‘It’s OK, I’m wearing really big knickers!’. Louise Rennison
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © Louise Rennison 2000
First published in Great Britain by Piccadilly Press Ltd, 2000
Published by Scholastic Ltd, 2001
This edition published by HarperCollins Children’s Books, 2005
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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Source ISBN: 9780007218684
Ebook Edition © OCTOBER 2010 ISBN: 9780007405763
Version: 2018-12-04
To my dear family: Mutti, Vati, Sophie, Libbs, Hons, Eduardo Delfonso Delgardo, John S, Apee, Francesbirginia and especially Kimbo. Thanks you all for not killing me yet.
Also dedicated to my mates: Salty Dog, Jools, Jedbox, Badger, Elton, Jimjams, Jenks, Phil, Bobbins, Lozzer, the Mogul, Fanny, Dear GeH. MSH, Porky, Morgan, Alan D, Liz G, Tony G, Psychic Sue, Roge the Doge and Barbara D and the Ace Crew from school, Kim and Cock of the North xxxxxx.
An especial thank you to John, the Pope. Where would I have been without your wise advice– “Stop making such a fuss and just get on with it, you silly girl!”?
Heartfelt thanks and sympathy to Brenda, Jude, Emma and all the very fab people at Piccadilly.
And of course to Gillon and Clare– HURRAH!!
Contents
The Sex God has landed…and, er, taken off again
Further Confessions of Georgia Nicolson:
The Sex God has landed…and, er, taken off again
Sunday July 18th
My room
6:00 p.m.
Staring out of my bedroom window at other people having a nice life.
Who would have thought things could be so unbelievably pooey? I’m only fourteen and my life is over because of the selfishosity of so-called grown-ups. I said to Mum, “You are ruining my life. Just because yours is practically over there is no reason to take it out on me.”
But as usual when I say something sensible and meaningful she just tutted and adjusted her bra like a Russian roulette player. (Or do I mean disco thrower? I don’t know and, what’s more, I don’t care.) If I counted up the number of times I’ve been tutted at…I could open a tutting shop. It’s just SO not fair…How can my parents take me away from my mates and make me go to New Zealand? Who goes to New Zealand?
In the end, when I pointed out how utterly useless as a mum she was, she lost her rag and SHOUTED at me.
“Go to your room right now!”
I said, “All right, I’ll go to my ROOM!! I WILL go to my room!! And do you know what I’ll be doing in my room? No you don’t, so I’ll tell you! I’ll be just BEING in my room. That’s all. Because there is nothing else to do!!!!!!”
Then I just slammed off. Left her there. To think about what she has done.
Unfortunately it means that I am in my bed and it is only six o’clock.
7:00 p.m.
Oh Robbie, where are you now? Well, I know where you are now actually, but is this any time to go away on a footie trip?
On the bright side I am now the girlfriend of a Sex God.
7:15 p.m.
On the dark side, the Sex God doesn’t know his new girlfriend is going to be forced to go to the other (useless) side of the universe in a week’s time.
7:18 p.m.
I can’t believe that after all the time it has taken to trap the SG, all the make-up I have had to buy, the trailing about, popping up unexpectedly when he was out anywhere…all the planning…all the dreaming– it’s gone to waste. I finally get him to snog me (number six) and he says, “Let’s see each other but keep it quiet for a bit.” And at that moment, with classic poo timing, Mutti says, “We’re off to New Zealand next week.”
My eyes are all swollen up like mice eyes from crying. Even my nose is swollen. It’s not small at the best of times, but now it looks like I’ve got three cheeks. Marvellous. Thank you, God.
9:00 p.m.
I’ll never get over this.
9:10