Fab Confessions of Georgia Nicolson: Books 1-3. Louise Rennison

January 18th

      Biology

       2:40 p.m.

      I can do a great impression of a lockjaw germ. Rosie passed me a note: Dear G. You know we have a double free period on Thursday? Well, do you fancy bunking off and going down town? Rrrrrrrrrxxxxx

      4:30 p.m.

      Walking home with Jas. I think she is well on the way to recovery. “What do you think of this lip gloss? Do you think it makes me look a bit like Claudia Schiffer? My mouth is the same shape, I think.” I wish I hadn’t started this. Still, if she wants to live in a fantasy wonderland and it cheers her up... We went to her house and up to her room. Oh, the bliss of a normal household, no mad mum, no strange sister, no wild animals. Jas’s mum asked us if we would like some Ribena and sandwiches. Imagine my mum doing that?... Imagine my mum being in! I suppose she is a good role model... if you want to be a hospital administrator – but couldn’t she make the odd sandwich as well?

      In Jas’s bedroom we did our vital statistics with her tape measure. I am thirty-two, twenty-three, thirty-two and Jas is thirty, twenty-three, thirty-three. I think she was breathing in for the twenty-three myself. Also my legs are two inches longer than hers. (I didn’t mention it to Jas but one of my legs is two inches longer and the other one is only one and a half inches longer. How can you develop a limp at my age? It might be because I carry my bag on one shoulder and it’s making that side longer. I must remember to swap sides. Nobody likes a lopsided girl.)

      Thursday January 28th

      3:30 p.m.

      Rosie got up first and left the room. Miss Wilson came in as we were working, to “supervise”, but we asked her who invented God and she left pretty quickly. We were busy making a list of all the qualities we want in a boyfriend – sense of humour, good dancer, good kisser, nice smile, six-pack, etc. Rosie sent her list and it just said, HUGE. I wrote back, Huge teeth, you mean? And she replied, Yes. Sven has begun to infect her with his Danishness, I think.

      Anyway, Rosie, Jools and Ellen went out first, and then me and Jas. We met up in the ground floor loos and put our boots and skinny tops and make-up on. We made sure the coast was clear and then went out of the back doors. We had to crouch down beneath the science-block windows – Hawkeye was teaching in there and she could smell a girl at twenty paces. Once past the Science block it was a quick dash behind Elvis’s hut. He was in there, reading his newspaper, and as we crept by we heard him fart loudly and say “Pardon”. I started giggling and then everyone caught it. We had to run like mad. All afternoon if anyone did anything we’d say “Pardon”.

      Great in Boots. We tried all the testers, and this stuff that you put on your hair, like a wand and it puts a streak of colour into your own hair. I tried all of them but blonde looked really brilliant. Just a streak across the front, I knew it would look good. I’m going to get Mum to let me dye my hair blonde now that Vati’s safely in Whangamata.

      Midnight

      Brilliant day!!! Jas and I sung “Respect” by Aretha Franklin on the way home.

      

      Saturday February 6th

      11:00 a.m.

      The doorbell rang. Mum was in the loo debagging Libby; it was not a pretty sight. At the weekend Mum wears these awful dungarees that only lesbians or people on Blue Peter in the sixties wear. Libby was singing “Three bag bears, three bag bears, see how they run, see how they run...” (“Three Blind Mice” to other people). Libby was as happy as a mad sandbag but Mum was all flustered. “Will you answer that, Georgie? It will be this builder called Jem I phoned up to look at the lounge. Let him in and make a cup of coffee while I finish with this.”

      When I opened the door I got an impression of blond hair and denims but then there was this awful squealing from next door’s garden. Mrs Next Door was screeching, “Get him, get him! Oh oh oh!” She was dashing around the garden with a broom. I thought that Angus had got the poodle at last, but when I looked over the fence he had a little brown thing in his mouth.