Paula 
There were certain girls that were sick and tired of my highfalutin ways. I guess they felt I needed to be brought down a peg or two.
Shockingly, the entire class of girls, even my closest friends, banded together to teach me a lesson. It was a bit of irony as I never appointed myself, "Miss Popularity," in the first place. No matter, their plan unfolded itself. I was to be shunned by all the girls . . . in the class room, in church, in lines and on the playgrounds. Unbeknownst to me, I noticed that something was askew, for as I walked toward a friend, then my best friend, they each turned away. Envious birds, of The Seven Deadly came to roost on my tree.
Although, I pretty much figured out what was going on, the hurt ran deep, I pretended not to notice. But, I worried. And of course, I never told anyone, in my family. After quite a few days of this embarrassing pressure, a chubby admirer by the name of Patrick Curry stepped up to my desk and whispered into my lonely ear.
"We know what the girls are doing."
"Whatever do you mean?" I asked, nonchalantly.
"They're mad cause all the boys like you . . . and we're mad at them now. So this is the deal. At lunch, walk over to Jimmy Ferraro's table area, O.K.?"
"What are you guys up to?"
"Just do what I'm saying." Patrick whispered, as he picked up a pencil that he intentionally dropped and went back to his desk. I scanned the classroom and found mischievous grins on all the boys' faces.
At lunch, tired of sitting alone, as Marco had since joined the male ranks, I built up the courage to walk over to the designated table of Jimmy Ferraro’s. Immediately, I found myself enclosed by the waiting boys. They flirted and joked with me, while deliberately ignoring the other girls. They were having a great time with their little prank. The girls gave quick glances, trying to act as if they didn't notice.
It did not stop there. After school, a large group of strictly young males, held my books and walked me home, staying until 5:00 to play baseball out on my lawn. Came, the morning, the same group was waiting outside so that they could walk me to school. This continued throughout the week, until one by one my girlfriends came and apologized, each one blaming another for the conspiracy. I graciously forgave, but did not forget. I learned that allies will appear where you least expect it and so too, your enemies.
| | MusicDiva  Music Lover |
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| | Paula Paula Servetti |
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| | wolfwitch  Wolf Witch |
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| | Paula Paula Servetti |
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Mom's Pet Project / Pt. 6
Seasons change, even in sunny California and I was changing too. By eleven years old, I was filling out and growing quite tall, reaching my final precise height of five feet 8 1/2inches by twelve. It seemed that I was attracting male eyes wherever I went . . . and I wondered about it. I didn’t feel I was anything special. My hair was thick and reddish, my skin freckled. That, was all I understood. Now, looking back, I realize that my body was quite sensual for my age. But, all I knew, then, was that being tall was good for volleyball.
It was on one rainy day in the spring when I knew something was really going on. On those rainy days, the class got to stay inside the classroom for lunch and play records. An eighth grader always came in to watch our class. I was sitting backward on top of my desk, chatting with the girls, when they all sucked in their breath and stared at the door. Turning around, I saw the reason why. It was none other, than, Michael Hannon, the most gorgeous guy in the entire school; maybe the world for that matter. He had personally decided to watch our class, he said. Then he proceeded to the record player and blasted the song, “Wear My Ring Around Your Neck,” by Elvis Presley. I watched him, not quite believing, that he was headed straight for me. He came, smiled and cockily pulled me from my desk to the front of the class and started to dance the entire song with me, in front of a cheering classroom. I loved every shocking moment. It was soon, well known, that he had picked me for his new girlfriend. We were an item.
My mother couldn’t have been more pleased, as she played bridge with Mike’s mother Maggie, and the two of them were giddy over the whole matter. They proceeded to arrange as many bridge games and swimming barbecues at the affluent, Hannon home just so that Mike and I could be together. When we weren’t swimming we spent a lot of time in his den watching sports on T.V. I pretended to be interested in each event, but I only had eyes for him. It was rather painful at times, because I didn’t really know what to say, because I was so shy.
Even though, it seemed I had arrived, it was of no concern to my brother Mike. He teased me mercilessly and called me a freckled strawberry; threatening to tell Mike Hannon that I still played with Barbie Dolls. But my mother looked at me through very different eyes, understanding the full extent of my capacity. She took me in tow, as her pet project. After all, had she not been a genius in the art of exploiting her own beauty? Had she not, the perfect credentials? Was she not drop-dead gorgeous? Oh yes, she knew how this worked. She began making plans within plans for me. Under her scrutiny and tutelage, she made my departure from a frightened child into sensual puberty, nothing less than, a metamorphic triumph.
"No slumping! Stand up straight or I'll put you in a back brace!" my mother would yell, as she slapped me on the shoulders.
“I think it’s time to cut your hair into a bubble. No more socks for you, when you are out of school . . . you are old enough to shave your legs and wear nylons. And, I think you may start wearing lipstick, also.”
While Mom was busy with my looks and social life, I was still fighting one social injustice after another. I was busy being Joan of Arc.
| | MusicDiva Music Lover |
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| | Paula Paula Servetti |
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| | BOBBY JAMESON/RPJ  |
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| | Paula Paula Servetti |
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| | wolfwitch Wolf Witch |
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Good night.| | Paula Paula Servetti |
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| | scott  Kenneth s cornwall |
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| | Paula Paula Servetti |
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| | Paula Paula Servetti |
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