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Roberta Olsen Major
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Pep squad drop-out.
Barbaraâ€™s giving the high school speech team a try this yearâ€”but sheâ€™s burned out on practices before the school year even starts!
Maybe pom-poms arenâ€™t so bad after allâ€¦.
I took one last look in the mirror and dredged up a massive sigh, a sigh that, like Helen of Troyâ€™s face, could have launched a thousand ships.
Unlike my face.
Not that itâ€™s a bad face. A little on the round side maybe, but thatâ€™s genetics, not chocolate doughnuts. Brown eyes. Naturally straight teeth, which is good. Naturally straight hair, which is not so good.
No extra eyeballs or stray nose hairs. The occasional zit, but nothing of epic proportions.
All in all, a perfectly acceptable face. Nothing special. Nothing thatâ€™ll be launching a thousand ships any time in the immediate future. If ever.
Nothing like Elaine Duncanâ€™s face.
Donâ€™t get me wrong. Elaine isnâ€™t perfect.
Itâ€™s just that everybody thinks she is.
I mean, her thighs are a little heavy, but with that thick wavy black hair and those deep blue eyes, her flawless taste in clothes, unfailing sense of humor, brains, confidence, and genuine niceness, who the heck bothers to criticize, much less even notice, her thighs?
Ever since I got to know Elaine two summers ago, when we both signed up for a three-week theatre camp at the college, Iâ€™ve wanted to be just like her: the style, the humor, the brains, the confidence, the niceness. The whole enchilada.
At first I thought maybe a hair cut and dye job would be a good place to start, but my imagination, one of the few things I have thatâ€™s truly excellent, kept me from creating a Red Cross level disaster. Elaineâ€™s hair on my head would have been really awful.
In the battle between cosmetology and genetics, genetics wins every time.
Itâ€™s not that my hair is exactly bad. Itâ€™s just that itâ€™s straight. And brown. Nothing dramatic. Nothing stylish. Nothing special.
And thatâ€™s me, Barbara Louise Jensen, in a nutshell.
So why, on my first day as a junior at Travis High School, did I even bother looking at myself in the mirror? Sure, I had the skirt and matching top and the classic Elaine Duncan shoes, but isnâ€™t there a saying somewhere about making a silk purse out of a sowâ€™s ear?
"Why couldnâ€™t it still be yesterday?" I muttered.
At least yesterday all I had to worry about was Andy.
Roberta Olsen Major wore out two toy typewriters as a child before her parents decided it would be more frugal to provide her with the real thing. Throughout junior high and high school, she used two fingers to tap out lurid, angst-filled stories peopled with impossibly beautiful characters speaking highly improbable dialogue.
After earning a BA from Brigham Young University, she worked as a librarian in sensible shoes, before switching her Major to the care and feeding of a scientific husband and two charming children.
A published playwright and reviewer of childrenâ€™s books, she now lives in Texas, where she collects dust, gets taken for daily walks by her faithful Schnauzers, and is, as always, working on her next book.
The Ice Cream Crone: "â€¦a galloping romp of hilarity on a quest of pure enjoyment. Roberta Olsen Major delights her readers with wit, puns, and good old sillinessâ€¦ filled with the perfect combination of chivalry and jovialityâ€¦ Life, love and the pursuit of laughter reignâ€¦â€ --Joyce Handzo, In the Library Reviews, October 10, 2003
The Ice Cream Crone: "â€¦ takes â€˜happily ever afterâ€™ a hop, skip and a jump farther, leading the child in us all on a merry romp through â€˜what ifâ€™.â€ -- Pam Ripling, author of Locker Shock!
Book Publisher: Wings e Press
No. of Pages: 138
Paper Weight (lb): 6.2