Part 21 (2/2)
Sincerely,
Tremaine Publications
Thanks for nothing, Tremaine Publications.
Anyway, J.P.'s play was a huge success.
Of course, he pa.s.sed the senior projects committee with flying colors.
But that's not all: Sean Penn wants to option it.
Which basically means Sean Penn-Sean Penn-wants to make A Prince Among Men into a movie.
Which I'm totally happy about. Don't get me wrong. I'm thrilled for J.P.
And there are already so many movies about my life. What's one more, right?
It's just...WHEN IS IT GOING TO BE MY TURN?
Seriously. When is someone going to recognize something I've done? Other than bring democracy to a small European nation, which frankly no one seems to care about.
I don't mean to whine (which I know is hilarious, because it's basically all I ever do in my journal), but for G.o.d's sake. I don't think it's fair that a guy can write a play (which is basically a huge chunk of MY life that he's more or less STOLEN), throw it up onto a stage, then get a movie deal with Sean Penn.
Whereas I slave-yes, slave-over a book for months, and I can't even get a publisher to look at it.
Come on!
And I'm going to tell you the truth: I didn't like that Sean Penn movie Into the Wild so much.
Yes! I know it was critically acclaimed! I know it won all these awards! It's very sad that boy is dead and all. But I thought the movie Enchanted, with the singing princess and the chipmunk and the people dancing in Central Park, was cuter.
So there!
Anyway, J.P. came up and asked me how I liked A Prince Among Men. (”I was exploring the theme of self-discovery,” he explained to me, ”a boy's journey toward manhood and the woman who helped him find his way from troubled childhood to the full realization of what it means to become a man...and eventually even to become a prince.” He didn't mention anything about exploring the theme of s.e.xy dancing.) I told him I liked it a lot. What else could I say? I guess if it hadn't been about me, I really would have liked it. Except that the princess came off as this kind of kooky girl, who always needs her boyfriend to bail her out of the zany situations she gets herself into, and I don't actually think I'm like that. I don't think I need any rescuing at all, actually.
But it seemed the wrong time to give him editorial notes. And I was glad I didn't, because he seemed so pleased to hear me say I liked it. He wanted me to come out with him and Sean Penn and his parents and Stacey Cheeseman and Andrew Lowenstein so we could all talk about his movie deal. Sean Penn was taking everyone, including the senior projects committee, to Mr. Chow's for a celebratory meal.
But I said I couldn't go. I said I had to go home and study for my Psych final.
Which, I will admit, was not very friendly of me. Especially since I don't have to study for my Psych final at all. I have Psych down cold. After all, I was best friends for most of my life with a girl whose parents were psychiatrists. Then I dated her brother. And now I'm in therapy.
But obviously this didn't occur to J.P., because he just went, ”Are you sure you don't want to come, Mia?” then kissed me when I said no and then hurried to join Sean and Andrew and Stacey Cheeseman and his parents at the theater door, where tons of paparazzi were waiting to take his photo.
Yeah. Because there were huge amounts of paps in front of the theater. As I made my own way out, they asked me how I felt about my boyfriend having written a play about me that's going to be turned into a movie directed by Sean Penn.
I said I felt great about it, making that statement officially Mia Thermopolis's Big Fat Lie Number Ten.
Although I think I'm starting to lose track.
I don't know how I'm ever going to get to sleep tonight when all I can think about is this: P.S. No need to thank me on behalf of your father or Genovia. I only sent it because I thought it might help out your dad in the elections, and that, in turn, would make you happy. So you see my motives were completely selfish.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!.
An excerpt from Ransom My Heart by Daphne Delacroix He felt her body tense, but when she tried to back away from him, two things happened simultaneously to thwart her escape. The first was that she came up against Violet's solid flank. The mare only looked back at them, placidly chewing on some loose straw, and would not move. The second was that Hugo's arms went around her, half-lifting Finnula off the ground even as his tongue slid into her mouth.
Finnula let out a mew of protest that was quickly stifled by his own mouth...but her protest seemed short-lived. Either Finnula was a woman who appreciated a good kiss, or she liked him, at least a bit. Because a second after his mouth met hers, her head fell back against his arm, and her lips opened like a blossom. He felt her relax against him, her hands, which previously had been trying to push him away, suddenly going around his neck to press him closer.
It wasn't until he felt her tongue flick tentatively against his that he lost his careful control. Suddenly, he was kissing her even more urgently, his hands traveling down her sides, past her hips, until they lifted her full up against him.
Her firm b.r.e.a.s.t.s crushed against his chest, her thighs clenched tightly around his hips, Hugo molded Finnula against him, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, her throat. The sensuous reaction he'd evoked from her amazed and excited him, and when she held his face between both her hands and rained kisses upon him, he groaned, both from the sweetness of the gesture and the fact that he could feel the heat from between her legs burning against his own urgent need.
Holding her to him with one arm, he swept open the collar of her s.h.i.+rt. Finnula let out another sound, this one a sigh of such longing that Hugo could not stifle a wordless cry, and he looked about for a pile of hay thick enough for them to lay in....
Thursday, May 4, Psychology final Describe major histocompatibility complex.
This is so easy.
Major histocompatibility complex is the gene family found in most mammals that is responsible for reproductive success. These molecules, which are displayed on cell surfaces, control the immune system. They have the capacity to kill pathogens, or malfunctioning cells. In other words, MHC genes help the immune system to recognize and destroy invaders. This is especially useful in the selection of potential mates. MHC has recently been shown to play a crucial role, via olfaction (or sense of smell), in this capacity. It has been proven that the more diverse, or different, the MHC of the parent, the stronger the immune system of the child. Interestingly, MHC-mate dissimilar selection tendencies have been categorically determined in humans. The more dissimilar a male's MHC to a female (this was without deodorant or cologne), the ”better” he tended to smell to her in clinical studies. These studies have been duplicated time and again, with the same results. Mice and fish have shown similar- Oh.
My.
G.o.d.
Thursday, May 4, Psych final What am I going to do?
Seriously. This can't be happening. I cannot be suffering from major histocompatibility complex for Michael. That is just...that is just ridiculous.
On the other hand...why else have I always been so drawn to-okay, completely obsessed with-the way his neck smells?
This explains everything. He is my perfect dissimilar MHC match! No wonder I've never been able to get over him! It's not me, or my heart, or my brain...it's my genes, crying out in longing for their complete and total genetic opposite!
And what about J.P.? This perfectly explains why I've never been that physically attracted to him...he's never smelled like anything but dry-cleaning fluid to me. We're too MHC compatible! We're too close of a genetic match. We even look alike...the blond hair, light eyes, same build. How did that person put it, so long ago, who saw us together at the theater-”They make a very attractive couple. They're both so tall and blond.”
No wonder J.P. and I have never even gotten past first base. Our molecules are like, REJECTION! REJECTION! DO NOT MATE!
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