Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 03 (3 page)

tuesday october 26th

10:00 a.m.

The postman came this morning. He didn't have any post, he just said, “Good morning to ye. It's nice to have a good-looking lassie round the place.”

He was quite groovy-looking. A bit like a young Sean Connery. But with more hair on his head. And quite nice lips.

10:15 a.m.

Oh Blimey O'Reilly's pantaloons, I think I have got general snoggosity syndrome.

11:00 a.m.

Maybe Jas is right. I have become an easy fondleree because of my pent-up snogging deprivation.

Oh Robbie, where are you now? Rescue me from this valley of the loons.

4:29 p.m.

Accidentally found myself next to the phone box.

Uh-oh. Temptation.

The phone box was saying to me, “Come in and use me. You know you want to.”

I have been practicing maturiosity by not phoning the Sex God. It seems like a lifetime since he last snogged me. My lips have definitely got snog withdrawal. I found myself trying out kissing techniques on scuba-diving Barbie last night. Which is truly sad. I must pass by the phone box with complete determinosity.

4:30 p.m.

Brring brring.

Please don't let it be Robbie's mum or dad. Please don't let me have to be normal. Oh thank goodness SG answered the phone. Jellyknickers all round.

He said “Hello” in a Sex Goddy sort of a way.

Wow!!

Then he said “Hello” again.

Wow.

Then I realized that normally when you phone someone up you are supposed to say something. And that something is NOT “I love you, I love you” or “Ngyunghf.” So I took the bullet by the horns and said, “Hi…Robbie…it's me. Georgia.” (Very good, I had even said the right name!!!) He sounded like he was really pleased to hear from me. “Gee! How are you, gorgeous?”

Gorgeous. He, me called, gorgeous. Me, I. Georgia to brain! Georgia to brain! Shut up shut up shut up!!!!!

He said, “Gee, are you there? Are you having a good time?”

“Fantastic, if you like being bored beyond the Valley of Boredom and into the Universe of the Very Dull.”

He laughed. (Hurrah!!!) Oh, it was so dreamy
to talk to him. I told him about everything. (Well, apart from being molested by Jock McThick.) He says some talent scouts are coming to see the next Stiff Dylans gig on November 6th at the Buddha Lounge!! My first official outing as an OG (official girlfriend). What shall I wear, what shall I wear? I noticed he hadn't really said anything for a bit whilst I had been rummaging through my mental wardrobe. He was not
le official grand bouche
like some people (Jas). I thought I would entertain him with an intelligent story, but all I could think of telling him about was my nunga-nunga protectors idea. Just in the knickers of time I didn't. Why couldn't I be normal with him?

Fortunately he said something. “Look, Gee, I'm really sorry but I have to go. I could talk to you all day, but I have to go off to a rehearsal. I'm late now.”

Ho hum. Well I suppose this is the price I must pay for being the GIRLFRIEND OF A SEX GOD POPSTAR!!! YESSS!!!

He said, in his groovy voice full of gorgeosity, “See you later. I'd like to snog you to within an inch of your life. I'll phone you when you get back.”

Ooohhhhhh.

After he had put the phone down I stroked my T-shirt with the receiver pretending it was him. But then I saw that Jock McTavish was waiting outside the telephone box looking at me, so I had to pretend I was cleaning the receiver.

5:00 p.m.

Phew.

To make Jock go away, I have said I will go to Alldays later. Which I will not. Jock seemed to be lieve me because he said, “Awa the noo hoots akimbo” or something.

9:00 p.m.

How soon can I get them to set off for home tomorrow? If we set off at dawn we could be back in Normal Land by about four
P.M.

9:30 p.m.

I wonder if the ace gang might arrange a surprise welcome home party for me. It's half term now, so I am no longer an ostracized leper on my own. So ha-di-haha. She who laughs the last laughs, erm, a lot. Slim thought she was banning me for a week but she was banning me for two weeks!!!

10:00 p.m.

In “my” bed, with the usual crowd. Libby and the entire contents of her traveling toybox: scuba-diving Barbie, one-eyed Teddy, Pantalitzer, Panda the Punk (Libby shaved his head). The only difference is that to celebrate our holiday in Tartan-a-gogo Libby has replaced Charlie Horse with Jimmy. Jimmy is a haggis with a scarf on. Don't even ask. Libby made him this afternoon and she “lobes” him.

I am sleeping in a bed with a stuffed sheep's stomach. With a scarf on.

wednesday october 27th

6:00 a.m.

Up and packed. I tried to get Mutti and Vati to get up and make an early start, but when I went into their bedroom Vati threw his slipper at me.

9:00 a.m.

At last! Escape!!!! Soon I will be back in the arms of my Sex God. At last, at last. Thank the Lord!!! I love you, Jesus, really, really I do. Good-bye Och Aye land!!! I sat in the back of the car daydreaming of my return as OG. But as they say, “Every silver
cloud has a dark lining,” because Vati decided to wear his ridiculous souvenir bagpipe hat as we eventually got into the loonmobile. I got down as low as I could in the back of the car so that no one would see me. I wish I could have an inflatable dad, like in that old film
Airplane!
where there is an inflatable pilot. Still, with a bit of luck I need never see him again when I get my freedom back. Arrow looked all mournfully at Angus when we left. He will miss his furry partner in crime. Angus and Arrow,
los dos amigos bonkeros
. Angus didn't even look back. He just shot into the car and started wrestling with the car rug.

11:00 a.m.

Meanwhile in my fabulous life, another eighty-five years of my parents' company in the car going home.

Libby has insisted on bringing Jimmy the haggis home with us.

1:00 p.m.

Oh good grief. Angus ate half of Jimmy when Libby had to be taken to the piddly diddly department
at the service station. She went ballisticisimus when she found out. She hit Angus over the head with scuba-diving Barbie. I don't think he even noticed—well, he didn't stop purring. I nodded off for the whole of the Midlands because Dad started telling us about his hopes for the future. When I woke up I noticed that both Libby and Angus were nibbling away at Jimmy.

They are disgusting.

I sooooo hope that Robbie rings when I get home.

6:00 p.m.

Home!!!! Oh, thank you, thank you, Baby Jesus. I am SOOOO happy. I will never complain about my dear little home again.

6:15 p.m.

God, it's so boring here. Nothing is happening.

6:30 p.m.

No phone calls.

All my so-called mates forgot to remember that I am not dead. Don't they even wonder where I have been for the last five days?

7:55 p.m.

Jas, Jools, Ellen, Rosie, Mabs and Soph are ALL out. They've all gone to the cinema together. The Fab Gang but without one of the fab. People can be so self-obsessed. Right, well, I am going to eat the souvenirs that I brought back from Och Aye land for them.

8:25 p.m.

Lying down.

Urgh, I feel sick. I may never eat Ye Olde Short-breaddy again as long as I live.

9:00 p.m.

Tucked up in bed. I have made a barrier with my bedside table so that no one can get in my room.

Now I really have got snogging withdrawal BADLY!!

9:05 p.m.

I must see him. I must.

10:00 p.m.

Undid my barricade and went downstairs. I am so restless.

Angus is driving everyone insane!!! He is not allowed out at night until he learns his lesson vis-à-vis Naomi the sex kitten. He has to be kept away from her; otherwise he is in for the big chop. Although I would like to see the vet that could do the job and still have both arms.

Angus keeps yowling and scratching at the door. He is supposed to go to the piddly diddly department and poo parlor division in the laundry room. But he won't go in. He just hangs round the front door trying to get out, whining and scratching and occasionally licking his bottom.

Libby said, “C'mon, big pussy, I'll show you,” and went and had a piddly diddly on his tray. Oh marvelous. Now we'll never get her to go to the ordinary piddly diddly department. She'll want her own tray.

Then Vati, Loonleader of the Universe, took over. “I'll deal with the bloody thing!” He dragged Angus into the laundry to put him on the cat tray. It took him about half an hour, even using the spade. Anyway, he got him in there at last. There was a lot of yowling and swearing and Vati came out two minutes later covered in kitty litter. Like the Abominable Ashtray! Even his beard was gray.

10:30 p.m.

In the end, after Angus had laid waste to four loo rolls, I was made to take him out on his lead to see if it would calm him down. God, he's strong! I mean, normally I have very little control over him, but his love has given him the strength of ten mad cats. When we got out of the door he just took off with me on the end of the lead. Straight to Naomi's love parlor. At Mr. and Mrs. Across the Road's place there was a reinforced fence round the gar den, but you could see the house and there was Naomi!! The sex kitten. Lan guishing in the kitchen window. On the window sill. Looking all longing. She was like me. All puckered up and nowhere to go. Poor furry thing. Angus yowled and started doing this weird shivering thing. When Naomi saw Angus she immediately lay on her back with her girlie parts flowing free. She's a dreadful minx. No wonder Angus is a wreck, driven mad by her Burmese sex kitteny charms. Still, that is male and female for you. Sex God is probably at home even now thinking about me and shivering with excitement like Angus.

10:40 p.m.

But hopefully not rubbing his bottom against a dustbin.

10:50 p.m.

We would have been there all night, but fortunately Mr. Across the Road drew the curtains and I found a bit of old sausage and managed to get Angus to trail after it. He was so miserable that I didn't lock him in the kitchen. I let him sleep on my bed even though it is strictly verboten.

I said to him very seriously, “Angus, you are on best behavior. Just lie down and go to sleep.” He was all purry and friendly and licky. You see, that's all he needs—a bit of understanding.

Aahhh. It's nice having a loyal furry pal. He's a lot more loyal than some I could name but won't.

Jas.

10:55 p.m.

And Rosie, Jools, Ellen.

11:00 p.m.

Night night, Sex God, wherever you are.

midnight

Vati just went ballisticisimus. Raving on and shouting, “That is IT, that is IT!!!”

Mutti was saying, “Bob, Bob…put the knife down.”

Has he finally snapped and will have to go to a vatihome?

12:15 a.m.

Angus has pooed in Vati's tie drawer! Hilarious, really.

El Beardo as usual did not see the joke. He dragged Angus, who was spitting at him, into the kitchen and locked him in there. Then he shouted at me, “Right, that's IT! I'm going to the vet's.”

I said, “Why? Are you feeling a bit peaky?” But he didn't get it.

thursday october 28th

10:00 a.m.

Vati said to me over our marvelous breakfast of…er…nothing, “He's going to the vet's and having his chimney swept as soon as I can make an appointment.”

What in the name of Sir Julie Andrews is he talking about now?

11:00 a.m.

I've got much too much on my mind to worry about chimneys. I think I may have a lurker coming on. Emergency, emergency.

11:15 a.m.

Also the orangutan gene is rearing its ugly head again. My eyebrows are so hairy they are now approaching the “It's a mustache! It's a hedgehog!!! No, no, it's GEORGIA'S EYEBROWS!!” stage.

It doesn't even stop at the head, this rogue hair business. I've just inspected my legs. I look like I have got hairy trousers on. Dad's razor is lying there calling to me, “Come on, use me. Just a few little strokes and you could look almost human.” But no, no, I must resist after what happened last time. My eyebrows took a thousand years to grow back after I accidentally shaved them off.

Hmm, but maybe Mum's hair removing cream? Just a little dab here and there.

midday

Mutti asked me if I wanted to go tenpin bowling with them! Honestly! She and Vati went off with Libby skipping along. I think M and D were holding hands. Sweet really, I suppose. I just wish it didn't make me feel so sick.

12:30 p.m.

Jas came round AT LAST. I was a bit miffed with her about last night and not bothering to come round earlier. She didn't notice, of course. She just bent over to pick up my makeup bag. I could see her vast pantibus lurking under her skirt. I said, “Jas, do you mind? I'm not feeling very well. I think I might have jet lag from coming from Och Aye land.”

“You haven't got a tan.”

What is the point? I gave her my worst look but she just went on using my mascara. She CANNOT stop pouting every time she sees herself in a mirror. She said, “We had a great time at the pictures. Dave the Laugh is really…you know…(pouty pout)…”

“What?”

“Well, you know (pouty pout)…a laugh.”

I tried not to be sarcastic or raise my eyebrows ironically, because I didn't want to draw any attention to them. I have not quite achieved the sophisticated look that I wanted with Mum's hair remover. In fact I have achieved the someone-has-just-stuck-a-firework-up-my-bottom look. But you can't really tell unless you pull my fringe back.