Planet Janet in Orbit

by Dyan Sheldon

  TUESDAY 11 SEPTEMBER

  Had to go to the library after school to return some books from last term. (What a palaver! Mrs Higgle actually came into English AFTER ME! Everyone was shocked. I don’t think any of us have ever seen her OUTSIDE the library before!) Anyway, when I came out, Catriona was walking towards the main gate with Mr Plaget. I could tell she was still banging on about rice paddies at sunset because of the glazed look in his eyes. Mr Plaget saw me and asked if I’d had a good summer. (I reckoned it was a case of Janet to the rescue!) Normally I would’ve told him I’d had a v crap summer and was excruciatingly grateful to the State for giving me something to do other than work my toes NUMB, but since he was with Catriona I lied and said it was ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT.

  Suggested to Disha that we have a really mega joint party to celebrate our birthdays (she’s 22 October and I’m 27 October) since seventeen’s practically eighteen (and eighteen’s just a step away from twenty-one, so it’s something to make a big deal of). Especially if Buskin’ Bob is right about the state of the world. If things are as bad as he says, there may not be anything to celebrate by the time we’re twenty-one. I also pointed out that it would be a perfect opportunity to introduce Ethan to everybody in a relaxed and casual way. She said he’d probably have to work that weekend. (So as well as being in Love she’s psychic, since no one actually picked a date!) She said anyway, she just wants to celebrate quietly with Ethan!!! I said hang on, what about me? We always do something together. She said not to be like that. I said like what? And she said YOU KNOW (but I don’t, of course!). [Note to self: Isn’t it ASTOUNDING how small the world gets when your brain’s been fried by love?] So I’m having the party on my own. I’m going to invite EVERYBODY (even people I loathe, like Catriona Hendley). And since it’s so near to Hallowe’en I’m going to make it a fancy-dress party. The MC will only give me a pittance towards it, of course, so I’ll have to hit the Justin bank to get everything I’ll need. Does a day pass when I don’t THANK GOD that my brother’s gone to Mexico? Only when the Deadly Duo stay over.

  WEDNESDAY 12 SEPTEMBER

  BIG NEWS at the Institution! The school’s been given a whack of lottery money and some of it’s going to the school magazine because Mr Cardogan – the head, otherwise known as Old Woolly Jumper – feels that there should be more to education than textbooks and tests (which is more than the government does!). So now, instead of coming out once a year, it’ll come out every MONTH like a proper journal. Ms Staples says this will mean a lot of work and ENORMOUS dedication, but she knows that we can do it. We’re having a meeting Friday afternoon to plan the layout, etc. Have decided that despite my many academic pressures I’m going to volunteer for either Editor-in-Chief or Fiction Editor. Ms Staples wanted to know if I’d written any more stories over the holiday and I told her I’d moved into poetry because I feel it’s more emotionally direct. She said she can’t wait to read some of my poems. Since I haven’t exactly written a whole poem yet, I said they’re still too rough to show.

  THURSDAY 13 SEPTEMBER

  Not only has Love destroyed Disha Paski’s ability to socialize and choose her own clothes, but it’s badly affected her investigative skills as well. She didn’t get ANYTHING out of Lila. She told Lila all about being in love with Ethan and then v casually mentioned that she’d heard Catriona was also in love. Lila wanted to know where she heard that. Disha said around. Lila said it was news to her. This is such INCREDIBLY UNTYPICAL LILA BEHAVIOUR that I can only assume there is something REALLY wrong with this bloke. Disha said maybe Lila was telling the truth and there isn’t any bloke. Maybe I mistook what Catriona said. I said there was nothing to mistake in MUMMY AND DADDY WILL KILL ME IF THEY FIND OUT. I said since the Hendleys are media people and très liberal and all, I reckon this could mean that he’s either MUCH OLDER (like over twenty) or even that he’s MARRIED! Disha said not to get carried away. She said there could be dozens of reasons why Catriona doesn’t think her parents would approve. I said like what? He’s got two heads? He’s an arms dealer? He’s in prison? She said no – maybe he’s a squatter or a protestor or a Womble or an anarchist or something like that. Catriona does like to think of herself as being v cutting edge, doesn’t she? I said A WOMBLE? A Womble’s a fictional character that lives on Clapham Common. She said not that kind of Womble, the kind that wears a white boiler suit and goes to all the anti-globalization demos. (I could ask Buskin’ Bob for more details on this, of course, but I don’t like to encourage him.)

  SATURDAY 15 SEPTEMBER

  If the truly Creative Soul is destined to suffer then I must be the reincarnation of Leonardo da Vinci or someone like that, because I’ve certainly got the suffering bit down! Wait till you hear what’s happened NOW!!! We had this GINORMOUS meeting yesterday about what sort of magazine we want to have and what we’re going to call it and put in it, etc. (We’re calling it Speak Out! The Students’ Voice and we decided that it has to have a popular side as well as a cultural one or it’ll just end up underneath budgie poo.) After we decided all that, Ms Staples wanted to know if anyone was interested in the V DEMANDING job of Editor-in-Chief. Catriona Hendley’s hand shot up like it’d been fired from a missile launcher. Not only did Catriona want it, but she’d actually written a statement of Editorial Policy AND jotted down a few ideas (three pages of them!!!). Ms Staples said she was impressed by Catriona’s organizational skills (being able to put on her make-up AND rule the world at the same time) and gave her the job. I could’ve argued, of course, but I decided to let Catriona have it. I don’t want to waste all my precious time ORGANIZING, mine is a creative not a managerial spirit, after all. I thought I might take the post of Fiction Editor instead but while I was still mulling it over, Ms Staples gave it to Flynn! So I volunteered to have my own column (which I reckon is almost as good as being an editor – maybe even better really since you don’t have to read a lot of other people’s work). I said I’d been thinking of doing a series of humorous articles on working as a waiter, which would give my fellow students a good laugh as well as a vivid idea of what it’s like in the world of the Wage Slave (and would make them as happy as I am not to be part of it). Ms Staples thought it was a brilliant idea but reckoned that it’s more a single article than a series. She said she wants me to be the main feature writer. That way I can do timely articles and interviews as well as humorous pieces. I know she meant this as a compliment and all, but being the main feature writer isn’t the same as being one of the editors or a regular columnist. I mean, I don’t get to make any decisions or tell anybody what to do, I just get to WORK. Ms Staples said a magazine is NOTHING without good writers. Big deal, right? I mean, the world is nothing without the people who clear the rubbish and sweep the streets, but you never hear about them, do you? All you hear about is the people who boss them around and make all the money. It’s the same with history. History’s all about kings and queens and generals – not about the people who built the palaces or did all the work in them or actually had their limbs blown off, etc., fighting the wars. I mean, you never see a blue plaque for a cook or a cleaner or the maid who emptied the bedpans, and yet what would’ve happened without them? (The Royal Family and their friends would’ve starved to death or died of the stench, that’s what would’ve happened!) I thanked Ms Staples and said I’d think it over.

  SUNDAY 16 SEPTEMBER

  Disha stayed over last night. She wasn’t here ten minutes when she decided she’d better text Ethan to tell him where she was. I said I thought her mobe had gone in the loo. She just blew all her savings on a new one, as it’s IMPOSSIBLE to be in Love and be tied to a landline. She said just think about it. If Romeo and Juliet had had mobes, they would never have killed themselves. I said it was more likely that they’d never’ve got together in the first place because she would’ve been talking all the time. So the girls’ night in was periodically disturbed by him texting her or her texting him. Then, as per usual, he rang her at midnight after his shift. After a few hours of listening to
them cooing at each other, I asked her to go to the bathroom to talk to him so I could get some sleep. If you ask me, Love may be great for the person who’s in it, but it sucks for her friends.

  This was the first time Disha met Buskin’ Bob, of course. She thinks he’s rather good-looking. I said and on what planet would that be, precisely? She said no, really. She thinks he’s nice. I said that Love is obviously eating away at her brain (like syphilis)! [Note to self: Can Love be considered a sexually transmitted disease?!!] She said I’m just being defensive, which is understandable since I don’t like the idea of some other man replacing my father (which isn’t true – I’d be DELIGHTED if Harrison Ford replaced him). Disha said at least Buskin’ Bob cooks and stuff like that. I said just because he knows how to wash up doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his dark side. Let’s not forget that his first wife booted him out. Disha said Sigmund’s first wife booted him out too.

  MONDAY 17 SEPTEMBER

  I think Ms Staples must’ve noticed that I was a bit unhappy about not having a fixed position on the mag, because she took me aside after English today. She said she’d been thinking of ways to give the magazine more popular appeal and she thought she’d come up with something. (For one wild moment I thought she was going to dump Catriona, but – sadly – that wasn’t it.) She wondered how I’d feel about doing a Personal Advice Column. I said I’d never thought about anything like that because Fiction’s my thing, of course. Ms Staples said that’s what makes me PERFECT for the job. She reckons that with my writer’s empathy and my sense of humour I’ll be able to write a column that gives sound advice and is entertaining at the same time. I admitted that I’ve DEFINITELY had my share of problems in the last year (and probably someone else’s!), so I do have plenty of experience in suffering and angst. On the other hand, even though my father’s a psychoanalyst, I never really listen to him, so I don’t really know the theories, etc. Ms Staples says that isn’t necessary. This is a school magazine not The Observer. And she thinks that the people who know all the theories don’t necessarily know what goes on with people any more than the rest of us. I said that’s v true of my father – most of the time he knows even less. Ms Staples says all I need to do is be SENSIBLE. Which, of course, I always am. The more I think about it, the more the idea appeals to me. After all, I am EXTREMELY qualified for the job because of my family and my almost-broken hearts, etc. – and it should be good practice for my mission to bring the MC and Sigmund back together as well! Also, it isn’t going to be too strenuous (answering a couple of letters), so it won’t interfere with my own Creative work. I’m going to call it HELP! and my name’s going to be Aunt Know-It-All (which is both funny and serious). Ms Staples said it’s v important that I keep my anonymity, so she and I are the only ones who’ll know who Aunt Know-It-All really is. I can’t even tell Disha! (This would’ve been a problem a few months ago, but since I hardly see her and the only thing she’s interested in is the Wizard, it’s as easy as eating a packet of crisps!) Spent most of tonight writing my request for problems. See what you think of this:

  Stressed out? Depressed? Picked on? Nagged? Misunderstood? Worried? Insecure? Do your parents ignore you? Your friends take you for granted? Your teachers give you a hard time? Do you find the world difficult to understand? Well, weep no more! HELP! has arrived!!! No matter what your problem – be it a lost love or a few gained pounds – Aunt Know-It-All will show you how to solve it. Send your questions or even just your general thoughts about life on our planet to Aunt Know-It-All c/o Speak Out ! The Students’ Voice. Auntie K is here for YOU!

  Since I’m not Catriona Hendley, I don’t want to boast, but I do think it’s pretty good. Showed it to the MC (I don’t reckon she counts as telling). As per usual, she was as supportive and encouraging as an attack of fighter jets. She said TALK ABOUT THE BLIND LEADING THE BLIND! Personally I thought that was a bit harsh. After all, even SHE has admitted that I’ve matured a lot over the last year (thanks to the Dark Phase and Male Duplicity). Also I AM a teenager. If you were a teenager, who would you rather get advice from – ME or someone who can’t even remember what it feels like to be FORTY?

  TUESDAY 18 SEPTEMBER

  I got to school early this morning so I could run off my flyers and put them up before classes started. And were all my efforts rewarded? Is there a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? The answer to both those questions is NO. When I went to collect my post this afternoon there wasn’t ONE LETTER for Aunt Know-It-All!!! As accustomed as I am to the DISAPPOINTMENTS of Life, I couldn’t believe it. I really thought I’d have to hire a cab to get them all home! Ms Staples said I have to give my potential readers a chance. Like at least overnight.

  The MC was out tonight, as per usual, so I invited Sigmund in for a cup of tea. After we exhausted the topics of the weather, school and his flat, he wanted to know how everything was going. I said oh, fine, just fine – quietly and rather sadly as though I wanted to spare him the really bad news. With the instincts of the professional psychoanalyst, Sigmund immediately asked me what was wrong. I said, “Nothing.” He said, “You can tell me; I’m your father.” I sighed and looked v reluctant. And then I said it was just that the MC and I had been talking about how different the flat is without him. (This is technically true. She was banging on about missing Justin – which, if you ask me, is like missing a migraine – and how the house didn’t feel the same with him gone, and I said AND SIGMUND TOO and she more or less nodded.) Sigmund said, “Really?” I said yes. I said the MC seemed très sad. He looked a bit misty at that, though he said it was because the tea was too strong.

  WEDNESDAY 19 SEPTEMBER

  Still no letters! What’s wrong with the students in this school? Are they all on Prozac? Everybody knows that this is meant to be one of the most traumatic and stressful times of a person’s life. You can’t open a paper or magazine without reading some terrifying tale of teenage suffering and woe. The pressure … the changes … the insecurities … the fear … the doubt … the raging hormones!!! If you believe the Sunday supplement, at least half of us are thinking of hurling ourselves off the nearest bridge!!! But not at my school. From the OVERWHELMING LACK OF RESPONSE I’ve had, you’d think my classmates were all in nursery school with nothing to worry about but lunch. Don’t any of them go home and cry? Don’t any of them lie awake all night in the dark listening to Led Zeppelin? Don’t any of them go home and read the colour supplements? They can’t all have perfect families. They can’t all be happy with their bodies. They can’t all be accepted by their peers. It’s ABSOLUTELY impossible that every alcoholic, addicted, abusive and sociopathic parent in the country lives OUTSIDE OF LONDON!!! I mean, really, what are the odds? Ms Staples said it’s still too early to panic. She said after all, there’s a lot going on in the world and even teenagers have more to think about than themselves. As proof that I do listen to what people say (even Buskin’ Bob!) I pointed out that there’s always a lot going on in the world. I said aside from the constant warfare and injustice, etc., between 30,000 and 35,000 children died every day of preventable causes related to poverty, but it’s never stopped anyone from worrying about their hair or whether their hips are too big. I said I didn’t really have A BIT OF TIME, did I? The first issue comes out in a month!

  Was so upset that I confided in Flynn (I don’t reckon telling him counts any more than telling the MC since he’s a boy and therefore limits his verbal communications to only what is necessary). Flynn said not to worry. If the fiction submissions are anything to go by, I’ll be drowning in letters by the end of the week. He said Catriona alone has already submitted SIX poems for the first issue of the magazine, most of which must’ve been written on her holiday since there’s a lot about beaches and sunsets over the rice paddies. He wanted to know where my poem is. I said I was working on it.

  As part of my plan to reconcile the parents I had a little chat with the MC tonight. Got her laughing by reminding her of the time Sigmund set fire to the deckchair when he was doing h
is annual barbecue. She said only Sigmund could burn a deckchair in the rain. I reckoned I heard an affectionate note in her voice, so I told her Sigmund really missed her and said he was hoping they’d get back together someday. She laughed and said well, you never can tell, can you? Let’s not forget The Restoration!!! I consider that v hopeful!

  THURSDAY 20 SEPTEMBER

  Catriona reminded me that the deadline for copy for the magazine is in two weeks and she hopes I’m planning to write something. What about my idea about being a waiter? She really thought that could be v droll. She said she’s often thought of doing a job like that just to see what it’s like. She said that since she intends to be a journalist she feels that sort of experience would be good to help her identify with The People. I asked what she meant. The People WHO WORK? Catriona said my sense of humour is just what the mag needs and that it would be A CRYING SHAME if I didn’t have something in the very first issue. I explained that I have a lot on my plate at the moment, and also that I feel there are more important things in the world than a high-school magazine. I asked her if she had any idea how many children die every day of poverty-related causes, and she said 33,000, but none of them were from round here.

  After school Marcus helped me make my birthday invitations on his computer. I brought along a photo of me when I was just born to work into the design. Marcus said he always knew I must’ve been a beautiful baby. I said all babies are beautiful. We put the baby picture at the top and over it we wrote: FROM THIS … and under it we wrote: TO THIS … And under that we put a photo Marcus took of me this afternoon. Then at the bottom we wrote: COME CELEBRATE SEVENTEEN YEARS OF PROGRESS AT JANET BANDRY’S COSMIC COSTUME BIRTHDAY BASH. Then Marcus did something with the computer and put stars and moons and comets, etc. all over. I think it’s ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT! I know my party’s not till the end of October, but I don’t want to do it all at the LAST MINUTE (the way the MC always does). If I give out the invitations now, everyone will have plenty of time to respond and I’ll have plenty of time to prepare (and Ethan will have plenty of time to arrange his work schedule!).