In This Diary
Day 2
by Jade Black
Sunday 27th July 2003
I just got in- and thought I’d write in another update. I’ve had a great
day- we’ve marked out our spot on the beach- in this really secluded little
bit near the pier where you can see everything that’s going on. It’s a plus
as well that it’s not too far to bike or walk down there, and since it’s
near the pier it’s not a long walk to go up and get fish and chips or to the
snack-bar. It’s a rockin’ spot.
Me, Solo, Zechs and Dorothy have been down there all day- trying to find
something to get up to. The only thing I noticed that was possibly
interesting was the hot guy serving the ice creams at the snack bar with no
shirt on. I may pursue that matter…
We went for a swim and all that- and had a water fight- and I ended up
walking home in a dripping wet pair of jeans that were so stiff I could
hardly walk- and when I did it looked like I’d just had something large
shoved up my ass (1)- which is exactly what summer is all about- of course!
I was quite happy with myself, if in a complete state of fashion emergency,
when I turned the corner to go down my road. I’m about to open the gate on
my parents house when this guy in a flash silver BMW convertible roars round
the corner and stops right across the street. He tries to park between two
cars- a space he could never make –one handed, while talking to someone on
his tiny cell phone at the same time. I stood in the garden for a while,
pretending to do something as I watched him. After a couple of minutes, he
pulls the car up in a position where the front sticks right out into the
road- and gets out. But it’s not like he cares that someone’s probably going
to come past and smash into his car, because he’s got enough money to repair
it ten times over, and it just gives him another chance to boast to his
‘friends’ about it.
Then, he leaps out of the car, opens up to boot and yanks out a bouquet of
orchids, a classy sports bag and a collection of posh carrier bags- you
know, the type that fold at the base and have string or tape handles that
never break, no matter how much the bag weighs- with the names of the shops
where they came from printed across the sides in fancy lettering. He takes
them all out, slams the boot shut and swaggers up the drive of one of the
houses across the street in his posh suit. A couple of the bags looked like
they were full of take-out food from one of the posh delis in the middle of
town- and I could just see his evening spreading out before him. He was
probably going to go in and eat however many calories he wanted with this
fit bird that he had probably bought the flowers for- and then work off all
the extra fat by shagging her three times over before 10 o’clock. And here I
was about to go spend my night by myself, perhaps with the welcoming company
of my hand and my annoying little brother.
I finally leave my front garden and walk in to find my Mum sitting on the
sofa with a glass of something or other that I would bet is alcoholic in her
hand, dazedly watching the television and ignoring me completely as the
pictures flash across the screen. I said hi, but she still ignores me- so I
just went upstairs, to find Jason’s door closed and death metal blasting out
from behind it. I decided it was probably good for my health not to
interrupt him. I continued down the hallway to the bathroom- looking myself
in the mirror for a while before putting on the shower, still thinking about
the posh-nosh guy across the street. It seemed like the opposite side was an
alternate universe- and there was no right way in hell that we could both be
living on the same road. I realised I didn’t actually know who lived in the
house there, and really as a neighbour I should have at least seen someone
there.
But there’s him on one side with his convertible, flashy bags and cell
phone- and there’s me getting ready to have a too-cold shower, trying to
wriggle out of faded and ripped jeans that were a few sizes too small for
me- and attempting to get remaining sand out of all the crevices. It just
made me want to nuke his car. Perhaps that would teach him? Perhaps not…
Sunday 27th July 2003
Song of the day: Pink Floyd- The Wall (in horrible attempt at being
sarcastic)
Interesting notes: Apparently they’re enrolling for the Army Cadets in a
couple of weeks- but I’m two months too young to join.
// Teachers *don’t* leave those kids alone //
Another day wasted indoors. I spent a couple of hours surfing the net, and I
found this really cool site full of trippy pictures- that isn’t really my
kind of thing, but I had nothing better to do. At breakfast my mum started
moaning at me and telling me I had to get out and go see some friends. “Why
don’t you ring Trowa or someone, Heero? He could come over here and have tea
if he wants?” Like that’s going to happen. I wouldn’t bring anyone at school
within a mile of my family. Trowa’s kind of a friend but it’s not like we’re
‘best-buds’ like my mother thinks we probably are. I have a couple of
classes with him and we’ve worked together on a couple of projects for which
you had to be in pairs or you’d fail your task- nothing more. To avoid
further conversation on the subject, I had lunch up in my room while
listening to Pink Floyd.
I’m bidding for a book on Ebay called ‘Rebels and devils: The psychology of
liberation’. I think a decent book for the summer could certainly be a
worthwhile investment. It’s supposed to be a collection of essays from some
‘amazing new thinkers’. It might be an interesting idea to keep open-minded.
It comes up to finish the auction in about 48 hours, so it’s probably going
to go up in price quite a bit… but it’s probably a way of keeping me
occupied.
As I said, another day wasted- and I don’t know what I’m going to do
tomorrow. Most likely exactly the same. I’m sure that by the end of the
summer my mind will have baked and wilted into oblivion- and I’ll become
something akin to a vegetable for my parents to find lying in a puddle in my
room at some point near the beginning of school. Lots to look forward to.
(1) *cough*
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