Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 08 (9 page)

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Authors: Love Is a Many Trousered Thing

Tags: #Europe, #Juvenile Nonfiction, #Humorous Stories, #England, #Teenage Girls, #Diaries, #Diary Fiction, #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Fiction, #Interpersonal Relations, #Love & Romance, #Dating (Social Customs), #Nicolson; Georgia (Fictitious Character), #Love, #Girls & Women, #People & Places, #General, #Love Stories

BOOK: Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 08
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I said, “Jas, that is a really crap thing to say for
a besty sort of person, and who is that laughing in the background?”

“It's Tom, he's helping me pack for the camping trip.”

I so wanted to hit her. But I had to stay calm because of wanting to stay at her place on Saturday night. What is more, I had to listen to her listing the really, really boring things that she is looking forward to doing when we are camping. Who could possibly be interested in building a nighttime “hide” that you can crouch in and watch ferrets and badgers and so on do all the indescribably boring stuff that they do at nighttime? Digging and pooing mostly. Well, Jas is riveted by that sort of tosh.

She said, “If we are really lucky, Tom says we might see some foxes.”

I said, “Yippppeee,” in a sarcastic way, but then I remembered staying over at her house and had to change it to a sort of “Yipppeeee, I do hope we do see some foxes and maybe even some, erm, goats.”

Jas said, “Why would we see any goats, they are not wandering about in the woods, are they? They would be on farms.”

I said, “Perhaps they are bored with farm life and fancy getting out a bit, making new woodland friends and so on.”

“You are being silly now.”

“Jas, I am just remarking that it doesn't seem fair that all the foxes and badgers and so on who do not as far as I know lift a paw to help others, should be allowed to wander willy-nilly in the woods and the poor old goats, who give milk and so on should have to stay in. That is all I am saying.”

“I am going now.”

And she put the phone down.

one minute later

She is soooo annoying, but I must remember that I need to stay at her place after the gig. I phoned her back.

“Jas?”

“What?”

“Please don't get upset about the goats.”

“You were being silly.”

“I know, but it's only because I'm all nervous and excited. Please be my pal. Pleasey please please?”

“Well…”

“I promise to be excited if we see some foxes.”

After about ten minutes of nicenosity, Jas forgave me. Phew. Thank goodness. Having a best pally is the most v. important thing in the world. Your pals will be with you, even though Luuurve Gods may come and go.

Also, she has said I can stay at her place. Hurray!

in the kitchen

Mum was making some snacks. She said, “So tell me, what is happening tomorrow?”

Oh God. Still, I had better tell her something as it looks like I might have to borrow her Chanel bag again. Even though I am banned for life after spilling hot chocolate in it. I said, “Well, you remember there is a gig on and that I am going to stay over at Jas's because it is nearer.”

“It's not nearer if Dad picks you up in the car.”

“Yes, but that is not going to happen.”

“Why, have you asked him?”

“No, it is not going to happen, because it is not going to happen.”

“And besides that, I don't remember saying you could stay at Jas's.”

“You said I could go to the gig last week.”

“I know, but what has that to do with staying at Jas's?”

“I ALWAYS stay at Jas's after gigs.”

“No you don't.”

“Well if I don't it's only because you want to spoil my life.”

“What?”

“You know how important tomorrow is. I told you about Robbie, and then Masimo came round when I was in the bath and so on, and I STILL am not allowed to dye my hair, so I look like a boring person, and I have to traipse along to the gig with my ordinary hair whilst EVERYONE else is allowed to dye their hair. And now you are telling me that even though you said I could stay at Jas's, now you don't even know about it. I give up. I tell you what, I will just stay in my room for the rest of my life. Are you HAPPY now?”

ten minutes later

Mum was so frazzled by me that she has let me stay at Jas's! Yessssss! And borrow her bag!!!

So even though I will be naked tomorrow because I can't decide what to wear, I will at least have a nice bag.

in bed snuggled down

If I go to sleep early, then time will pass quickly and it will be tomorrow, today if you see what I mean.

I do.

Night-night.

9:00 p.m.

I am going to make a pro and con list of all the good and bad qualities of the Sex God and the Luuurve God. Now let me see, I'll start with the most important things.

Looks.

twenty minutes later

This is it.

Masimo:

Looks: A ten deffo.

Special attributes: Cat's eyes, Pizza-a-gogo charisma.

Snogging skills:
Muchos buenos
.

Sense of humor: Probably. Hard to tell. I haven't heard any Italian-type jokes yet. Or maybe I have but just don't understand them.

Personality: Yes.

Caring: Yes, because when he was finishing
with his ex, he was quite nice and everything. Also, even though I didn't like it, he was straight with me when he said he would think about going out with me.

Minus points.

Hmmmmmm.

There might be a touch of the “oooohhh mind my hair, do you like my handbag?” about him. Although thinking about it, I don't know that I have actually noticed the “handbag, mind my hair” business. But Dave the Laugh has mentioned it. A LOT.

But Junior Blunderboy did shout out, “Does his boyfriend know you are snogging him?” Does that mean that there is the suggestion of the homosexualist about him?

The Wet Lindsay factor. Does not seem to entirely realize what a complete arse above all arses she is. On the plus side, he has not spent more than one or two evenings in her company. As far as I know. Ergo, may not have snogged her. Even though she has implied that he has…

Now then, over to Robbie.

Looks: Yummy scrumboes. Maybe, though, just for scrupulous accuracy and fairness, I should mark him down half a point because I do prefer yellow eyes to blue ones. So let's say nine and a half.

Special attributes: Ability to get on with me even when my brain has slipped off for a little holiday. Is nice about Angus even when Angus once ripped his trouser bottoms to shreds. Also, he laughed rather than rang for the police when I ran my hand through my hair and the bleached bit of it snapped off in my hand. Snogging skills: You're telling me. Well, you
are
telling me because it is so long since I snogged him that I have almost forgotten. I remember his ear-nibbling technique being surprisingly good. Or was that Dave the Laugh? Oy get off this list, Dave the Laugh, you are not on it. This is not “just a good mates” list.

Sense of humor: Generally good. Although I don't think it extends to his songwriting skills. As I have said before, “Oh No It's Me Again,” about van Gogh cutting his ear off, is one of the most depressing songs ever written. And
believe me, I know, Dad has played me “Agadoo” too often for me not to know what a depressing song is like.

Personality: Yes. I think so. Yes. Again, though, as Dave the Laugh says, you can't entirely trust someone who wears rubber shoes because they don't believe in leather.

Caring: He is nice to Angus and Libby, which are tough darts. So I think he probably scores about an eight.

Minus points.

Hmmmmm.

Well there
is
the aforementioned obsession with the planet, wombats etc. There is definitely a touch of the Jas about him. And, to be frank, he did once choose wombats over me, so once bitten twice whatsit.

Then of course there is the Wet Lindsay factor. It cannot be ignored that his lips have made contact with bits of Old Slimey's anatomy. He did officially go out with her. I really have no excuse for that. And even now he has not given her the severe mental thrashing that she so richly deserves.

But the major minus point is that I don't know if he just wants me for a matey-mate or as a prospective girlfriend.

What I really need is someone to discuss this with. If it was all alrighty with Dave the Laugh, I would deffo ask for his Hornmeister opinion.

one minute later

Actually why isn't it alrighty with Dave the Laugh? He didn't seem at all bothered when he saw me with Robbie. He even asked him to go play pool with him. In anybody's language that is a matey-mate type person and not a prospective snoggee, so I could ask him. I think that is what I will do.

one minute later

Although I don't feel I can just call him and ask him ad hoc and willy-nilly because of his girlfriend situation, so maybe I can get him on his own at the gig tomorrow night and ask him then.

Good plan.

Now I have got all excited in my brain box. I will never sleep I…

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

saturday july 23rd

9:00 a.m.

Is it too soon to start getting ready yet?

Phoned Jas.

She is not even up yet.

9:30 a.m.

None of the ace gang are up. How lazy can you be???

Maybe I will take a quick morning jog over the back fields to get the old corpuscles flinging themselves around in my body.

10:15 a.m.

This is quite pleasant out here in the elements. My little stripey chums the bees are buzzing about in the flowers. Even now at home in the hive the queen bee might be ripping some drone's trouser-snake addendas off. It's a lovely thought. Or two queen bees might be having a bitch fight. Or per
haps all of them are just humming a merry song together, knitting stripey jumpers.

Jog, jog, jog, not too bouncy, keep the nungas flexed so that they don't hit me in the eye and jog, jog, jog. Oh look, there is Mr. Next Door and Mrs. Next Door walking the Prat Poodles. They throw them the stick and off they go yapping after it. They are a ludicrous waste of space really…and the poodles are no better! Hahahahaha I have made an inner joke. I'd better get as many inner jokes out of the way as possible before tonight because if there is one thing I have learned it is not to let my brain run free and wild. All sorts of rubbish will come out of my mouth.

I jogged past the Next Doors and waved cheerily to them. They looked a bit alarmed. What is the matter with them? What possible harm can I do them in my running shorts?

11:00 a.m.

I'm just going to go to the edge of the woods and then back home. It's about 11:00 a.m. now, so I could start my steam and cleanse routine. Deep-condition hair at the same time. Then a spot of lunch lovingly prepared by my mother. (Oh I've just accidentally
made another inner joke.) After lunch, a lie-down with cucumber slices and face mask till my lunch has been munched up by the billions of germs and enzymes lurking around my body. They'd better do something to repay me for lugging them about all the time. That would bring the time to about 2:30, long luxurious bath with Mum's special unguents and a very thorough going-over in the mirror for any orangutan genes. I plucked my eyebrows the day before yesterday so I should just about be alright, although those dangly squiggly ones seem to sprout in minutes. Spring out of the bath about 5:00 and then have a bit of a dash to get makeup done by 6:30.

one minute later

Jog, jog.

I might have to cut short my bath just to be on the safe side because if something goes wrong makeupwise…you know, dodgy eyeliner or stab in the eye with the mascara brush…I'll need extra time to cope.

in the bath
4:00 p.m.

Oh how relaxing is this? Not, is the answer! Dad is
driving me insane with his “Can I possibly get into the bathroom this side of the grave!!” shouting through the keyhole–type stuff.

I am sure he just lounges around waiting for me to have a bath so that he can come and annoy me. He's been doing DIY this arvie so he's bound to be off to casualty in a minute and then at least I will get some peace. Why is he so daddish about doing stuff that he is hopeless at? Mum wanted the kitchen painted and he has insisted that he and Uncle Eddie can do it. It was only a minute and a half before he accidentally painted over the chopping board.

in the kitchen
4:15 p.m.

Dad and Uncle Eddie are almost entirely buttercup yellow. They look like they have had a paint fight.

two minutes later

The kitchen looks like it has had a paint fight.

Mum just looked at me.

I looked at her.

I said, “You chose him.”

And I went off to my boudoir. It just shows you
how vair vair careful you must be when you are choosing your partner. She should have made Dad fill out a questionnaire with questions like: Are you sane? And how are your DIY skills? For instance, can you mend a bike wheel without getting your hand stuck and having to go to casualty?

And if the person (Dad) said “no” to both questions, then you run like the wind.

Etc.

Mind you as I said to Mum, I wouldn't even have had to bother with the questionnaire as a quick glance at his enormous conk would have been a deciding factor for me.

in my bedroom

I had almost forgotten about my nose until Miss Octopushead mentioned it again. Let me see.

looking in the mirror

Well it's not small, that is a fact. But providing I don't do any ad hoc smiley smiley without reining my nostrils in I think it could pass for almost normal. I don't know why, perhaps my face has grown around it a bit.

7:10 p.m.

I am ready. Well, as ready as I will ever be.

My makeup went well and I have applied anti-snogging sealant to my lips, although not to my eyes this time. I decided on my short blue dress in the end, with ankle boots. My hair is not bad for once, it has bounceability and umph.

7:15 p.m.

Phoned Jas.

“Jas, are you ready?”

“Yeah, are you? Tom is walking there with Robbie so I'll meet you and the gang at the clock tower if you like.”

“Okey diddly dokey. I'm a bit nervy, I hope I don't have a spaz attack on the way there.”

“Please don't, the last time you did my tights got laddered when we crashed into the postbox.”

7:40 p.m.

Clock tower.

The ace gang rides again!!!

Rosie was all in black, as was Sven. Also Sven was wearing a cowboy hat. He said, “
Ciao
baby,
hasta la vista
.”

What fresh hell.

Rosie said, “He's gorgeous, isn't he, my fiancé.”

I said, “Er…yeah”

Ellen, Jools, Mabs, Honor, Soph (trainee ace gang members), Jas and me walked along chatting together whilst Sven and Rosie brought up the rear (oo-er). There was a big queue outside the Old Market, but Sven swanned up to the front and chatted to the bloke on the door. Oh brilliant, we would probably be banned before we even got in. But to my amazement the bloke said, “Come straight through, girls,” and ushered us in. Right past Wet Lindsay and her pals. Yessssssss!!! She was as livid as a livid thing.

stiff dylans gig

Inside it was already rammed. The Dylans have built up a massive following, it is going to be vair tiring constantly going out as I will have to when I am Masimo's girlfriend. I still can't believe it, actually. You know when you dream about something for so long and then it happens.

one minute later

Well, maybe going to happen if I choose him over
Robbie. Unless Masimo really is two-timing me with Lindsay, and Robbie is only my mate. In which case I am a fool and a loser.

9.30 p.m.

I am sooooo hot and full of tensionosity. Masimo has smiled at me from the stage, but I haven't actually spoken to him. And also, he has smiled at quite a few girls. I have been having a laugh, but also don't quite know what is going on. Ro Ro came up.

“OK, gang, this is a fast one. We could practice the Viking bison dance. Have you all got your horns?”

I said, “Oh drat I forgot mine, never mind, you lot carry on.”

Ro Ro looked at me. “Don't you luuuuurve the Viking bison dance? Don't you want me to have a happy wedding?”

I said, “Yes, I do, but as I have another eighteen years to practice the dance before you get married, I am not too bothered.”

Rosie said, “Have it your own way, I can't stand chatting to you all night, I have my fiancé to snog.”

And she went and hurled herself on Sven and
snogged him right in front of everyone, and he was eating a packet of peanuts at the time.

forty-fifth visit to the tarts' emporium

Lippy still nice and pink and glossy. Which isn't surprising, as I haven't exactly been living in Snog City.

I was just doing a bit of nunga-nunga adjusting and pouting practice when I noticed a little head bobbling about behind me. Then it was joined by another little red head. Two little heads bobbling about behind me. The little titches from school. What were they doing here? Also, they were covered in makeup, they looked like Martha and Minnie the daft vampire twits. (Whoever they are.)

I turned round and said, “What are you two doing here?”

Titch No. 1 said, “We like a bop on a Saturday night.”

Are they insane? They are only about twelve. Then I noticed their skirts. Or not, as it happens. They were wearing what looked like belts. I said that to them, I said, “You seem to have come out without your skirts on. It's not PE, you know.”

They both started shuffling their legs.

“It's fashion, Miss.”

Fashion? Miss? Hang on a minute, I had become my vati!!!

ten minutes later

I gave them a stiff talking-to about the birds and the bees. Well the bees anyway, I told them about the bee arse thing etc. But I also said that Wet Lindsay was here and that if she saw them they were definitely in for an ear-bashing and possibly another visit to the elephant house, or Slim's study, as some fools call it.

They looked a bit frightened. And one said, “We just wanted some fun. We are never allowed to do anything, it's like being in prison. My dad shouts at me when I am on the phone, or in the bathroom or use his razor and everything.”

I was nodding along. “I know, I know, I know. Yep I know.”

They are very young to know the tragicosity of life, but there you are. Anyway I told them that if they stood in the dark near the bar they could watch the band for another half an hour but then they must go home.

Strangely they seem to think I know what I am
talking about and do what I say. It's a bit like having a couple of ginger retrievers in makeup.

back in the gig

I took the titches to a space behind the bar where it was really dark and left them there all giggly. Wet Lindsay and her tragic mates were “grooving about” (or pratting about, as some might call it) at the far end of the club by the stage. Masimo didn't seem to be paying any attention to her. But then he hadn't paid any attention to me either, other than smiling at me.

fifteen minutes later

The band had done one cracking set. No sign of Robbie yet. Masimo was a fabby singer and his dancing was grooviness personified. All the twittish girls at the front were going mental. I wouldn't be surprised if they started throwing their knickers at him. Very very shaming, they have no pridenosity.

I turned to Jas and said, “You wouldn't fling your knickers on stage, would you Jazzy?”

She said, “Well not the inner ones.”

Is she completely insane? Does she actually wear two pairs of knickers? Outer ones and inner
ones? I was just about to make her let me have a look when a sort of scuffle-type thing took place by the bar. Oh great, I might have known, the Blunderboys had turned up and Mark Big Gob was having a go at someone.

Ellen and the rest of the gang wanted to go and see what was happening so we went over.

one minute later

Wow and wow and wowzee wow. It was like the shoot-out at the OK Corral. Dave the Laugh and his mates were sizing up to the Blunderboys. Apparently one of the Blunderers had been hitting on the titches, twanging their bra straps and trying to snog them and Dave had noticed and stepped up.

Mark Big Gob said, “Pick a window, you're leaving.”

And the next thing I knew, Dave the Laugh was sitting on Mark Big Gob's head.

two minutes later

The bouncers chucked the Blunders out. They are so pathetico, they were yelling, “Watch your back, mate, we know where you live.”

Dave said, “Yeah, but do you know where
you
live, that is the point, you twit.”

As they left, Mark did that putting two fingers to his eyes and then pointing them at Dave and then doing a pretend cutting his throat. Amazingly naff.

The titches went up to Dave all mooney and he said, “Home, girls, now, quick as you like.”

And they said, “OK, Dave.”

And left all girly.

Blimey.

I said to Dave, “They luuurve you.”

Dave looked at me. “I am, it has to be said, Jack the Biscuit.”

Then he puckered up and did a really mad fast twisting dance. He was shouting, “Just call me Big Dave!!!”

I was laughing when Emma came over with a drink for him. She said “hi” to me and then gave him a kiss and a hug. Weird. Well, the kiss and the hug weren't weird, but it made me feel sort of weird.

I sloped off to the ace gang.

break

Robbie arrived. Wet Lindsay must have been on high
alert because he had only just got through the door before she flung herself on him and took him to the bar. God, I hate her. I must say he didn't look too thrilled to see her and he was looking around. Maybe he was looking for me. I had a sudden spaz attack and said to Jas, “Jas, I am going to hide behind you, don't move, I want to see what is going on.”

Jas is useless as camouflage, she keeps forgetting her role and every time she says anything to me she turns round to talk to me and reveals me crouching down behind her. What is the point in that?

Lindsay was being all “animated,” if an octopus can be animated. Robbie was being polite, but he looked a bit distracted. The he saw the Dylans coming from backstage to the bar and said something to Lindsay and went over to speak to them. As he turned his back on her, Lindsay reached down the front of her top and did a bit of adjusting. Ah-hah, her false basoomas must have come free from their lashings. Good.

The Dylans sat down at a table and were immediately surrounded by girls all fluffing and farting about. Jas said, “I'm going to the bar with Tom, you'll have to fend for yourself.”

I said, “Jas, Jazzy, don't leave me, just walk
slowly across to the bar and I will lurk behind you.”

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