I have written a diary since I was 6. My mum has painstakingly kept every one of these books in a box, with my old Barbie dolls, school blazer and my twenty-first key. Writing by hand became somewhat of a bother after a while, so eventually I just saved files and files of diarised crap on my PC. So you can imagine my delight when I discovered the world of blogging. A diary, where people can actively tell me whether I’m Crazypants personified or if I’m perfectly reasonable in screaming obscenities about wayward ex-lovers.
Every now and then, I haul out the box, or flitter through the thousands of Word documents. Categorically, I have a record for my entire life thus so far. If, by some miracle of God, I become famous for my differently-gifted vocal prowess, I don’t need to write an autobiography. Some poor sod can tack one together using the reams of sometimes eligible documenti I have stored on my computer, on the Net and in boxes in the closet.
But this isn’t about me being famous at the minute. As tempting as it is to dream about the paparazzi catching me mid hair-curler in a skimpy negligee, nipping out in the dead of night to buy a latte. This is a rough, but evidential timeline of diarised content. Evidential because, although juvenile and deconstructed, one gets the feeling that I could’ve forecasted my life from age 6.
- 1987, March15: Humphrey my hamster died. My friend squeezed it and throwed it on the floor.
- 1989, January 18: Shane showed me his treehouse. I showed him my cookie. He says he’s never seen one before.
- 1992, June 6: I’m in Amsterdam. Dad put his hand over my eyes when we were walking down the street. But I already saw the naked lady in the window. It smells funny here.
- 1993, May 18: We’re on our St Lucia school trip. I got my period for the first time last night. How do I tell Mr Andrews why I can’t snorkel tomorrow? This is so embarrassing I might as well just die this second.
- 1994, January 24: I’m finally at boarding school. The other girls seem nice and I have unpacked my trunk. But I’m missing home like mad. Had to polish the Head Girl’s shoes, and I asked her what a ‘blow job’ means. She said I’d find out in good time. Whatever.
- 1994, August 28: I grabbed someone! I’m not green anymore! Luckily he had braces too, so it wasn’t too blind. I wore my Doc Maartens and a body suit. He phoned last night, but I was too scared to talk to him, so I asked a prefect to take a message.
- 1995, New Year’s Day: Huge party last night. With my parents and their crazy friends. We stole Hunter’s Gold. I think I got drunk. Cos mum said I was showing off and being impossible.
- 1996, July 6: I fucking hate everybody at the moment. My parents are giving me hell, I hate school, and I just want to run away from here. I can’t even listen to my music loud. They are being completely unreasonable.
- 1997, November 14: Oh shit. A group of us are getting suspended because we bunked out of school. The folks are seriously fucked off. I’ve been grounded. This is SO not fair. Can’t they see I just want to be free? I am a sensible person. I can handle nightclubs! Now I can’t even see my boyfriend. They always have to ruin my fun.
- 1998, June 2: Biology final tomorrow. Sometimes I wonder how learning the geometrics of the fucking ear is going to somehow shape my life. I have to sit and learn the mechanics of the cochlear off by heart. Somebody help me.
- 1999, January 7: I am coping with life in France just barely. Save the date I went on with some Jean-Michel where I had to eat glazed frogs legs in a pre-Revolution gothic crypt. Then he tried to get in my pants. I’m over it. I was over it before it even began.
- 2000, February 12: It’s orientation week at varsity. Last night I couldn’t remember where my res was, or even that I’m in Cape Town, nevermind the whereabouts of my actual room. I think I snogged Warren. This is not good.
- 2000, February 13: Great. Now Warren’s stalking me. I’m hiding out in my room for the whole day, as he’s sitting outside waiting for me to come out.
- 2001, July 23: Priscilla hasn’t done the fucking dishes again. But I won’t say anything in case she yells at me. She’s completely hormonal, like, all 365 days of the year. This is a digs for crying out loud.
- 2002, January 14: S and I have been in Colorado for a month. There’s fresh powder this morning, so I took a skiing break without clocking out. Getting paid to ski - now that’s what I’m talking about. We got stoned in the Happy Hut with a bunch of Kiwis. Not sure how I got out the fucking conifer plantation alive.
- 2003, November 28: S and I are going to Thailand tomorrow. Let it be known I will be having sex every single day and drinking Mai Thais on the double, on Phi Phi island. Leonardo di Caprio filmed The Beach here. I will sit where he sat.
- 2004, May 7: I bought a fuck-off suit yesterday. That’ll show my editor I mean business.
Happy Youth Day for tomorrow everyone!