Good grief, what a fabulous life he leads.
I say we all did a little Viking inferno dance, but Jas didn’t. She is still sulking. I heard her say to Jools that she was exhausted from all of the emotion she had put into her part. I don’t see why, she only stabbed someone and then went on about a spot. Anyway, she left before us, snuggled up to her boyfriend. She was leaning against him as if she were a paralyzed elf. It’s pathetic. She said good-bye to everyone except me.
She won’t be able to ignore me forever.
walking home with the rest of the gang
10:45 p.m.
I refused to get in the Batmobile with my parents. Vati said, “Don’t you want to accelerate through the night in my Lovemobile?”
Urgh good Lord. And he said it in front of everyone. And he is wearing a T-shirt and tight jeans. Is there a book called, How to Be Really Crap? Because if there is, he has got it.
Grandvati insisted on showing the gang his false teeth before we could bundle him onto the bus with his almost completely knitted girlfriend. Even her handbag was knitted.
midnight
When I got in, Mutti had made me a special supper and Libby had decorated my bed. Well, what I mean is, she had on her dressing up fairy clothes and had put tinsel on all her “fwends,” and I do mean all her fwends. Scuba Diving Barbie, Charlie Horse, Pantalitzer’s doll head (which is all there is left of her since Gordy had a spaz attack and ripped her arms off), plus various bits of vegetables. They were all crowded in my bed, waiting for me in a really scary way. Especially as the light was off and when I turned it on, there they all were in the bed. Libby shouted, “Heggo Gingey, SURPRISE!!!”
You’re not kidding. Even Gordy and Angus and Naomi were in there, tied in a shopping bag so that they couldn’t escape.
You try getting your jimjams on with a toddler in wings clinging to your leg.
It’s not easy.
But what is?
sunday july 10th
1:30 p.m.
Let me just say this, never go to the park with a toddler round your waist.
Libby will not leave me alone.
2:00 p.m.
In the end I got up my private tree again just to escape from her. I have got post-performance exhaustosity. If I can just wedge my bum into the bit between two branches I could have a little zizz. Then I heard a scooter engine in the distance getting nearer and nearer. And then I saw it was him, Masimo on his scooter! On the bottom road coming toward my street. Wow. I wonder if he had heard about my outstanding Macduff performance? Shutup shutup.
Oh God, how was I going to get out of the tree without him seeing me? Actually I think my bum was stuck. Oh brilliant. And I didn’t have my lippy on. Oh merde merde merde merde, what should I do? Or maybe it was just a mate’s visit???
At which point Masimo rode right by the bottom of my street without stopping.
Of course he did.
That was my life.
5:00 p.m.
Oh excellent day. Really really excellent in every way. First of all, I am on the rack of love again, eating aggy cakes, with my bum wedged into a tree.
4 mins later
I’ve unwedged myself but I think I have bruised my bum-oley. Then for the pièce de résistance the kittykats really are stuck up the pine tree next door. At the top of it. I saw them messing about on it, doing that all legs at the same time climbing up the trunk. I shouted to them, “Oy you two, get down. Don’t you dare go up that tree.”
And I threw stuff at them. It worked, actually. They both stopped and lay on a branch and looked down at me. Then they did a bit of light bum-oley grooming, and then went back to the all legs at the same time climbing.
Now they were on the top branches swaying about dangerously.
I begged my vati to do something, I said, “They might fall off and die.”
And he said, “Good.”
6:00 p.m.
Eventually the fire brigade were called. You have never seen anything as embarrassing as my mother.
She was practically dribbling as the “boys,” as she called the firemen, got their ladders out. Giggling and saying really stupid things like, “Oh you must have quite strong arms to hold those big hoses.”
I was looking at her, but she ignored me.
In the end she accidentally phoned up her aerobics mates and they all came round to watch the “boys” as well as giggling like a bunch of giggling Gerties. It is soooo shaming.
6:25 p.m.
“Ben,” Mum’s new fireman friend, got to the top of the ladder to try to grab the kittykats to safety. He was reaching out from his big ladder with a net thing, and as he reached out to them, Angus and Gordy stopped shivering and yowling and just scampered merrily down the tree and off into the undergrowth.
Unbelievable.
They are the Devil incarnate in furry trousers.
They had been toying with the firemen.
monday july 11th
Jas had already gone to Stalag 14 when I arrived at her gate.
assembly
And she stood at the other end of the ace gang, not in her usual place next to me.
How long can she keep this up?
This is marathon ignorez vousing.
french
I snuggled up really close to her, but she shifted her chair more and more away from me until she was practically sitting on Ellen’s knee.
p.e.
I said to her, “I like your pants today, Jas.”
She still had her huffy pants on, though.
ace gang headquarters
The ace gang have been on me all day to sing and the world sings with you.
They all want to go to the Stiff Dylans gig on Saturday and they say they can’t go unless I go because it will not be one for all and all for one. Also Rosie is having the practice wedding of her Viking wedding at the gig. She wants to dress up and try out the Viking bison dance. She has got the confetti but fortunately not the vats.
They tried to bribe me with cheesy snacks, which is pathetic.
When I say “they,” I don’t mean Jas, who is still giving me the cold shoulder. This is a world record for her. Four days. I said to her, “Jas, are you going to eschew me with a firm hand forever?”
She didn’t say anything.
Rosie was going, “Come on, Gee, please come to the gig, pleasey please and double please with knobs. Please don’t spoil my big day. You only get married to a Viking and madman once in your life. And, anyway, what else will you be doing? Crying, that is what.”
Jools said, “There might be some really cool boys there.”
I said, “Look, Masimo will be there wanting to be my ‘mate’ and Dave the Laugh will be with stupid old Emma thingy and…”
Uh-oh. Ellen started: “What do you mean, Dave the Laugh will be with Emma—why are you, like, er, bothered by that, I mean, has, er…”
Jas said, “Yeah, what do you mean about Dave the Laugh?”
I fell to my knees. “She speaks, it’s a miracle, she can speak!!! The Good Lord has given her back the power of speech.”
Hahahahah. She couldn’t go back on it, she had asked me a question. She had broken her vow of cold shoulderosity. I won I won!!! (And distracted Ellen from the Dave the Laugh fandango.)
But I was magnaniwhatsit in victory. “I love you, Jazzy, and I am sorry about the ditch incident. But you were being vair vair annoying, my little pally.”
She humped around, but she was sick of not talking to me.
1:30 p.m.
I have agreed to go to the Stiff Dylans gig. BUT the ace gang has got to look after me like little guardey dogs. I said, “If you leave me on my own whilst you all go off snogging, I will resign from the ace gang.”
Rosie said, “This will be a magnificent evening, we will wear our newly liberated horns and show the world that romance lives.”
I said, “Er, I don’t think we need to bother with th
e horns, I mean why don’t we just keep them for the private moments that—”
Rosie said, “Aren’t you proud to wear your horns?”
“Yes, of course, but—”
Rosie put her face very close to mine, “HOOOORRRRNNN!!”
Oh dear God.
We made a solemn ace gang vow. And did a quick rendition of the Viking disco inferno dance. With horns. We have also officially added Jas’s sniffing bit into the disco inferno. Jas looked all thrilled. As we huddly duddlyed down to the floor for the final cry of “Hooorrrrn!!!” Wet Lindsay came by on rounding-up duty.
Her extensions are growing out. Hmm, that’s attractive. Not. She looked at us, we looked up. Her legs are getting thinner, I swear. Perhaps she is on a leg-thinning diet.
She said, “Get up, you idiots. You’re a bloody disgrace, the whole lot of you.”
That’s charming language, isn’t it?
She watched us as we went past her. I was last and she said to me quite quietly, “Don’t think I don’t know all about you. You’re a pathetic, sniveling idiot.”
Oh Blimey O’Reilly’s trousers, she does mean me!!!
german
Wrote a note to Ro Ro:
What if Wet Lindsay is still seeing Masimo and she might be because she has no pridenosity. What if she is with him at the Stiff Dylans gig? I couldn’t handle that.
Ro Ro wrote back:
One for all and all for one. We will think of a tactic if she is with him, but she won’t be. He said that he didn’t want to get serious with anyone. And besides,
Hooooorrrrrrnnnn!!!
What is she talking about?
Should I go or not?
on the way home
Jas and me are besties again. Jas was still rambling on about the hidden depths she had found out about herself as Lady MacUseless and Rosie was practicing burping, when we saw the titchey first formers hopping along in front of us.
When we caught up with them, I said to one of the titches, “What are you doing?”
She was wheezing and red but managed to say, “Er, we’re hopping, miss.”
Miss?
I said, “I can see that, but why?”
And she said, “I don’t know.”
How mad is that?
Rosie was looking at them. “I wonder if they are related to Sven?”
wednesday july 13th
Still can’t decide whether to go or not.
I’m glad that Jas and I are pals again. She gave me two midget gems and a Jammy Dodger, which I have to say is nice. Even though she is vair vair annoying, I love her really, but not, you know, in a lezzie way.
4:10 p.m.
Walking home on my own. Which is unusual. Jas has gone off with Tom on a foraging expedition and the rest have gone into town on a makeup shopping spree. I wasn’t in the mood somehow. No sign of Dave and his mates, either.
I am indeed Georgia Nomates.
Ah well, that is the harsh truth of life on this bed of…is that the littlies hopping again? Surely not?
one minute later
It is, though.
They are hopping like loons into the park.
one minute later
And there is Mark Big Gob and The Blunderboys. What are the hoppers doing hanging around them? I sincerely hope they are not going for snogging lessons. Erlack a pongoes. If Mark Big Gob kisses one of them, they will be eaten alive. I know he likes teeny tiny girls, but this is ridiculous.
What is going on?
The girls are handing something over to Mark, still hopping.
one minute later
The Blunderboys are all laughing and smoking as the titches hop off.
I caught up with the hoppers, who were lying down on the grass behind a bush.
I said, “Oy, what are you doing?”
One of them said, “Nothing. Just having a lie down.” And the other titch said, “Because we are tired from hopping.”
I said, “I can see that. But WHY? Are you a bit halfwitted? And what were you doing with Mark and his mates?”
They were redder than red things at a red convention.
half an hour later
It turns out that they are being tormented by Mark and his mates. They make the little titches hand over their lunch money and any sweet money they have, and if they haven’t got any spondulies, the gang make them hop home. And they keep making surprise appearances so that the titches never know when to stop hopping.
What is the matter with Mark and his mates? Haven’t they got anything better to do? I thought the day would never come when I would say this, but they are worse than the Bummer twins in their heyday.
in bed
I keep thinking about the stupid little hoppers.
midnight
What if it was Bibsy being made to hop?
12:30 a.m.
Yeah, as if. I’d like to see the boy who could make her do anything.
12:40 a.m.
But the titches are such weedy blubbers.
12:45 a.m.
Oh blimey. I’m going to have to save them.
thursday july 14th
At break I found the titches and said, “Your hopping days are over.”
in the park
4:30 p.m.
Mark Big Gob and The Blunderboys were louting about, waiting for their hopping victims.
The little titches hid behind a bush whilst I went up to see the lardarses.
5:00 p.m.
After they had stopped leering at my nungas, I said to Oscar, “OK, perv boy, I’m going to tell your mum you smoke, and then you’ll be a dead perv boy.” The other Blunderboys started sniggering and I said to them, “If you don’t back off, I’m going to spread the word at school that you’ve all got infectious warts. No girl will ever snog you again, that is a fact.”
5:30 p.m.
The titches followed me all the way to my gate. They were saying, “Thanks, Georgia, would you like some midget gems, Georgia? What’s your favorite color? Which band do you like best, Georgia?”
Good grief.
I don’t want any tiny hopping pals.
7:00 p.m.
Still don’t know whether to go to the gig or not.
I feel like I haven’t snogged anyone for years.
Do you know why that is? Because I haven’t snogged anyone for years.
The last time was when I saw Dave and that was snoggus interrruptus at Katie’s. Two weeks ago.
Who do I think is the best snogger between Masimo and Dave?
Well, Masimo obviously, as he is the Luuurve God. And he did that neck nuzzling thing that was mega groovy and even thinking about it making my legs go jelloid.
Not to mention my brain.
7:40 p.m.
On the other hand, Dave is the king of the nip libbling.
I wonder if boys mark girls out of ten for snogging like we do?
I must ask Dave.
No, I’d better not. He has a way of knowing what I am thinking about and he would know that I was thinking about him.
friday july 15th
10:00 a.m.
When I walked past Slim’s headquarters today I noticed the school photo had been put up. I stopped to look at it because I wanted to know if you could see the beauty spots the ace gang had all penciled in on our top lips, especially for the photo.
one minute later
Ahaha. Yep…you had to look really closely, but there they were. The Revolution starts here!!! Since the piggy nose scenario last year, when our clearly hilarious joke of making little noses out of egg carton bits had resulted in mass bad conduct marks and odure, we had aimed for subtletosity. And the photo was up and no one had noticed!
one minute later
God, what a bunch of losers the sixth form are. Look at the state of ADM’s sad cardigan. And she is next to Miss Slimebum Octopushead, Wet Lindsay. And that is when I noticed…Wet Lindsay had a small Hitle
r mustache penciled in on her upper lip!!! This was the hand of God at his most amusing.
I was so so excited and happy.
It was a sign, a cosmic sign!
lunchtime
I told the ace gang about the photo and we did a triumphant Viking disco dance. Rosie said, “Let’s go and have a look.”
And I said, “No, we must display casualosity. If we all troop up and look at the photo, someone will see us and then they will look and the finger of shame will point our way. Even though sadly, we are not guilty.”
Ellen said, “I wonder who did do it?”
Jools said, “Who really dislikes her?”
And I said, “No Jools, the question is, who DOESN’T dislike her?”
walking home
The whole ace gang has verified that in fact Wet Lindsay now is officially a member of the Hitler Youth.
I said, “If Miss Stamp sees her mustache, it will be love at first sight.”
5:00 p.m.
As I went round the corner from the bottom road into my street, I caught sight of two little heads bobbing along behind me. It was the hopping titches. Oh good grief, now I was even a mate of first formers. Still. I stopped and they caught up with me. Ginger titch said, “Did you think Wet Lindsay’s mustache was funny?”
I looked at them and they looked all proud of themselves.
I said, “Yeah, it was brillopads, but how do you know about it?”
They giggled and said, “We did it for you, miss.”
Hells bells. They love me and think I have saved them. I have turned into a combination of Superman and Jesus. Not that Jesus would wear tights.
saturday july 16th
11:00 a.m.
Jas on the phone in a pants frenzy. “Gee. Ooooooohhhhh.”
“What? What?”
“Oh this is so exciting!!!”
“Have you discovered a new kind of slug?”
“No.”
“New panties that go right up to your neck?”
“No…oooh I wish I could tell you.”
“Let me get this right, Jas, you have rung me up to tell me something that you can’t tell me, is that it?”
“Yeah!!!”
“Good-bye, then. Thanks.”
I put the phone down.
thirty seconds later
Jas on the phone. “I’ll tell you a bit, then.”
I waited. Oh the tensionosity. Not. It will be something so boring about Jas’s life. If she tells me that she and Hunky are going to have a double wedding with Rosie and Sven, I may lose what little mind I have got left. She is bound to want to have a woodland wedding, we’ll all have to dress as elves and huddle on twigs and…
Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 07 Page 13
