by Dyan Sheldon
The Mad Cow’s having dinner with Sappho and Mags, Sigmund’s grouping (left-handed red-headed dyslexic unwed fathers with one blue eye probably), and Justin’s gone out, leaving me grandmother-sitting, AS PER USUAL. Fortunately Nan’s nodded off in front of the telly, so now’s my chance to dye my combats without her telling me how Jesus would do it.
MONDAY 12 FEBRUARY
Found the roses Marcus and Flynn brought under the table in the hall, still in their wrappers but already withered and dead. Love and Death. I reckon they’re the two greatest themes in art and literature – as well as in life. And it made me realize how short life really is. We are all born to die (I don’t know if some poet wrote that line before I did, but I think it’s pretty good). At least the roses had their moments of beauty. (That’s more than my mother ever had!) I took a couple of petals to press in my diary, and then I chucked them in the bin.
Last night I dreamed that I was at this barbecue (like in Texas or somewhere like that). There were whole cows turning over the coals. And you should’ve seen the burgers! They looked like meteors! I was sweating when I woke up. It’s weeks since I became a vegetarian, and all I’ve had besides vegetables is fish and chicken (and that little bit of mince). And my parents think I don’t stick to anything!
There must be something wrong with the washing machine. The combats didn’t exactly come out the way I thought. The trousers are brilliant, but the stitching didn’t take the dye, so I’ve got these really cool BLACK trousers with almost WHITE stitching. It is v passé. And not exactly my image.
TUESDAY 13 FEBRUARY
The Mad Cow nearly got arrested in the supermarket for nicking a birthday card that somebody left in her trolley (at least that’s her story!!!). Apparently there was a MEGA scene with the manager, and HUNDREDS of shoppers were standing around watching. Sigmund said considering how much money she spends there each week they should be giving her BOXES of free cards, not persecuting her. The MC said it was nice of him to take her side for a change, and they nearly got into another row. (I’m beginning to think that rowing’s what they do instead of having sex.) Justin said the MC was really unlucky to get the only conscious security guard in London. Nan said she should sue for defamation of character (which, let’s face it, would be REALLY hard to prove). The MC says she can never go back there again, in case somebody recognizes her. I told her not to worry about that since nobody remembers what women her age look like. And then she got angry with ME!!! She says she hopes she’s still alive when I’m her age so at least she can die laughing.
D reckons I can cover up the white stitching on the combats with a laundry marker. If you ask me, she should consider a career in fashion. She has a real talent.
VALENTINE’S DAY
To celebrate this day of Love the boys who sit at the back in Mrs Gumpta’s maths class let loose a bunch of inflated rainbow-coloured condoms while Mrs G was writing on the board. She thought they were balloons. It was excruciatingly hilarious. Disha said you could bet that if we’d had Mr Plaget he would’ve known what they were!
I GOT MY FIRST VALENTINE! It was waiting for me when I got home this afternoon. It’s one of those really naff ones with a red satin heart trimmed with lace. I love it! I put it on my bureau so the Mad Cow will see it when she patrols my room and know that someone loves me. That should wind her up. Here she is, finishing her life as a woman, and I’m just about to begin mine. Dare I hope that my secret valentine is Elvin? Was that moment when he smiled at me in Disha’s kitchen the moment when he thought, I think I’m Falling in Love with Jan?
THURSDAY 15 FEBRUARY
So what’s the FIRST thing I see when I get to school this morning? Nothing less than Catriona Hendley and Flynn Cabot chatting nonchalantly just inside the gate!!! Were they discussing their valentine cards, one wonders? I gave them both a BIG greeting and Flynn got a distinctly pink tinge to his complexion, as though I’d come across them snogging or something. Naturally I acted like I didn’t notice. Flynn did eat lunch with us, but I’m sure it was just to divert suspicion. He was definitely preoccupied, and even though Marcus had the rest of us in stitches, Flynn hardly cracked a smile.
Since neither of them got a valentine, Willow came round with a bottle of sparkling Chardonnay for her and the MC after supper. It didn’t help the MC’s mood any, though. She was all sarky because I was babysitting the twins (as per usual!) and wanted to know if Mrs Kennedy (or That Woman as she’s taken to calling her) ever stayed home. I said what happened to female solidarity and being supportive of single mothers? I rolled my eyes at Willow and she acted like she didn’t see, but when I was leaving she pretended she wanted to check that Jupiter hadn’t levelled the living-room or murdered Nan or anything and she followed me to the door. She said I had to try to be a little understanding of my poor mother because this was a v difficult time for her. So even Willow’s noticed that the MC’s going through the CHANGE (from human to witch, obviously!).
The MC must’ve gone round to Willow’s for more wine, because she wasn’t in the flat when I got home from Mrs Kennedy’s. Nan was asleep at the kitchen table. She’s not getting older; she’s turning into a cat. No matter where you put her, she nods off. Even in the middle of supper (though not before she’s said grace)! Disha says it’s better than her grandmother. Her grandmother doesn’t remember anything unless it happened seventy years ago. She calls Disha Paula and is always asking her if she liked the chocolates.
FRIDAY 16 FEBRUARY
Caught Flynn and the Hendley with their heads together in the library today!!! Made a point of going over to say hello. Did Flynn look EMBARRASSED or what? He gave me some crap about history homework. Yeah, right. Like I was born yesterday.
It’s easy enough for Willow to say I should be understanding of my poor mother during her difficult time. She doesn’t have to live with her. The Mad Cow had another major trauma attack tonight because her whites came out grey. Sigmund and Justin had vanished, as per usual, and Nan was passed out in front of the telly (also as per usual), so she came straight for me. She wanted to know what I’d been doing in the washing machine. “Nothing,” I said. “Washing clothes.” She started waving a finger in front of my face. Hysterically. “Then what’s this, Janet? What’s this?” she kept shrieking. It was black dye. She said if this was my clever way of getting out of doing my own laundry, I could forget it. She suggested I read ALL instructions before I did anything. She said if it EVER happened again, she was going to send me to Indonesia to work in a factory until I’d earned enough to buy a new machine. She reckons it would take till I’m thirty.
Everybody else had spaghetti bolognese for supper tonight, but all I had was a cheese sandwich because Nan threw out the soya mince. She thought it was dog food and we don’t have a dog. How is it possible that I’m related to these people? I hope I’m not getting anaemic.
Found myself in the kitchen with my parents’ other child tonight. I was ignoring him as usual when he suddenly told me I should give the MC a break. I said what? Her leg? Her arm? Her neck? He said it’s not a joke. Can’t I see the state she’s in? I said it would be pretty hard for me to miss it, since I’m the one who gets most of her shit. Thank God, our conversation got cut short by Sigmund barging in, looking for the corkscrew (the MC was over at Willow’s again so he couldn’t ask her). Justin didn’t even look at him; he just mumbled something about it being about time that I joined the human race, and left the room.
SATURDAY 17 FEBRUARY
I woke up this morning looking like I’d been bitten by the King Kong of mosquitoes. My whole nose is red now. And swollen! The Mad Cow says it’s infected and made me take the ring out. Thank God it’s half-term or I might end up going to school with a bag over my head like Katie Jamers did that time she dyed her hair pink and her father went INSANE and SHAVED IT ALL OFF! The Dippy Hippy gave me one of her herbal remedies for my nose. At least it smells OK.
Since looking like something deformed has made it impossible for me to go out
in daylight, I read another couple of pages of The Outsider and did some yoga. I was feeling in a pretty reflective mood after that, so I wrote a poem about being Here while everyone else is There. Disha said it was v deep, which is what I thought. So maybe it was important for my nose to go septic for me to assimilate what the DP has taught me so far.
SUNDAY 18 FEBRUARY (Sara Dancer’s advice about locked doors proves prophetic!!!)
Three Reasons Why I Hate My Brother:
(1) He’s ugly and stupid.
(2) He tore up my best colouring book when I was four.
(3) This afternoon I was practising yoga to my new CD (the chanting does help, though there’s a bit when they suddenly start blowing trumpets and banging cymbals that comes as a surprise the first time you hear it) when the stereo just stopped playing. I wasn’t going to go through all the bother of finding a new fuse and putting it in and all that, so, since the Biggest Argument for Abortion wasn’t home, I went to his room (otherwise known as the Black Hole) to borrow his stereo, which is like going into a house where someone’s just died of bubonic plague. His room isn’t just untidy – it SMELLS. I couldn’t see his stereo, so, holding my nose and trying not to gag or touch anything with my skin, I started kicking piles of clothes aside. And what do you think I found? MY LEOPARD-PRINT BRA!!! That’s what I found!!! Are you revolted? Multiply that by about a trillion and you’ll know how I felt! I picked it up with my sleeve and brought it downstairs to show the Mad Cow. (I don’t want to think about what he was doing with it!) The MC was less than horrified. She said there’s probably nothing unhealthy about it (there is for ME!), and that Sigmund will “have a word with Justin”. Well, that should help. (Sigmund never has less than a thousand words with anyone, and Justin will stop listening completely after “talk to you”.) And also she refuses to buy me a new bra. She says I’m being melodramatic and I should just wash it. She says it probably just got mixed up in the laundry, which is another good reason why we should each do our own. I may have to burn it.
There must be more to Willow’s picking-wild-sage-when-the-moon-is-full routine than I thought. The swelling’s gone down and my nose has stopped aching.
Disha was suitably AGHAST when I told her what Geek Boy did. She says it just proves that you never really know anyone, not even the people who are closest to you. There are always depths. D says it’s sort of scary when you realize that EVERYBODY has a secret, inner life. I said not everybody. As the child of Robert and Jocelyn Bandry I can say that with CERTAINTY. And as far as Justin goes, I don’t know if I consider nicking my bra a DEPTH exactly, even if it is true that I wasn’t expecting it. It’s more like a Cesspool of Shallowness.
MONDAY 19 FEBRUARY (Half-term. Can I use the break? Do I need to breathe?)
Sigmund made Justin apologize for nicking my bra. If you count uttering one word (“Sorry”) from behind a camera an apology. Justin said it was Andrew’s idea. (Andrew is the fourth reason why I hate my brother.) According to Justin, they just wanted to see how it worked. What for? Are they planning to wear one? I’m going to make a list of every bra I own so I can check whether any go missing in the future.
The Mad Cow and Nan were all atwitter when I got home from Disha’s this afternoon. I reckoned there must’ve been another excruciatingly exciting incident in the supermarket, so I wasn’t really paying attention till I heard Nan say that she thought it might be a good idea if we set up a neighbourhood watch. Nan said she doesn’t know what the world’s coming to. In her day (like she can remember that far back!) people looked out for each other and knew how to take care of themselves. I thought Sigmund must’ve had another car stereo nicked (number five!), but it turned out that Mr Burl next door was robbed. Somebody took his scooter last Saturday night! My mobe was charging, so I raced to the kitchen phone to tell Disha that we’d actually witnessed a robbery in progress. Disha said hadn’t she said Mr Burl looked like he’d lost some weight? I said no. (I certainly don’t remember that.) She thought maybe the police would want to question us. The only person who wanted to question me was the Mad Cow. She’d been listening to my whole conversation, of course (I couldn’t have less privacy if I lived in a doorway). The MC was HORRIFIED that I actually saw someone going off with Mr Burl’s bike and didn’t say anything. I asked her what she wanted me to say. Anyway, how was I meant to know it wasn’t Mr Burl going for a moonlit ride? It was dark. She said she hoped I realized that at some point in time I was going to have to take up residence on Earth, and advised me against going into any career that required even an insignificant amount of thought.
TUESDAY 20 FEBRUARY
Another v interesting day!!! Went shopping for general maintenance supplies (shampoo, conditioner etc.), and who should I spy with my little eye but Mr and Mrs Hendley’s only daughter with the youngest son of Mr and Mrs Cabot! They were coming out of the record shop near the tube. They weren’t holding hands, but they were walking V CLOSE!!! I really am a creature of impulse, because I suddenly decided to follow them. They strolled along just looking in windows for a bit, and then they went into Woolies, Agent Bandry right behind them. Woolies was crowded and it wasn’t easy to keep them in sight and stay out of sight at the same time. I was sidling past the kitchen stuff when I realized Flynn and Catriona weren’t the only ones being followed!!! I was being closely observed by a youngish man in a Nike sweatshirt. I dived down the sweets aisle, and he popped up at the other end. I knew instantly that it wasn’t lust or anything like that, though. He had undercover security guard written all over him. The last thing I wanted was to follow in the footsteps of Jocelyn Bandry and get accused of shoplifting. Especially with the Hendley about (spreading sensational news stories is in her blood after all). I suppose I could simply have left, but I didn’t think of that until later. Instead I was attacked by genius once again! I went straight to the manager and told him a pervert was following me around the store. Naturally, the manager didn’t want to admit that it was the store detective, so we got into a v intense discussion. Perhaps acting is my real calling, because I definitely got into my role of Victimized and Innocent Young Woman Alone. The manager finally offered me a five-pound gift voucher to appease me, which I generously accepted. The downside was that by the time I returned to my quarry they were gone. Decided to save the voucher for Nan’s birthday.
Came home to find the female parent IN MY ROOM! She was lying on my bed! I was highly indignant, I can tell you. Not only was this a MAJOR breach of my privacy, but her eyes were all red and she was sniffling like she was coming down with something. She’d better not be infecting me with her germs. She said she was taking a break from Nan, but I know her better than that. She knows I got a diary for the winter solstice, and she probably wants to read what I say about her (though I can’t imagine why, since even SHE must realize it isn’t going to be good!). Time for a move!
Sigmund and Nan had an argument tonight. For a change! This one was about war as a method of settling differences. Sigmund doesn’t think it’s what Jesus would do. Nan said the Bible said an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Sigmund said it also said turn the other cheek. Nan stomped off muttering that the Word of God is the Word of God and Sigmund shouted after her, “Even when It contradicts Itself?” The Mad Cow told him if he didn’t stop winding Nan up she was going to kill the two of them. I know she was only kidding, but Disha’s words from the other day came back to haunt me and I stared at her for a few seconds like I’d never seen her before. Maybe D’s right and EVERYBODY – even my mother – has an inner, secret self. Maybe, deep down in her inner, secret self, Jocelyn Bandry (primary school teacher and graduate of the St John Ambulance first aid course) really would kill someone. People do, don’t they? You see it on the news all the time. The neighbours are always well shocked. Usually it’s a man slaughtering his wife and children, but it could go the other way, couldn’t it? And even if the MC’s not a serial killer waiting to happen, lots of housewives go into prostitution for extra money (this is well documented
in films and TV programmes). And there was this suburban wife and mother in America who it turned out was wanted by the FBI for being a terrorist in her youth. I know none of these seem likely for my mother, but it did make me think. I must’ve got lost in my thoughts because she suddenly started shrieking, “And what are you looking at?” So I said I was just wondering if she really had the potential to murder someone and she said not to provoke her. I beat a hasty retreat, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how you never REALLY KNOW ANYONE. It’s all through literature and history. Betrayal. Treachery. Deception. It’s even in comic books and films, for God’s sake! After a while, though, I got really tired and depressed thinking about all this so I went and watched telly with Nan for a while, but her soap was pretty RIFE with betrayal and deception too (who knew the Dark Phase was going to be THIS dark?!!), so I rang Disha. D says Shakespeare was totally obsessed with treachery, betrayal and deception. She says it just proves we really are probing the DEPTHS of human experience. She says now she TOTALLY understands that poem about ignorance being bliss. And I said our Souls must be even Deeper and More Creative than we thought. D agreed. Now I feel oddly at Peace. I reckon we’ve reached another spiritual plateau!!!
WEDNESDAY 21 FEBRUARY
Justin has a black eye. He won’t say how he got it. Probably walking into a lamp-post or something. He’s always hurting himself (last time it was a broken ankle). Not only is he the clumsiest thing on two feet, but he’s practically comatose most of the time. Sigmund said he hoped Justin wasn’t doing anything dangerous. Like what? Eating hamburgers? Crossing against the light? (This isn’t exactly the young Indiana Jones we’re talking about here. Justin hasn’t even ridden a bike since he was hit by a police car.) Nan said thank God he wasn’t hurt worse, and the Mad Cow muttered something about nothing being more important than human life (although I can think of several things that are more important than Justin’s life).
