DEAR DIARYEntry: April 1996, part 1
April 1996, part 1
Dear Diary,
I failed my road test for the motherfucking third time. I really can’t believe it. The guy was such a dick and I feel so incredibly stupid. NO ONE fails three times! I can never do anything right. I’m so sad and mad. I only want to drive. That’s it. That’s all I want. The worst part is, is that everything felt right. Like “third time’s the charm” or whatever. I hate good luck and I hate omens and coincidences and how everything happens for a reason. I hate it so much. I tried everything.
April 1996, part 2
Dear Diary,
Today was a glorious day. This morning I passed my road test. Finally. Thank G-d. Tonight, although the “right” thing to do would have been to go to Lee’s house and maybe visit Rich in the hospital, I instead went to the movies with Nagin, Ryan, and Justin. I think I should feel guilty about Lee but I just can’t think about him right now. Every memory of him has been flooding my brain all at once. But I’m in no rush, the memories will always be there. Although nothing has happened with me and Nagin, at least we’re friends and that’s so much better than nothing. Thank you G-d for this grand day.
April 2003
Wow, I’m glad I was so zen about my friend Lee’s death. Wait, did I say “zen?” I meant to say “selfish.” During the road tests and SAT scores, my dear friend Lee died in a tragic accident when a tree decided to get in the way of his mom’s car that he had snuck out of the garage. Rich was sitting shotgun and suffered massive burns trying to save his best friend while the car went up in flames. Yeah, it makes me feel really good to know that I was “in no rush” to pay respects to his family. But I mean, come on. I was a total fucking retard. Failed the road test three times? Dude. For the fourth try, my mom drove me to West Islip (an hour away) because I heard they were easy in that town. So I passed it by having “good omens” and “G-d’s plan” and practically missed my best friend’s funeral so I could go to the movies with Mike Nagin, the boy who would eventually take my flower in ’97.
I looked up that diary entry where I lost my virginity, but all it said was “last night me and Mike did it.”
LESLEY ARFIN
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