Free My Madder Fatter Diary by Rae Earl

CRAP.
    Mum thinks I shouldn’t be annoyed but I bloody am.
    Me and a few others were standing round tonight in the hall with wine (WINE IN SCHOOL – LEGALLY MAD!!) and a teacher came over. She started saying stuff to people ‘I can see you doing very well at Cambridge’ and ‘you’re a natural for law’ and then she turned to me and said ‘And Rachel you’re just one of life’s survivors.’
    NOW WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!
    One of life’s survivors?! When I think of a survivor I think of someone clinging to a bit of wreckage avoiding sharks with half a gob of salt water. Is that all I’m worth?! Sod being a survivor. I want to be brilliant. I want to rip up the sky.
    Mum says she is saying that I’m tough. No. A survivor just survives. SOD SURVIVING.
    Pissed off. And Camembert should be banned. It’s like heroin. I was like Zammo from Grange Hill tonight for a piece.
    Friday 25.5.90
    7.35 p.m.
    Last proper day of school ever. We had chips. It was a bit moving when we put our trays on the conveyor belt for the last time. Normal life disappearing through a hatch waiting to be washed up.
    Saturday 26.5.90
    11.35 p.m.
    Oh why does he do it? Why does he hug me and stroke my hair. I push him away and joke it off because I’m a twat but it kills me.
    Once my A levels are over I’m going to stop dreaming and start living.
    Sunday 27.5.90
    3.50 p.m.
    THE FUNDAMENTAL THINGS THAT ARE WRONG WITH MY LIFE:
     
    THE EASIER STUFF
     
    1) A levels – ONLY DAYS AWAY!!
    2) My mental condition. Confused.
    3) People are very condescending to me because they’ve had sex. But actually WHAT DO THEY KNOW? I feel like saying ‘Oh yeah you may have had a boyfriend but what the hell do you actually KNOW?’ SERIOUSLY??!! Bollocks. THEY KNOW NOTHING. ZILCH! People say to me ‘Oh I bet you marry someone really nice!’ SO PATRONISING. What if I JUST WANT TO MARRY A REALLY HORNY TOTAL BASTARD SEX MACHINE??!!
    4) No-one really loves me. Nobody has given me a hug and said ‘Rae – I really love you.’ I mean I’m not loud and annoying ALL THE TIME! So why can’t they? Have I just got really bad breath?
     
    SPECIFIC PROBLEMS
     
    1) HADDOCK.
     
    Now this really is a sod of a problem.
    I know it sounds immature when I write it. I can’t say. Don’t want to encourage fate to kick me up the arse.
    I’ve GOT to change.
     
    1) Lose weight.
    2) Keep good bits.
    3) Get rid of shit bits.
     
    What a brilliant night down the pub. Atmosphere 400% on!
    Haddock came in. He told me he’d had a dream about me. He’d bought a Harley-Davidson and I’d bust it. It’s nice to be in his dreams even if I am breaking stuff.
    I just take the piss out of him all the time. Blood is blue and it comes out red. Same thing.
    Monday 28.5.90
    2.36 p.m.
    That last entry sounded so monumentally pretentious.
    I really need to start revising. Why can’t I just be a pub landlady? Or Bez from the Happy Mondays.
    Tuesday 29.5.90
    11.23 p.m.
    Mum has just tried to show me she can moonwalk. She can’t.
    Her impression of Mick Jagger is also crap. Pursing your lips together and strutting on the lino doesn’t make you the lead singer of the Rolling Stones. It makes you very annoying indeed especially when you’re in the way of the bloody fridge.
    Wednesday 30.5.90
    3.47 p.m.
    Nothing is going in my head. Nothing is sticking. I’ve just sung every word of ‘Look of Love’ by ABC though – even the bit where Martin Fry starts talking to himself. But can I remember the dates that Perkin Warbeck kicked off some shit? No. Don’t care anyway. Like Mort says, he’s got the same name as one of the Flumps so you can’t take him seriously.
    Thursday 31.5.90
    5.12 p.m.
    The reason why Mum is so happy is that Adnan is coming back on Friday. That explains everything – the singing, the dancing, the way she actually dusted for the first time since I had to have the doctor out in the middle of the night. Adnan is returning. Can he help me with my A levels? No. Is he an