Monday, November 10, 2008

The Performance, Part 1 (Lisa)

Well, I'm a little sad that the dramatic conclusion to Carrie and the Search For a Friend didn't get any comments. But let's face it, that ending sucked big time! Plus my fiancee says that he tried to comment and it wouldn't show up. So who knows, maybe there was just something going on with Blogger.

Anyway, I thought I'd move on to the next story. This one was never finished. However, it does bear the dubious honor of being started TWICE! Unfortunately, I lost my first attempt; I'm hoping it'll turn up again someday, maybe in the depths of my parents' garage. But here's the second draft of The Performance (can a title BE any more generic?), AKA "Lisa and the Angels Go to Disneyland."

I wrote this one when I was about 14. (I'm a little embarrassed that I was still writing Lisa and the Angels stories at that age.) It's a Super Special, so you'll get to know some of the other girls besides Carrie. Woo-hoo!

Of course, in true BSC fashion, we begin with a prologue...

***
Our Trip to Disneyland
by Lisa McOrrill

Okay, so I sing about a million times better than I write.

In fact, once Mrs. Thompson, my English teacher, made me rewrite a paper five times, it was so bad.

But I have a dream vacation ahead of me -- two weeks in bright, sunny California. And I really want to keep a record of each minute so I'll have something to look back on when it's dreary and snowy in my current residence: Albany, New York.

(Does it snow much in Albany? I wouldn't know, I've never been there. Also, shut up, Lisa.)

So here goes. Thus begins the journal of Lisa and the Angels' trip to California!

I am the Lisa of Lisa and the Angels -- Lisa McOrrill, to be exact. My nine best friends and I make up the teen pop singing group. I wouldn't call us the next Beatles or anything, but we've had a lot of success so far.

(Isn't she modest. Yes, by this point, there were TEN members of Lisa and the Angels -- the original six, plus four other girls who you'll read about soon enough.)

Actually, this wasn't even our first journey to California together. Last summer, we held a fabulous concert in Los Angeles, and spent another week and a half just touring the city. We never left L.A., however. This time, we would be spending the first week performing in the magical Disneyland. The second week, we'll travel back to L.A., Beverly Hills, Burbank ... maybe even to San Diego and Santa Barbara, even though Becca says they're too far away.

(Lisa and the Angels = so great they only play one show a year. Um, Lisa, Beverly Hills is L.A. Part of it, at least. I think Burbank is, too, although I'm not 100 % up on my California knowledge. I'm no Dawn Schafer.)

I'm kind of wary about one aspect of the trip. See, six months ago, in January, Cyndi's five-year-old sister Christie was in the Little Miss New York pageant, and she actually won! Her big prize was a trip to anywhere in the U.S.A; all expenses paid, as long as the trip was taken within a year. Of course, when Christie heard about Disneyland, she decided that she just had to come along. Miss Jewell, our manager/producer and trip organizer agreed that she could join us. I'm not sure if I should be happy. Christie's a sweet kid, but she can be a real pest. (Sorry, Cyndi.)

(What a nice thing to write in a journal that Christie's family will probably read ... I really wish I could find Little Christie, which was all about that pageant and which I actually did finish!)

Anyway, we'll be staying at a small little motel -- Stovall's Inn -- but it will still be nice. The motel is only a block or two away from Disneyland!

(Miss Jewell was too cheap for the Disneyland Hotel.)

Oh, I can't wait to get to California and the Happiest Place on Earth! I am going to ride Space Mountain, the Matterhorn, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, Pirates of the Caribbean, Splash Mountain... I'm thrilled about trying that huge drop!

Roller coasters ... games ... sun and fun ... palm trees ... I just can't wait!

Well, I'm off the subject again. I don't even know if there was a subject! I told you I'm a bad writer. (Insert self-deprecating comment here...) So I'll just go on to everybody's plans.

My very best friend, Becca Gibson -- a California native -- plans to shop, shop, shop til she drops, drops, drops! (That's her words.) Personally, I don't see how she can do that. I mean, shopping's okay, but you can do that anywhere!

Cyndi Wellman is dying to go to Beverly Hills and see all the stars' homes. (How original.) Good plan, Cyndi! I want to do that myself, along with going on every single ride at Disneyland, performing four-star concerts each night, going to Magic Mountain (we never got to go there during last year's L.A. trip), going to museums and movie theaters and every famous landmark I can think of, visiting the San Diego Zoo (if we were able), maybe going to Mexico...

Never mind, I've rambled for about the millionth time. Back to my friends' plans. Carrie Packer "just knows" she's going to meet another Southern California guy, just like Mark Kisdney -- maybe even Mark again! He's this great boy she met in L.A. They still keep in touch!

June Wilcok, our newest member, wants to build the ultimate collection of Disney souvenirs. Jennifer Owens just hopes she doesn't end up in the hospital, like she did in Los Angeles! Christine Hart plans to experience every single part of Disneyland, just like me. Lucky Kathy Bell, who will turn fourteen during our trip, is going to have a huge birthday party, which I am very excited about. Stacie Barnes plans to carry a petition everywhere she goes. What's the petition for? To stop cutting down trees! Afterward, she's going to send it to a logging company. Weird idea, Stace, but good one!

(Apparently Stacie IS Dawn Schafer.)

Racquelle Arlington is going to try to get a new California image, and even little Christie has plans -- to meet her idol, Andy Williams! (She thinks that with the exception of us, all famous people live in California.)

(Try Branson, Christie. By the way, her crush on Joe McIntyre died along with NKOTB's popularity; but where I got Andy Williams, I have no idea. In some books, she loves Burl Ives instead. Don't ask me.)

I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait!

California -- here we come!
-Lisa McOrrill

***
Chapter One - Lisa

It's here! Our trip has finally arrived!

Well ... almost.

Tomorrow we leave for two weeks of sunshine galore! Today was the day I began packing. Oh, it was tough. I couldn't decide whether to bring my blue cotton shorts or my black cutoffs. Should I take my striped T-shirt, or would it be tank top weather? And for swimming, would I need my red bikini or my pink one-piece? Would it be okay to pack jeans and sweatshirts, just in case it rained? What would be more comfortable to walk in, my Keds or my new white sandals?

Finally I decided to bring all of these things, plus more. It was time to pack train entertainment -- we would be on trains for over three days -- but first I had to look at my jewelry. Should I bring my real diamond ring or just my silver one? My 18-karat gold watch, or my emerald earrings? I want to look my best for California...

(Yes, Lisa, that's a great idea to bring all your fancy jewelry -- which, by the way, goes oh so well with your striped T-shirt and other clothes -- on a train. At least we're done with her journal entries.)

Have you ever tried to pack for a two-week long vacation? No doubt about it, it is hard work.

The day before the first train departed, I woke up at seven o'clock and immediately pulled out my suitcases. (I had wanted to get packing over with two weeks ago, but Mom wouldn't let me.) Then I yanked open all my dresser drawers and my closet door. Where should I start? I wondered.

My new black cutoffs caught my eye first. I knew they would be practical. I mean, I may be thirteen, but even thirty-year-olds spill.

Then I noticed my blue shorts. They would most likely be cooler than the cut-offs. It was California we were traveling to, and in summertime...

Why not pack both? I thought. Then I scolded myself. I only had so much room. I set both pairs of shorts aside.

I pulled a wrinkled pink tank top out of my top drawer. Black and pink is one of my favorite color combinations, and the top would go great with the cutoffs. Then I noticed a blue-and-white striped T-shirt that would look fabulous with my blue shorts ...

I hate packing.

In the end, I took: both pairs of shorts and eight more; both tops and six more (I was more likely to buy souvenir T-shirts than souvenir shorts); a pair of jeans; two sweatshirts; all three of my nightgowns and my two pairs of Esleep pajamas; four bathing suits; lots and lots of underwear; and four pairs of shoes. This took up one suitcase and a half. In the other half of the suitcase, I packed three books, some stationery and pens, my brush, my makeup and mirror set, my spare toothbrush and toothpaste, my Walkman, and as many tapes as I could cram in there. I absolutely adore music, and there was no way I could go without it for two weeks.

(Those must be some big suitcases. I hope Lisa doesn't plan to buy any souvenirs.)

This all took an hour and a half. I was sitting on my bed, tired and happy, when Mom called from downstairs in a singsong voice, "Lisa! Breakfast!"

Swell, I thought glumly. Along with being a professional singer, I am a pretty dedicated ballet dancer. Therefore, I really don't like to eat at all, and am quite thin. Mom isn't too happy with this. She's always bugging me about my weight, and preparing me huge meals that she knows I'll never finish. But really! I can't ever get fat, that's all. It's not like I think I am or anything.

(Mmm-hmm. Get therapy, Lisa.)

"Lisa!" Mom insisted.

"I'm coming!" I called back. On impulse, I grabbed my leotard, tights, and ballet slippers from the drawer and stuffed them into my suitcase. Then I ran down the three flighs of stairs that led to our first-floor kitchen. (There's a kitchen on the third floor, too, but it's much smaller. Due to my parents' jobs, we live in a four-story mansion and are what would be considered a "rich" family. My celebrity status doesn't hurt this, either.)

(Snob. Mr. and Mrs. McOrrill are totally living off Lisa's Lisa and the Angels money.)

I wasn't at all surprised to see a plate stuffed with eggs, bacon, and buttered toast, along with a tall glass of milk and a glass of orange juice. I sat down in my chair and sighed.

"Why, Lisa, whatever is the matter?" Mom asked innocently.

Please, I thought drily. "Nothing," I muttered aloud. I nibbled a piece of toast and stared wistfully at my sister Erin's plate, which held only half as much food as mine.

Erin caught me looking and smiled. She's a year and a half older than I am, and very sweet and pretty. "Lucky Lisa," she said. "Going to Disneyland. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," I replied. "But I'm so excited!"

"What time do we have to be at the train station again?" Dad spoke up.

"Nine thirty in the morning," I answered promptly. That first train would lead us only to Detroit. Then we would switch trains, and continue to switch in Chicago, Denver, Salt Lake City, Seattle, and finally Los Angeles, where would take a short ride (on another train) to Anaheim.

I think it would be much easier flying.

(Perhaps, but Lisa should count her blessings. I would kill to go on a cross-country train trip like that. Although Lisa's itinerary looks a little off. I know from recent experience that there aren't any trains that go directly from Salt Lake City to Seattle.)

"I wish I could come with you," Erin said. "We've never even been to Disney World."

"I know," I said sadly. "But don't worry. I'll bring you back a souvenir!"

***

After breakfast (I had to eat all of it) I was stuck with the task of trying to pass time and make the day go by fast. I decided to start by going to Kathy's house, which is just across the street from mine.

Her little brother Henry answered the door! He's two-and-a-half years old, and adorable. Henry talks slowly but he can talk. It's funny, because Henry's adopted, but he looks just like the Bells -- golden hair and those big, blue eyes.

"Hi, Henry!" I greeted him. "Is Kathy here?"

"Kaf-fy's up-stahs," he answered in his slow voice. He gazed up at me.

(Gag. Why are the Bells letting him run around by himself?)

I grinned. "Thanks. Can I come in?"

"Come-in." Henry held open the door. (What a gentlemanly two-year-old.) I stepped inside and closed it for him. Kathy's eight-year-old sister Mary appeared.

"Hello, Lisa," she said, nodding. "Kathy is upstairs, preparing for her journey. Mother and Father are not home at the moment."

"That's ok," I said. "Um ... can Kathy come downstairs?"

"I will ask her." Mary turned toward the stairs. "KATHY!!!"
I almost gigged at prim, proper Mary bellowing like that!

A few seconds later, Kathy appeared. "Yes? ... oh, hi, Lisa!" She hurried downstairs. "Is something wrong?"

"Nope. I just came over to talk," I replied.

"Tawk," Henry spoke up. "Tawk-to-me."

(Shut up, Henry.)

Mary smiled. "Come along, Henry, and let Kathy and Lisa be alone." She led her brother away. (Good old Mary.)

"So, are you finished packing?" Kathy asked, sitting gracefully onto an elegant sofa. (The Bells are also wealthy.)

I nodded. "It took me so long. I couldn't decide what to bring!"

"Me, neither. Um ... did you buy my present yet, Lisa? If not, I saw a very exquisite sweater..."

I laughed. "Kathy, I bought your present last week!" (I was giving her two mystery novels.)

Kathy pouted for a few seconds. (She's kind of immature and it can get very annoying.) Then she flipped her long golden hair behind her shoulder and said smugly, "I'm sure I will like your gift, whatever it is. Maybe Racquelle will buy me the sweater. She's rich enough."

For Pete's sake, Kathy thought I didn't have enough money?! I didn't want to start any fights, so I just said, "Yeah, maybe she will."

"What rides are you gonna go on?" Kathy asked, changing the subject.

I brightened. "Oh, all of them! Especially Space Mountain, the Matterhorn, Big Thunder Mountain, and Splash Mountain."

Kathy smiled. "The roller coasters. I want to go on King Arthur's Carousel first thing. I also want to go on Peter Pan's Flight, Snow White's Scary Adventures, and Pinnochio's Daring Journey."

"Is there a storybook section?" I asked curiously.

Kathy nodded. "Fantasyland. (Duh, Lisa.) There's eight different sections -- that one, Tomorrowland, Frontierland, Adventureland, Critter Country, New Orleans Square, Toontown, and Main Street."

"Cool, I didn't know that! Oh, I'm excited! Tomorrow at this time, we'll actally be on the train!"

Kathy grinned. "I hope tomorrow comes soon!"

She couldn't have been farther from the truth. Tuesday lasted forever. I went to all of my best friends' houses and called some of my other friends up, and it was still only four-thirty.

Erin invited me to the park with her and her friend Marianne Hart, Christine's sister. I gladly accepted. But when we got back, it ws still only six. I had to eat dinner, and for once I was glad -- eating took up time.

After I reluctantly swallowed my hamburger (I thought you were glad?) I got a fantastic idea. Becca could spend the night! That would make time pass quickly!

My parents and the Gibsons said Becca could come over. She was loaded with stuff, because she would not be going back to her own house before the train left. (Her family was coming to the station to see her off, though.)

Becca and I had a blast. The only annoying thing that happened was when Mom interrupted this movie we were watching to ask if I wanted a fruit-punch cupcake. I've never even heard of fruit-punch cupcakes. I said no. But Becca took three. (She does almost nothing but eat; still, she stays skinny. The lucky dog.)

"Lisa," Mom scolded. "Look at you!" She grabbed my wrist. "My thumb and my pinkie can go all the way around your wrist and there's still space left! You can't keep not eating. She looks as though she's starving, doesn't she, Rebecca?"

Becca grinned. She thinks Mom's funny.

"Lisa, you look more like a twig than a healthy girl. I want you to eat more like Rebecca on your trip. I don't want you coming home looking like those children over in Africa. You already look like you haven't been fed for three weeks ... right, Rebecca?"

Becca grinned. "Right."

Satisfied, Mom left. I glared at Becca, who was still grinning. "Stop," I ordered.

"Sorry," she chuckled. "Here ... want a cupcake?"

"No!" I snapped.

Becca frowned. "Come on, Lis. Don't be mad. Your mom's always bugged you. It's not my fault."

I sighed. She had a point. And how could I be mad when in 120 hours I would be in ... California!

****
Wow, that was long. Coming up next ... Lisa and the Angels slum it in coach seats! Also, Christie Wellman (Lisa and the Angels' version of Karen Brewer. Be warned.)