to go to confession with him. I have not been inclined. However, Daniel reminded me that he agreed to be my “straight” date for the prom, that I had used him to make Jacob think that I had a boyfriend, and that I was his friend, and he just wanted me to go with him. Heaven help me, literally. Catholic churches weird me out.
At this particular church, a huge Jesus hangs on a cross front and center. You can’t miss it. There are statues everywhere of people weeping and falling to their knees, and all this creepy decor that is outside my comfort zone. The place needs my mom to come in and happy it up a little.
Daniel told me what to do. I had to get in that sin-box and start by saying, “Bless me, father, for I have sinned. It’s been (fill in time period) since my last confession, and these are my sins.” I didn’t know what I’d list as my sins, but I planned