Flipping through the tormented yet ironic reflections of some dumb girl’s high-school confessional is like turning the dusty pages of my old year-book. There is the nostalgia and the embarrassment, but mainly there is the realization that, through no action of my own, I am all grown up. For me, some dumb girl is like a historical document that can keep me in touch with my long past high-school insecurities. Of course, there is really only one issue for the some dumb girl and that is: some dumb boy-friend. (“and when I am at work I sit on that stool behind that desk for hours [layaway is not very busy] and I think of you and I get paid $7.20 an hour.”) Although some dumb girl can go a little over-board in depicting her romantic despair, she cannot be blamed; it is only after the year-book has been long forgotten that we begin to rein in the lubricous confusion our tender minds were subject to every adolescent instant.
‘zine / no known publisher / main creator: some dumb girl / $1 / 8 Louis Ave., St. Catharines ON, L2M 2N5