Planet Janet Read online

  WEDNESDAY 3 JANUARY

  I think the Mad Cow’s really starting to lose it (she is pushing fifty). If she’s not picking fights with Sigmund, she’s picking them with me! I sat down to have a cup of tea with her this afternoon while she was cooking something and she went BERSERK because I sniffed the milk. I just wanted to make sure it hadn’t gone off. Is that a crime? I swear that I am not going to become grumpy and senile when I get old. I’m going to have a Young Heart and Soul, even when I’m sixty. And maybe plastic surgery.

  D says it sounds to her like the MC must be MENOPAUSAL!!! She says she’s heard of cases where the woman either won’t come out of her room for months or does weird things like painting the entire flat bright orange (sometimes on the OUTSIDE!!!). When her nan went through the menopause she thought that ghosts were after her and kept climbing into the washing machine because she thought she’d be safe there (it was a top loader).

  THURSDAY 4 JANUARY

  Went with Disha to exchange my three gift sets of Raspberry Ripple for three sets of White Musk, since Raspberry Ripple is très unsuitable for the Dark Phase (as Disha said, it sounds like an ice cream and intellectuals don’t eat ice cream; they eat brie). But the sales assistant wouldn’t exchange them because I didn’t have the receipts. I asked her where else she thought they came from, since they say Body Shop on them, but she was a right stubborn cow. Disha says I can always use them as presents for other people, as long as I don’t give her one.

  The Mad Cow was sitting in the kitchen, sniffing into a cup of tea, when Disha and I got back. I couldn’t tell whether or not she’d been crying, but she looked like she was getting into one of her Moods. We made ourselves scarce. Disha says the MC seems V TENSE lately, but I explained that it’s just her hormones. She’s up and down like a staircase. You never know what mood she’s going to be in. D says she hopes that if we ever get that old they’ll have invented some drugs to combat it.

  FRIDAY 5 JANUARY

  Andrew the Missing Link Jeffers, Justin’s best mate for reasons that will become obvious, accosted me in the kitchen while I was making myself a cup of tea. He wanted me to know that he thinks my friend Disha is v fit. I said that’s because she works out and has a black belt in karate, and he said that wasn’t what he meant. (Really? Um, duh…! I didn’t know that!) He said to tell her she has great tits. I told him to tell her himself.

  SATURDAY 6 JANUARY

  According to The Lives of the Great Feminists, Virginia Woolf is famous for saying that every woman should have a room of her own. You can tell right off that she didn’t live with my family. I woke up this morning to find the child my parents should NEVER have had standing over my bed taking pictures of me! (I wouldn’t sleep in the nude in this house in a heatwave.) It’s all the Mad Cow’s fault for getting him that new camera for Christmas. (She’s always spoiled him!) It’s digital or something like that and so he’s started taking pictures of US again. Of course, the MC’s on his side, as per usual. She says Justin doesn’t mean any harm; he’s just obsessed. Possessed, more like. Then she went off on one of her tangents, yammering on about how talented Justin is and how proud she is of him. (For pushing a button!) The MC says that Justin wants to experiment more with style, now that he’s made a bit of a name for himself. I said and what would that name be? Shithead? She thought I was joking. Personally I think she’s delusional. (I can only assume that my father the shrink hasn’t noticed this because he’s not home or they’re fighting or he’s in the Bunker pretending to be working but really sneaking fags.) It was soooo excruciatingly BORING. I was tempted to tell her that Justin takes pictures of her and Sigmund sleeping as well, but I decided to use the information to blackmail him instead. I need the money.

  Talked to Disha for EONS last night. It’s so civilized, being able to lie on my bed in privacy and have a conversation without everybody eavesdropping on my business or constantly interrupting to tell me the time or that they’re waiting for a call. I’m going to need another phone card soon.

  SUNDAY 7 JANUARY

  Disha and I hung out with the others at David’s again this afternoon, and this time Flynn managed to stay for more than two seconds. David and Nick were on the PlayStation as per usual, so Flynn suggested we go for a walk and then Marcus said he’d come too. Marcus got us laughing so much I had to go into a pub to use the loo. I pretended I was looking for my mother. After Marcus and Flynn went home Disha and I went back to mine. Justin and Andrew were in the kitchen. I went to the loo and Justin went off to get something and can you believe it? The Missing Link DID IT! He actually DID IT! He told Disha she had great tits! And then he tried to TOUCH THEM! I lied about Disha being a black belt, but she did take a self-defence course from the police last summer because her parents are refugees. She flipped Andrew over and he crashed into the fridge. Disha and I didn’t stop laughing for HOURS. I got yelled at by the MC for knocking most of the magnets off the fridge, of course. Like it was MY fault, right? And then she made ME pick them up, not Justin! Talk about INEQUALITY between the sexes! I should ask Sappho who I should complain to.

  MONDAY 8 JANUARY

  What an excruciating relief to get back to the real world after all that time imprisoned in the House of Horror! And also, of course, I was glad to see my many friends and Ms Staples (my English and FAVOURITE teacher). There was a lot to catch up on! Catriona Hendley spent most of the day boring everyone with tales of her excruciatingly wonderful holiday in NEW YORK (of course! Where else would she go; they’re not selling tickets to Mars yet, are they?), and all the famous people she met and all the amazing restaurants she ate in, and all the astounding things she did (like shopping till – cue hysterical laughter here – she couldn’t shop any more!!!). Step aside, Columbus. You’d think SHE discovered America, the way she went on. It was TOTALLY revolting. Not all was gloom and doom, however. Disha, Siranee, Alice and I all noticed that Catriona had put on a few pounds eating in all those amazing restaurants. Her chest bones aren’t protruding as much as usual. Unfortunately this also means that I’ll NEVER be able to go to New York unless I lose at least a stone beforehand. And so far I apparently haven’t lost a gram. I’m going to have to stop my diet until the MC buys a decent set of scales (e.g. ones that work). What’s the point of starving if every time I weigh myself I’m heavier than I was the time before?

  Wore my new boots to school for the first time today. EVERYONE admired them. Even Catriona Hendley said they were très cool and asked where I got them. Wiping a tear from my eye, I sadly had to tell her they were the last pair in the shop. Which is why they’re a little tight (though I didn’t tell her that, of course). I was starting to limp by the end of the day, but I don’t think anyone noticed.

  TUESDAY 9 JANUARY

  I asked Mr Belakis, my art teacher, why there aren’t any Great Women Artists and he said what about Frida Kahlo, to name but one. Then he told me to read some book by Germaine Greer. Found Germaine in my diary. Apparently there are HORDES of Great Women Artists, but no one ever tells you about them. Then I found Frida in my diary. Apparently she had one eyebrow, a moustache and slept with TONS of people of BOTH sexes. No wonder no one ever talks about her.

  Had to soak my feet when I got home because of the blisters. Despite the pain I was in, the Mad Cow threw a MAJOR wobbly because I used the stewpot (it was the largest thing I could find). She said why didn’t I use the mop bucket? I didn’t know we had a mop bucket, but even if I had I wouldn’t have put my feet in it. (After she’s used it to wash the floors?) Disha says I can probably stretch them (the boots, not my feet).

  I mentioned Frida Kahlo to Sappho, so she’ll know I’m finally using something she gave me. Sappho said Frida’s husband (who was also a famous artist) had a moustache and slept with TONS of people too so what was the big deal?

  WEDNESDAY 10 JANUARY

  There really isn’t any justice in this world, is there? The school magazine met this afternoon, and the next issue’s going to have TWO poems by Catriona God
Died and Left Me in Charge Hendley that she wrote about New York. One’s called “Skyline” (how très original!) and the other’s entitled “Invisible People” (about the poor – like she’s ever met any). They’re both really stupid poems if you ask me. Esp. the one about the invisible poor. All I can say is New York must be v different to London. Here poor people are right in your face. And you can’t move down the street without tripping over their blankets and dogs etc. Meanwhile, NOBODY liked the story I submitted before Christmas. They found it confusing. But isn’t life confusing? I talked to Ms Staples about it in private. She had some v constructive things to say (good imagery! nice use of language! gripping idea!), but she says I need to work a bit harder on my plots. I told her I thought plots belonged in gardens, and that to conform to rigid rules about stuff like that stifled my Creative Spirit. Ms Staples laughed and said that she hoped I didn’t take that line when it came to my GCSEs because the education authority likes plots. I could never be a teacher. It must suck the Soul right out of you (e.g. Jocelyn Bandry, though it is possible that she never had a soul in the first place). I feel bad for poor Ms Staples, who, unlike my female parent, does have a Passionate Soul and a questing, intelligent mind despite the personal lack of talent that must’ve driven her into teaching. How depressing it must be to work for people who don’t understand literature or art or the true nature of life! I told her I’d do my best. She gave me a grateful smile. It’s a BIG responsibility, having to keep Ms Staples’s level of hope up, but I feel I’m old enough now to handle it. After all, that’s part of what life’s about, isn’t it?

  THURSDAY 11 JANUARY

  What a day! I don’t think any more could go wrong if I tried! The Mad Cow forgot to iron the grey skirt I was going to wear, so I had to find something else that fit my mood. It took EONS. I missed my usual bus, of course, and then I couldn’t find my pass. I took everything out of my bag but it wasn’t anywhere. You should’ve heard the driver moan about how much stuff I carry around with me. (What’s it to him? He’s not my mother!) I asked him if he thought I was lugging around all these school books to get a free ride! I mean, really, if there was ever a man in DESPERATE need of a life, this was the man. When I finally got to school, Disha turned up wearing almost the exact same shirt I was wearing, so we went back to hers so she could change. We were really only seconds late, but Stalin (aka Mr Wilkins, our tutor) wouldn’t listen to our perfectly reasonable explanation and gave us detention. (Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. I can’t remember where I heard that, but it’s true.) Then it turned out that besides forgetting to iron my skirt, the Mad Cow forgot to remind me to take my PE kit again. I told the Anti-Barbie that I had cramps so bad I thought I was giving birth and she let me go to the library instead of running around the field having my shins clubbed. The bad news was that the sight of me reminded the librarian, Mrs Higgle, that I still had two books outstanding. I tried to explain that I thought I’d brought them back, but she said that was what I said last time. It’ll be a note home next, and then Sigmund will get on my case, blah blah blah. The man can talk you into unconsciousness. I hope the Mad Cow can find the books.

  LATER

  OH, TRAGEDY! OH, DARK DAY OF HORROR AND GLOOM! I CAN’T FIND MY MOBE! And I thought nothing more could go WRONG today! How ironic is that? Why does everything happen to ME? I must’ve dropped it on the bus this morning, which is understandable considering all the trauma I was put through! The last time I remember having it was when I rang Sara Dancer at the bus stop. The parents will dehydrate me if they find out.

  FRIDAY 12 JANUARY

  I’m meant to be tidying my room. (“If you want to go to Disha’s tonight, you’d better tidy that room!” I don’t know why she doesn’t put it on a tape loop and save herself the trouble of saying the same thing OVER AND OVER.) The good news is that I thought I heard her coming to check on me (she was definitely a prison guard in one of her previous lives), so I dived under my bed in cleaning mode, and guess what I found? The yoga book I got for Christmas! I’d forgotten all about it. The woman on the cover is sitting cross-legged and smiling. There are dozens of quotes on the back from ordinary people who say that yoga changed their lives. It looks pretty easy. I can smile, and I can sit cross-legged, so what could be so hard? Maybe I’ll give it a try. I can see yoga fitting in v well with the Dark Phase. Ms Staples does yoga and she says it’s v Spiritual, as well as healthy. I wonder if you can lose weight doing yoga (since dieting obviously doesn’t work).

  SATURDAY 13 JANUARY

  Had a v good time at Disha’s as per usual. Her parents aren’t as obtrusive as some. We were going to have an Exploring Other Dimensions Night, but I left the book on witchcraft at home and Disha couldn’t find the tarot cards I gave her for Christmas (you’ve got to be given them; you can’t buy them for yourself), so we decided to have an Intellectual Night instead. We were going to get out this brilliant Japanese film Ms Staples told us about, but Blockbuster didn’t have it. We were going to listen to intelligent music and read poetry instead, but we couldn’t find the jazz station. All was FRUSTRATION AND DOOM until Disha remembered that Mrs Foster next door (who is civilized and has cable) lent her a copy of Clueless last year that we never watched. Ms Staples says Clueless is based on a Jane Austen novel, so we reckoned that was just as good as something in Japanese. We finally found it under some stuff on the floor of Disha’s wardrobe. But then frustration and doom turned to AMAZEMENT AND SHOCK! Someone who was probably Mr Foster taped over Clueless with an ADULT MOVIE. We’re not naïve – we’ve seen the magazines on the top shelf in the newsagent’s and stuff like that, of course – but both Disha and I come from homes where pornography is frowned upon. Even Sigmund and the MC, who are major believers in free speech, say it’s demeaning to women. Sappho said if she ever found Justin with porn she’d make him eat it, and not even Justin would think that was an idle threat. As for the Paskis, they were both arrested for disorderly conduct when someone tried to open a sex shop in their old neighbourhood. (Mrs P whacked the store owner over the head with a sign that said CHILDREN LIVE HERE.) We didn’t watch much (you don’t have to watch much to get the idea, and after that it’s sort of boring). Disha says now she’ll never be able to see the Fosters (esp. Mr Foster) without feeling embarrassed. We talked a bit about the boys we know and whether or not they’re into porn, which is a bit weird and creepy to think about. Then Disha said could I imagine either of our mothers straddling a chair in black lace suspenders with tassles hanging from her nipples and her tongue out like that and we practically died laughing.

  When I got back to Bleak House this afternoon, the Mad Cow was lying in wait (and not in suspenders and tassles, believe me. She might be into S&M though. I have no trouble picturing her with a whip). I barely got the door shut before she started in. “What did I tell you…? What did you promise…? I thought you were going to clean up that pigsty before you went out last night?” Same old same old. Then she literally dragged me over to the sink so I could see all the plates and stuff she’d found under my bed. AND she actually made me count them: six glasses, seven mugs, two plates, nine spoons, three bowls and Great-Grandmother Rose’s WILLOW PLATE!!! (Am I INSANE? How could I treat a family heirloom like that?) I told her to chill out. “A woman your age shouldn’t get so excited,” I told her. “You’ll give yourself a stroke.” For a minute there I thought she was going to forget about her commitment to non-violent parenting and give me a stroke, but instead she asked me to let her know when my planet was ready to receive transmissions from Earth so she wasn’t just wasting her breath all the time. And then she told me to GO AND TIDY my room, and not to come down till it was done. I may spend the rest of my life up here. (At least I would if I had a phone!)

  SUNDAY 14 JANUARY

  Disha wanted to know if I managed to stretch my new boots. I groaned out loud! Disha’d said I should wet them before I stuffed them full of newspaper so they’d be more flexible when I stretched them, so on Wednesday I fil
led the famous mop bucket with water and left them in it in the garden shed. I TOTALLY forgot about them! Disha said when she told me to soak them she meant for an hour or so, not nearly a WEEK. What a DISASTER!!! I must’ve been cursed at birth or something. They look all funny, and the heel came off the right boot. Disha said I could take it to a cobbler, but I was too depressed to ask her what a cobbler is.