Dear Diary

Monday, Dear Diary,

Why can’t life just be simple? Well, maybe other people’s lives are simple and my life just decided to be difficult for the sake of it. Or maybe I was secretly cursed as a baby, like that princess in sleeping beauty, except of course I’m no beauty. Yeah, that must have been what happened, some distant relative cursed me to live a horrible life. I mean surely no one can be this unlucky by chance. I bet it was that Aunt Tabatha my parents are always complaining about, I mean she is ugly enough to be a witch. I swear she has a wart on her nose and everything. So what was I talking about before I got talking about Tabatha and her wart? Oh yeah, the complete and total disaster that is my life.

By the way, my name’s Johanna Pearl. I’d love to tell you that I’m tall, with strawberry-blond hair and a body that Paris Hilton would envy. Unfortunately, I’m actually average height, verging on short, with messy, frizzy hair that is supposed to be blond, but actually looks more brown than yellow. I’m also still waiting to hit that growth spurt that will apparently stretch me out and make me look like I’m super thin. Until then I’ll have to make do with my fat, figureless, horrible body.

I took this online test a while ago that was supposed to say what type of movie your life most resembled. And of course it couldn’t say that my life resembled a comedy or action film or, god forbid, a romance film. I got the ‘you’re life resembles a disaster or tragedy film like The Day After Tomorrow or Titanic’.

I mean for god’s sake, how depressing is that? Even some online test thing that has only asked me like ten questions thinks that my life is a tragedy. I bet that half the people that get that answer so go and put their heads in an oven. I hope their families sue.

Anyway, sorry if I keep drifting off topic like that. But that test really, really, REALLY annoyed me. Especially as I know for a fact that Simone got that her life represents a romantic film. But then again she does have a different boy every few weeks, sometimes she even has two boys on the go. Which is so unfair considering that some of us haven’t even had one boyfriend.

Simone does look like a model though. She’s blonde with her hair in the trendiest of styles; wears the most trendy (in other words the most revealing) clothes and can eat like a cow, but still look anorexic. God I hate her. I know, I know, ‘just because other people are pretty or smart shouldn’t make you feel insecure’ blah blah blah. Or at least that’s what my mum always says whenever I start ranting about Simone. Minus the blah blah blah bit obviously.

Simone is such a cow though. She’s always competing with me just to prove how much better she is than me. Sometimes I just want to scream at her to shut up and leave me the hell alone. Matt is always telling me that I should assert myself more and stand up to her. But it’s just so hard!

Matt is my best friend and the only other person in this school that is not completely insane and does not hang on to Simone’s every word. I don’t know what I would do without him. When I moved here from America he totally helped me settle in and get used to all the crazy new things they do here in Britain. Such as driving on the left side of the road, boy my dad had trouble adjusting to that one, and also how everyone has to wear school uniform. I mean seriously what is up with that? As if I don’t look dorky enough with a brace and glasses, they have to make me wear a tie and a pleated skirt. Well thank you very much for that, it really did make me feel at home in Britain.

I’ve done it again haven’t I? Drifted completely off topic. No wonder my teachers are always complaining that I have trouble concentrating. But it’s not my fault; they should try and make their subject at least a tiny bit interesting.

Oh, you know what I said before about my life being a complete disaster? Well it just got a lot worse. Before the main problem back then was that my English teacher just told me that I’d got to the final of this story writing competition and now I’m going to have to read it out in front of the ENTIRE school. They seriously need to think of a better prize, such as chocolate. Oh, and this just gets better and better, because guess who else Matt says is a finalist. Yep that’s right, Simone. Someone just shoot me now.

To do list

 Kill Simone. Or kill myself. Whatever’s easier. Just kidding. Sort of.

 Pick up dry-cleaning

 Copy Matt’s homework. (I’m not a scrounger, I swear. He’s just so good at school stuff and I’m so rubbish. And he offers to do it. Well, sort of)

 Buy milk on way home

 Think of a good lie to get out of doing the competition thing

 Practice lying

Tuesday, Dear Diary,

Matt keeps saying that I’ll be great and that I’ll probably win the competition and I should just relax and practice writing a fantastic story. I swear it’s like he doesn’t know me at all, I will not be fine, never mind great. I’ll probably throw up or faint or something. I have a huge fear of public speaking. I’ve had some really traumatic experiences. But my mum is like ‘you’re not 6 anymore it’s really unlikely that you will wet yourself like you did during your school production of The Christmas story’. Me, I’m not so sure. And even if I manage to control that particular body function, I could still burp or muddle up my words or I could so totally faint.

This is just going to be a disaster. I can just tell that at every reunion I will be remembered as the girl that made a complete fool of herself during an assembly in front of the ENTIRE school. I must have done something really, really dreadful in a past life to deserve this. Maybe I was Hitler. No wait, that’s just stupid, I am nothing like Hitler, I’m the most pro-Jew person ever. Hell, I am Jewish. Wouldn’t that be such a great punishment for Hitler though? That he had to come back as a Jew? It would be very ironic, although it would probably be a better punishment to put him in a room with a bunch of his victims who are armed with big sticks and let them have 15 uninterrupted minutes with him. God what is wrong with me? I’m supposed to be writing a story for me to read out and beat Simone with and instead I’m wondering what would be the best punishment for Hitler. No wonder my teachers are always complaining that I have low concentration when I can’t seem to stick to a single subject for more than 5 minutes.

Must focus. Must focus. I wonder whether Simone is actually going to write her own story or just get one of the millions of fans that are hopelessly devoted to her to write it for her? No, I must focus, must not start ranting about Simone. Must focus on story. Must focus. Else I’ll end up on that stage with nothing to say while Simone has her perfect hair and perfect smile and reads her perfect story perfectly while all her perfect little fans stare at her in awe. Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick.

Wednesday, Dear Diary,

We had a new pupil today. Her name’s April. Mrs Young introduced her first thing today and then asked who would like to show her round school today and show her the ropes. And no one put their hand up. The poor thing looked like she was about to cry, so what could I do? I had to put my hand up. Even though she looked sort of scary. She has a nose piercing and you could see this skull/angel of death tattoo on her arm through the white school blouse. (Seriously that is how bad these shirts are, no matter what bra you wear, everyone can totally see it).

But, anyway, she then gave me this really nice smile and I thought she might not be that bad. Plus it’s not like anyone else is that desperate to come and sit next to me. My teacher always uses the chair next to me as the punishment chair. It’s like ‘you’ve been naughty, go sit by her, no way are you going to have fun sitting there’. But whatever, it’s not like I particularly want to sit by any of them either.

Sorry, wandered off the point again. Anyway, so April came and sat next to me and it turns out she is really nice. She is a bit of a Goth, but seeing that she doesn’t mind that I’m a bit of a loser, I guess that doesn’t matter to me. Before long she was telling me all about how her parents had made her move because she’d got kicked out of her last school and they apparently couldn’t live with the shame. Oh and guess what she got kicked out for? Stabbing a girl with a compass. I think she could tell that this news didn’t exactly put me at ease around her so she quickly explained why she did it.

‘She called my best friend a slapper. Which, yeah, she sort of was cause she had just stolen the girl’s boyfriend, but still no one calls my friends things like that. So I yelled at her. Then she slapped me and I then stabbed her in the chest with my compass. You’d have done the same I’m sure’.

Well I might have if I didn’t have such trouble asserting myself and was sort of afraid of conflicts. And also if I didn’t think it was ethically and morally wrong to hurt other people unless they are trying to rape or kill you. Then you’re allowed to do whatever you like to the little creep.

And that was my day at school. Pretty boring I know. But what can you do?

Memo to self: Keep sharp metal implements away from April at all times.

Thursday, Dear Diary,

Went to school. Got ignored by nearly everybody. Sat with friends at lunch i.e. April and Matt, who are getting on like a house on fire. Did homework when I got home. Then stuck head in oven because the oppressive boredom of my life became too much. Just kidding.

Something weird did happen today though, Sam Morgan, this total weirdo, came over and started talking to me during form time before April got there. He is apparently this big super genius and he spends all his time teaching stupid kids after school and helping teachers with their lessons, which is nice and everything, but, you know, still really weird. I wonder why he came over and chatted to me. Probably desperate, or he felt sorry for me. Still he is cute.

(so that's as much of it as I'm putting up at the moment. oh and by the way, the Hitler thing is not intended in any racist way so I'm sorry if it offends anyone here. it's really not meant like that though, i was just trying to show that Jo's mind was latching onto any topic in order to distract herself).