Louise Rennison - Angus, thongs and full-frontal snogging

Tuesday September 15th

4:30 p.m.

Absolutely no sign of SG. However, I have found out some gossip because Katie Steadman’s parents know SG’s parents from some naff card club the really old go to. Apparently he’s called Robbie Jennings – his parents, Mr and Mrs Jennings, own the shop – the so-called greengrocer-cum-delicatessen, according to Jas. I don’t normally like Katie Steadman that much. She’s OK but I get the impression she thinks I am a bit on the superficial side.

She’s bloody tall, I’ll say that for her, and her hair is nice, but she sort of tries too hard. She puts her hand up in class, for instance. Properly, I mean. She doesn’t do the putting your hand up but leaving it all floppy at the end of your arm, so it just flaps around. That is the sign of someone who is obliged to put their hand up because that is the fascist way, but isn’t really putting their hand up. I have taken to putting my hand up and pointing one finger forward – you know, like at football matches when everyone points at a chubby player and chants, “Who ate all the pies?” But as usual any sign of humour is stamped down in this place. Hawkeye said, “Georgia, if you are too tired to put your hand up properly perhaps you should go to bed earlier... or perhaps a few thousand lines might strengthen your wrist?”

I may try it out on Herr Kamyer – we have him for German and physics, which is the only bright spot in this hell-hole. He has the double comedy value of being both German and the only male teacher in an all girls’ school.

8:00 p.m.

Listening to classical music, I thought it might be soothing, but it’s really irritating and has no proper tune.

8:05 p.m.

I love life!!! Jas has just phoned to say we’ve been invited to a party at Katie Steadman’s and... Katie has asked Tom and Robbie. YESSSSS!!!! I must have done a good job of being nice to Katie. WHAT ON EARTH CAN I WEAR??? Emergency, emergency! It’s only a couple of weeks away.

8:10 p.m.

I’d better do my yoga.

8:15 p.m.

I’d better start applying face masks now.

8:20 p.m.

I wonder if I slept with a peg on my nose, like Amy in Little Women, if it would make it smaller? Why couldn’t Mum choose someone with a normal sized hooter to marry?

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