Carrie's Confessions, Vol. 1

July 14, 2008- Studio/Bedroom- Upper East Side, Manhattan, NYC

Well, I just finished my first day at Science Camp. If I had a choice, I'd be in fashion camp or doing something in Paris or working in Chanel or Bergdorf Goodman. But I am in science camp because I am a kid genius. It was fun and all, I knew people, but still- I am the most creative person I know! I could have a monopoly of the whole world!

But, because I am a kid genius, I am stuck in science camp. But the whole day, I long for Bergdorf Goodman. And Chanel. And the latest issue of Vogue. The other thing I long for- a writing column in the paper or a magazine. I am a literary prodigy, meaning that I could be the naxt Truman Capote (but pretty, and I wouldn't discrimiate against Audrey Hepburn in favor of Marilyn Monroe.) But unfortunately, I am 11, so I must continue to go to camp, follow my parents' orders and sit in Chanel while my mother shops. Until the Euro goes down. Economy, even if it means that I have to make platinum paper for the dollar and be so demanding that I need 62,000 employees, it will get better. So that I can go to Europe and be discovered for my talent.

I'm Carrie Bennett, by the way. Preteenage literary prodigy, science genius, fashion expert, you name it, I'm there (besides sports. Except ice hockey and equestrian.) I'm writing from my bedroom/studio in NYC. You see, I live in one of those brownstones, like Holly Golightly's in Breakfast at Tiffany's, in an apartment. There's my mom, my dad, my cat, Lola, and me. My bedroom doubles as my sewing studio, for my brilliant fashion creations, my writer's room, for my inspiration, my library, for the thousands of books I own, and, a place to sleep. It's rather small (especially with Lola taking up a bunch of space, the glamour feline) but I get a lot of inspiration. Most of the time, I wear my own creations. My mother wears European clothes. I wear clothes inspired by European clothes.

Tonight, I am working on a beautiful ballgown. It is couture, because I made it for myself. If I ever need one. It is navy blue, strapless, glittery. It was tight to the body, and then, when it gets to your mid thighs, poofs out to the floor. I think that it is beautiful, even though it is more made for someone who is going to a creative white tie event. Or just someone who sticks out from the crowd, like me.
Because I have no place to store the many gowns that I have made, I put them all on dress forms. I have so many, that my mother has started to put them around the apartment for decoration. People see them through the windows and come and ask if I can make their bridesmaids' dresses. You've gotta be kidding me.

I have to admit, Science Camp is better than school, where I feel like the outcast. During recess, I could be gossiping about the bimbos we call boys, but instead, I write a poem, or I read. Is it a crime? Even my teacher has been bugging me about my anti-social habits.

So, I am working on my dress, when Lola approaches me. She looks at me, with the face. When Lola gives me this face, I know she wants;
a) to go for a "walk".
b) for me to turn on Madonna, her idol.
c) food (her low calorie cat food, because she is body conscious.)
d) to sit on my sewing table and watch me hand stich a fashion.
e) me to turn on Sex and the City, her favorite show.
I went with option E. But I didn't know which episode to pick, because she's seen them all. I chose the series premiere. I put it on the TV in my room (I have all six seasons, and the book, and I had to take her to the movie.) And then, I went back to work.
"Carrie, can you come here?" said my mother, getting ready for an event. I rushed into the living room.
"Can you zip me?" she said, turning around. I zipped her.
"A friend of mine is throwing a party, for like an hour. Dad will be home soon, and I will be back right after the party."
"Okay," I said.
After my mom left, I went back into my room. I heard Sex and the City, but I didn't see Lola. I looked around the apartment in panic. But Lola was gone.