"[when] you're nearer to your own soul; you realize that you're there for a purpose."
-quote from NY Times article about Icelanders who don't get depressed in the dead of winter-
Dear Reader, I am a silly, paranoid girl with trust issues. I trust too easily but most of the time I can't open up and trust people because I am used to getting stabbed in the back. There is a song quote somewhere in my head--probably from thom yorke--but its not hitting the surface of my thoughts just yet. Anyway, the topic is betrayal. Lets start with Linda Leone.
*PARAMUS CATHOLIC GIRLS HIGH SCHOOL*
Fun Fact: James Gandolfini's (JG) dad was a janitor there. At age 14, My Baddest Bitch was the first to notice that JG's dad looked like the old dude in the Smells like Teen Spirit video. Of course this was long before JG was a Soprano
I was 14, 30 pounds over weight and I wore a bun every day to school. There was a rumor that I was a ballerina but I think that most people thought that I was a dork. I did not know that I was a dork until Pickle told me years later in college.
Pickle: You are a dork.
Colette: I am not a dork. What do you think constitutes a dork?
I forgot what her definition was but she was a dork too with big boobs and long hair so she got more attention from the boys.
So getting back, I was 14 and I was one of three freshman on a school trip to Greece. There was Francesca Valeriano, who spoke fluent Italian from all her summers in Italy- where she also perfected her blow job style by the age of 12 btw. She was the first person to tell me what a hand job was, an act that sounded so awkward to me.
The other freshman was Linda Leone, an Italian-American from Elmwood Park. The quintessential Jersey Girl who wore too much gold and dark lipstick. She shopped at tacky Jersey stores like G+G and Mandee. I liked her because she was so blunt. She was Sicilian and her dad worked "construction" or "plumbing" like a lot of my Italian friends' parents pretended to do. The three of us bonded, especially Linda and I.
One night, I drank almost two bottles of wine at dinner. Linda got drunk too. I threw a glass of water in her face just because I thought it was cinematic. Later on in our cabin, I asked her..
Colette: Do you like me?
Linda: No
I laughed because I thought that she was joking.
Back at school, we became closer. Talking on the phone about crap like, "whoa, I thought they were BFF 'n shit"...
Her family was racist but I ignored it.
Linda: My mother lets me hang out with you because your family could afford to send you to Greece.
***John Rodriguez***
By junior year, Paramus Catholic became co-ed. Long boring story but what a heartbreak for a dork like me. I became a shrivelled little lamb cowering at the site of all these boys who invaded my classes. I stopped talking in class. I had the cleaners hike up my skirt just a little more. Quickly, the lines of popularity became more apparent. One day after school, I saw Monica Ramirez (who was always hot despite adolscence) making out with John Rodriquez from my theology class in the back of the school. I liked how he kissed her. Open-mouthed. He had beautiful full lips. Back in kindergarten, Kimberly Nye and I used to take turns kissing some boy named Kenneth when Mrs. Hertzberg wasn't watching. As I watched Monica and John, I wanted a turn but I didn't ask because that would have been weird so I decided to obsess over him instead. He was not worth obessing over. He was a pussy before I actually knew how that could apply to a man.
***So how did Linda betray you? She doesn't sound like she was your friend anyway.***
It was subtle. It started sometime after winter. Linda started becoming chatty with some of the populars at school. One day, I saw her walking down the hall with Tarik Livingstone and Monica Ramirez, both of whom I was friendly with as well. I caught up to them, she was cold and kind of ignored me. I let it go.
Second clue was junior prom, when I walked up to her and asked if I could take a picture with her....
Linda: Like, I am holding my soda.
Her date offered to hold her soda so that we could take a picture together. She didn't smile.
Final clue happened in Theology class during quite meditation/journal writing time. Sr. Liz was senile and liked to play elevator music during this portion of class. Lionel Ritchie's "Hello" (instrumental "recorder" style) was playing in the bg. I was sitting in a far corner (head in my journal) on the opposite side of the class, while Linda was talking to some girls by the window.
Some girl: Whoa, how could she think that she could get with him, she's not even that pretty.
It was then that I realized that Linda told the whole class and all the populars that I was obsessed with John Rodriguez. She told them that I used to crank call his house and his friends, and I am pretty sure that she told them all the crazy shit that I said about him to her over the phone. I was her scapegoat, I was her funny story that she could share with the populars and laugh about.
As I was recounting the story to Pickle this afternoon, she reminded me about senior year at BC when Tara told Big John stuff that I never said so he would hate me. He was my buddy and Tara hated our friendship.
Anyway, its a curse. I have a knack at making people hate me and turn against me. But in the meantime, I love my friends and those of you who are brave enough to get to know me better.
Happy Thursday
