7:20 p.m.
Jas phoned to wish me luck. She said, “Tell me all about it when you get home. Remember what number you get up to on the snogging scale. Are you wearing a bra? I think it would be wise because you don’t want to wobble all over the place.”
I said, “Goodbye, Jas.”
I’m not wearing a bra; I thought I would go free and akimbo. I just won’t make any sudden movements.
Walking down Arundel Street
7:30 p.m.
Brrr, not quite as warm and bright as it was earlier. A bit overcast, actually, and…oh no…it’s starting to rain! It’s too far to go back home for an umby…it will probably stop in a minute.
7:40 p.m.
Outside Robbie’s gate. It really is raining quite hard now. I’m wet through and really cold. I think my trousers have shrunk; they are hugging my bottom in a vice-like grip. I wonder if I look all right?
I’ll nip into the telephone box opposite his house and check my mirror.
In the telephone box
7:45 p.m.
My trousers have shrunk so tight around my bottom that I can’t bend my legs. This is hopeless. Brrr. Why is everything going wrong? I can’t go to see the Sex God looking like this. I’ll have to phone him up and say I’m ill.
7:50 p.m.
SG answered the phone, “Hello.”
Swoon swoon.
I said, “Roggie, nit’s ne, Neorgia.”
“What’s wrong with your voice?”
“Der nl’d gat a trrible cold nd Im nin bed.”
“Do they have beds in telephone boxes?”
“Dnno.”
“Georgia, I can see you through the window.”
When I looked across at his house, he waved at me. Oh GODDDDDD!!!!!!
He said, “Come over.”
What can I do, what can I do? My top is all wet. And there are two bumpy things in it. Great! It looks like I’ve got two peas down the front of my top. Typical, the only thing Mum has ever ironed for me and she has ironed it wrong.
As I walked up to the door I tried to flatten out the bumpy bits. But it wasn’t my top sticking up…it was ME!!! My nipples!!!!! What were they doing?!!! Why were they sticking out? I hadn’t told them to do that. How could I get them back in again? I’d have to cross my arms in a casual way and hope he didn’t offer me a cup of coffee.
7:55 p.m.
The back door opened and there he was!! The Sex God had landed. I went even more jelloid. He was so gorgey…so…oooooh and er and yum yum and scrumbos and yummy scrumbos. His hair was all floppy, he had on dark jeans and a white T-shirt and you could see his shoulders (one on each side). He’s got really, really dark blue eyes and long dark eyelashes and a big mouth, sort of soft looking. He’s not a girlie boy though, he’s definitely a boyie boy, which I think is handy in a boy myself.
Midnight
I love him, I love him. I love you, Robbie, oh yes I do. When I’m not near you I’m blue…What else rhymes with Robbie? Gobbie? Snoggie? Knobbie?
12:30 a.m.
I can’t sleep, life is too brilliant. I may never sleep again.
It was such a fab night. We talked for a bit– well, I said, “My dad had his shoes blown off by a rogue bore,” and he said, “Does anything normal ever happen to you?” Which I took as a compliment.
He played me a song on his guitar. I didn’t really know what to do when he did that. I just sat on the sofa next to him with an attractive half-smile on my face and my arms crossed). It was quite a long song and by the end of it my cheeks ached like billio. In fact, I think I might have cheek strain. I tried to keep my nose sucked in at the same time; I didn’t want it wandering across my face.
He told me that he is going to go to university to do music properly. I said, “I’m going to be a vet.” I don’t know why as I’m not. I didn’t seem to be able to make anything come out of my mouth that had anything to do with my brain. He looked into my eyes and went quiet, and I went quiet and looked back at him. I tried not to blink. That seemed to go on for about a million years. In the end I had a sort of nervy spasm and went and looked at a photograph of a dog that was on a table. He probably thinks I am obsessed with animals as I am a trainee vet (not).
He came over and put his arm round my shoulder. I had an overwhelming urge to start doing Cossack dancing as a very funny joke, but just in time I remembered that boys don’t like girls for jokes. Then he kissed me. I think he may be the best snogger in the universe. Although I have only snogged two other boys so far, and one of those was part boy part whelk, so I can’t be entirely sure. SG does that varying pressure thing that Rosie says foreign boys do. You know, soft and then hard and then medium and then hard again. I could have quite literally snogged until the cows came home. And when they came home I would have shouted, “WHAT HAVE YOU COWS COME HOME FOR? CAN’T YOU SEE I’M SNOGGING, YOU STUPID HERBIVORES???”
I think I may be a bit feverish.
1:30 a.m.
I am going to be nice to everyone from now on. Even Wet Lindsay, Robbie’s ex. I won’t say to her, “Yesssssss!!!!” I will be grown-up and nice.
The only fly in the landscape is that when he walked me to my gate and said goodnight he tweaked my nose. And he said, “I’ll see you later.”
1:35 a.m.
What does that mean? Not the “see you later” bit, because no one knows what that means. I mean the tweaking the nose business.
1:40 a.m.
Does it mean, “Hey, you adorable cute thing,” or does it mean, “Cor, what a size that conk is, I wonder if I can get all of it in one hand?”
Wednesday July 28th
3:35 p.m.
I am a Sex God’s girlfriend. But I will not let it spoil my naturalness.
Phoned Jas: “Even when I have loads of interesting and glamorous friends I would still want to be friends with you. Because we are proper friends. We should never let boys come between us.”
Jas said, “Tom is going to buy me one of those stick-on transfer tattoos. I’m going to put it on my bottom while he is away and not wash it off until he gets back.”
“Jas, can you leave your bottom out of this? Please.”
Friday July 30th
5:00 p.m.
Made my dear mutti and sister a meal today. Mashed potatoes and sausages. I thought Mum was going to cry.
10:00 p.m.
Early to bed, early to rise, makes a girl…er…anyway, it gets a girl out of the way of her mutti who had a nervy b. when she saw the state of the kitchen.
10:15 p.m.
Why do I always get the blame for every