Authors: Dyan Sheldon
It was just us today. Sigmund, the Mad Cow, their other – less successful – progeny, and Nan. Which was even more dire than it sounds. The only bright spot was that Nan and the MC
loved
their candles (I guess she forgot what I gave her for her birthday – that’s gratitude for you!), though this was more than made up for by the fact that Sigmund and the Biggest Argument for Abortion acted like I’d given them something second-hand. By lunchtime Nan was well into God mode and the parents were well into the Xmas booze. There was a major row. Even worse than last year. Sigmund’s under orders not to argue with Nan at Christmas because it’s her favourite day next to Easter, but how long he holds to that depends on how much he’s had to drink. Today he lasted till it was time to say grace. (Nan
always
has to say grace, even when it isn’t Xmas. Even at breakfast, for God’s sake!) For the first time since I’ve known him, Sigmund volunteered for the job. The Mad Cow gave him one of her Death by Laser Looks, but Nan was delighted. (You’d think she’d know better; he’s been her son for more than half a century!) Sigmund closed his eyes and bowed his head, all solemn like, and then he started thanking God for the millions of people in the world who suffer hunger, poverty, oppression, torture, injustice etc. “We’re all very grateful that it isn’t us,” said Sigmund. “Very, very grateful.” Justin (who has less of a sense of humour than he has brains if you ask me) thought it was hilarious, but neither Nan nor the Mad Cow so much as cracked a smile. Nan said there was a lot of evil in the world, and it had nothing to do with God, and Sigmund said how did you get to be the Supreme Creator and not have anything to do with evil? Nan said man had a
weak and wicked
side, and Sigmund wanted to know whose fault that was. Sigmund said that if God
had
created man, then He’d made a pretty big mess of it, hadn’t He? But Nan’s not one of those meek Christians. She started snapping and bristling and reminding Sigmund how long she was in labour with him (two weeks, apparently). Sigmund took his plate and a bottle of wine into his office (or the Bunker, as the MC’s started calling it because he spends so much time there lately). He stayed there for the rest of the afternoon, which didn’t exactly kill the party. At least we got to finish eating in
Peace
. Sappho came round after we’d eaten because she’s a vegan as well as a pagan and she won’t sit in the same room as a turkey unless it’s alive and extremely well.
Here’s what I got for Christmas:
(1) A MOBE! This is the best present I ever got in my ENTIRE life! Especially since it came from Sigmund. Last year he gave me a gift voucher for Marks and Spencer (how tacky is that? He said I could use it to BUY UNDERWEAR – as if!!!) and this book called
Freud for Beginners
, which I dumped in the book bank. Sappho said giving a teenager a mobile phone was the equivalent of giving her a spear or a bow and arrow in more primitive cultures. Everyone laughed like she was making a joke, but I think she has a point. Must discuss with D.
(2) Besides the mobe, I got fifty quid’s worth of calls! That should last me EONS.
(3) A well wicked pair of knee-high black leather boots with the most incredible heels that the Mad Cow only got me because she said she wouldn’t have any peace if she didn’t. (I really had to turn the screws for this, believe me. I even had to GO with her to get them, because I knew she’d never buy them for me if I weren’t there to goad her on. I had enough trouble just getting her into the shop!)
(4) A T-shirt that says
JESUS LOVES YOU
from Nan (all four of us got the same thing). It’s a slight improvement on last year when we all got pocket Bibles, but mine was in Korean.
(5) A pack of tarot cards from Willow (aka the Dippy Hippy) next door.
(6) A book on yoga from Justin. I’m not exactly paralysed with joy by this one. Either Sigmund put him up to it, or Justin thinks it’s funny to torture and torment me like this. What I really wanted was money for a class. Ms Staples goes to one at the yoga centre, which she says is v cool. I even bought this v wicked neon-purple leotard and matching leggings in case there were any deeply spiritual but excruciatingly attractive blokes about, but Sigmund refused to pay for the course. He said my piano, swimming, computer and pottery lessons cost him THOUSANDS, and all he has to show for it is a piano nobody ever plays, an antique computer no one uses and a bowl with a round bottom that he keeps his paper clips in.
(7) Three lots of bath stuff from Body Shop. (One from Flynn, one from Marcus and one from David. They must have all asked Disha what aroma I like because they’re all Raspberry Ripple. This could be a problem, because Raspberry Ripple doesn’t exactly fit with the Dark Phase. White Musk would be better.)
What I didn’t get was an electric razor. God knows I dropped enough hints. And I practically BLEED TO DEATH every time I shave my legs. But I suppose I should’ve known I had as much chance of getting an electric razor as I had of getting a car. Even though Sigmund throws a MEGA wobbly every time I borrow his razor, and is ALWAYS championing women and blathering on about what a feminist he is because sometimes he washes the dishes and stuff like that, he isn’t v interested in female things. (I once asked him to get me some pads while he was in the chemist’s and he practically went into cardiac arrest!) And I get no sympathy for that sort of thing from the MC either. Not only is she related to Sappho (who has hair under her ARMS!!!), but she’s so far beyond being a sexual object that she’s pretty much into the chimp look herself.
Oh, yes, and I also got (8) this excruciatingly cool top from Disha (it’s black with the outline of a bat in purple glitter – V DARK!).
Disha had to go to her aunt’s for dinner and her father made her leave her mobe at home. (D says getting a mobe isn’t exactly the modern equivalent of getting your own spear because nobody was going to take your spear away from you because you used it too much, were they?) Anyway, since I’m stuck all alone in the
House of Horror
I reckon this is a good time to put you in the picture re ME!
VITAL INFORMATION ABOUT ME:
Name: Janet Foley Bandry.
Age: Sixteen years and almost two months.
What I’m Like: I’m outgoing, but I can be quiet and v thoughtful – I don’t consider myself superficial at all. I like to think about life and all the BIG questions a lot. Everybody says I have a wicked sense of humour. (I believe laughter is v important. I mean, what do you have if you don’t have laughter? You have tears.) I’m interested in EVERYTHING, except things that are BORING. I’m pretty sure I’m heterosexual, even though there’s lesbianism in the family and Sigmund’s cousin Bryan is married to a bloke named Ethan. But I’m not just a thinker. I’m an action person too and I am planning a life that is full of
Romance and Adventure
.
Parents: The Mad Cow, Jocelyn Bandry, forty-five if she’s a day, teacher (it’s just like they say: those who can’t do anything, teach); and Sigmund, Robert Bandry, fifty-five, some sort of psychotherapist.
Siblings: The Biggest Argument for Abortion, Justin Bandry, eighteen, dweeble and general cosmic fungus.
Favourite Colours: They used to be red and blue when I was younger, but now that I’m more mature and about to embark upon my Dark Phase they’re
black and purple
.
Favourite Foods:
(1) Hamburgers with lots of stuff on them.
(2) Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.
(3) Chips (esp. with gravy).
(4) Fried chicken.
(5) Smoked salmon with cream cheese. I’ve only had this once, at Disha’s, because it’s too excruciatingly sophisticated for my family (who think a shred of paper towel is a serviette), but I really loved it (proving yet again that I was meant for greater things!).
Favourite Subjects in School: English and art.
Favourite Things in the Universe:
(1)
My Best Friend
, Disha Paski.
(2) Books.
(3) Films.
(4) Music.
(5) Hanging out with my mates.
(6) Exploring other dimensions and stuff like that.
(7) LIFE!!!
(8) Cats. It’s no mystery why the Egyptians worshipped them, is it? They’re not soppy and weak like dogs, but strong and v independent, qualities I definitely admire.
(Other things I really like are rainy nights, the moon, plain Bounty bars, tortilla chips, triple chocolate mousse, really big jumpers, silk, cold sheets, watching telly in the dark, pigs etc.)
Most Hated Things in the Universe:
(1) PE and the Anti-Barbie (Mrs don’t-get-your-knickers-in-a-twist Wist, my PE teacher).
(2) Science.
(3) Maths.
(4) Anything boring.
(5) Catriona Hendley.
(6) Cruelty and injustice.
Life Ambition: I’m not sure yet. I reckon I can work that out once I’m at university – if I go. I may go to art school instead, even though Justin goes to art school, which is hardly a recommendation. (Personally I think calling what Justin does art is pushing it. I mean, anybody can take a photo. We’ve got ALBUMS full of the bloody things, to prove my point. People don’t queue for hours to see the
Mona Lisa
because da Vinci had a good camera, do they?) But I, of course, do not merely take photos; I’m a painter, so art’s still a v definite possibility. On the other hand, literature is also a possibility. (I lean more towards literature because there are quite a few Great Women Writers but all the Great Artists are men. I don’t see much point in entering a field with such limited potential.) On the other hand, maybe I’ll travel and find myself in India or Australia or some place like that instead, which is something both artists and writers often do.
Some Things That Really Annoy Me:
(1) My family.
(2) Women with pushchairs (you can’t move without tripping over one).
(3) Pop music.
(4) People who pick their noses on the bus etc.
(5) People who talk to themselves out loud in public.
(6) People who never listen to what other people are saying (esp. if the people not being listened to are in their teens).
(7) Catriona Hendley.
That’s not absolutely everything, and I do change my mind (which is, of course, a sign of personal growth as well as a
Creative Nature
), but it gives you a rough idea.
Two whole days of family festivities is about all I can bear without applying for citizenship in another country, so since Disha was dragged to Kent to see some old gene-sharer I sought refuge at Sara Dancer’s. Sara Dancer lives with her dad because she had this GINORMOUS fight with her mother in the summer and her mother said that if she hated it so much living with her she should go and live with her father. Sara says her father’s not exactly COOL (he’s an accountant) but it’s a lot less stressful living with him than with her mother because he doesn’t give a toss if there are dishes in the sink etc. Sara says the difference between living with a male parent and a female parent is like the difference between buying your groceries in a superstore and in the corner shop. Sara Dancer says she thinks she may DO IT soon. She says she can’t stop thinking about sex, so why not? I said because she never has more than two dates with the same boy, and she agrees that this is her MAJOR stumbling block. And also she reckons that though it would be easy to do it with the Johnny Depp of
Sleepy Hollow
, and maybe with Russell Crowe, she’s not so sure about anyone she actually knows. Which is probably just as well since Sara’s mother would kill her if Sara did it and she found out.
Talked to D on my mobe after she got home from her mission of mercy, which was (surprise, surprise) incredibly boring. (D says she doesn’t know how ANYONE could live anywhere but London but I pointed out that true
Creative Spirits
can draw inspiration from anywhere. Look at Van Gogh – he was always doing flowers.) Wound up having a v intense conversation. D says it’s no wonder that Sara can’t stop thinking about SEX since it’s always being pushed in your face. Songs about sex, ads using sex, films about sex. It just goes on and on… Disha says she reckons if everybody had good sex (or even bad sex) on a regular basis they wouldn’t need to talk about it all the time. I asked D if she thinks it’s man’s nature to deceive himself, and she says Shakespeare’s always banging on about that. D says I’m definitely going to be a natural at the Dark Phase. I think I must have what Sigmund calls “a low libido” (apparently another thing I can thank the Mad Cow for), because I’m not sex mad at all. What I think about a lot more than sex is
Falling in Love
. I want it to be like Romeo and Juliet or Jane Eyre and Mr Rochester. I want to be swept away by
Passion
, a hopeless fool for
Love
! (Not like Willow’s friend Samantha, who seems to get swept away every time some bloke buys her dinner.) Disha agrees with me about love and passion, of course, but she says she’s afraid we may have a long wait before we find men who inspire those feelings. She says look at the boys at school – most of them couldn’t inspire a drop of water from a rain cloud. I said not even Flynn or Marcus? Disha says she likes them both as people, and she does see that each in his way is more attractive than most of them, but she once saw Marcus run a piece of dental floss from one nostril to the other, which pretty much deleted passion from that menu. And she’s not TOTALLY sure about Flynn, but at least he doesn’t wear trainers, which is so tr
è
s passé. (I mean, really, the parents both own a pair!)
Went to get the paint for my room today. Disha couldn’t come because her mother was pissed off about something and made her stay in to help her with the housework. (At least that’s one thing the MC wouldn’t even
consider
! She learned her lesson the time she made me do the vacuuming and the Hoover caught fire.) There was this V OBNOXIOUS man on the bus who told me off because I was talking to Disha on my mobe. I couldn’t believe it! He said I should get a life instead of spending my parents’ hard-earned money telling my friends I was on a bus. I told him I already had a LIFE, and it included being part of the age of communication, and that he was the one who should get a life instead of butting in on someone’s private conversation. People are TOO MUCH! Really. It’s no wonder the sensitive suffer.