The Autobiography of Jane Lane: Daria Morgendorffer's Boudoir

I knew that Daria was completely twisted the first time I met her in Mr. O'Neill's class. I was sitting through Mr. O'Neill's seventh version of his self-esteem class. Out of all the students in all seven classes, all of whom had low self-esteem, she was the only one to call out O'Neill on his bullshit. He had that panicky look in his eyes and I knew we could have some fun.

So I poked her. She really wanted to know what he was talking about. I told her I had taken the class six times already. Most of the kids freak out when they know that I've been there multiple times. I told one guy that I had been there four times and he completely flipped. He just turned around and didn't move a muscle for the rest of the lecture. By the way, I never saw him again. I like to think that somewhere in this twisted world he's taking remedial self-esteem on a cool Pacific island where they serve coconut juice during beachfront lectures on self-esteem.

Daria called me on it. "Well tell me," she said, "I want to know."

So I told her. Do you ever get to the point where you can actually finish each other's sentences? That's the way it was with Daria. She was weird and freaky. She saw all the same stuff I saw. She was a Sick Sad World devotee. We liked the same movies. Daria had scoped out Lawndale High and she thought they were all retards, too. We were amigas from Day One.

So you probably ask yourself, "What were you doing in esteem class so many times?" Conceptual art. Looking for geeks and weirdos, my own kind. I figured that anyone cool would end up in Li's self-esteem gulag. The very first day I made it to Lawndale High, I took the test that Mrs. Manson gave and gave my artistic interpretations of the ink blots. Got sent right to Mr. O'Neill. Didn't even pass "Go". (They gave Trent that same test. He didn't get sent to Mr. O'Neill's class, but they tested him for narcolepsy.)

I found that multiple self-esteem classes had other advantages. I wasn't doing well in school, because I just didn't give a damn. O'Neill had a soft spot for "troubled kids" and I figured I could earn troubled kid points just by showing up multiple times. By the end of the sixth class, I was getting "B"s just for showing up to class and breathing in and out.

Another problem was that Lawndale High was too damn close to Casa Lane. I would have to walk to school. I didn't know anyone at Lawndale and the people I knew I didn't like and didn't trust. I sure as hell didn't want to walk home with any of them. So I just stayed longer. I didn't know Ms. Defoe then. I was a freshman. Self-esteem class gave me an excuse to hang around Lawndale High after everyone had left.

High schools are cooler when they're abandoned. You can do all kinds of stuff. I went to the Social Studies center and wrote on the inside covers of the new books. A lot of freshmen are going to get some weird advice at the beginning of the year. They still use those books, because Li's too damn cheap to buy new ones.

Okay. I didn't say anything about Daria. Dammit, you're supposed to be interested in me, anyway, sweet and sexy Jane Lane. I'm jealous, you goddamned bastards. And I saw that movie where that crazy bitch killed that rabbit. Watch your backs!