My Dating Disasters Diary

by Liz Rettig

  After Liz answers, everyone will leap out from their hiding places and shout, ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!’

  Sounds easy enough. And fun. Wish my parents would bother to do something exciting like that for me.

  THURSDAY JUNE 24TH

  We arrived at Liz’s at exactly ten past six. Liz wanted to go straight upstairs to her room but I persuaded her to go into the living room first to look for the TV guide.

  When we went in I could see a man’s shoes poking out under the floor-length curtains and the tip of a yellow party hat peeking over the sofa, but Liz didn’t notice anything – probably because she wasn’t expecting anyone to be there. I knew that some of the guests would be hiding under the kitchen table but I couldn’t see any of them.

  I said loudly, ‘You must be disappointed you’re not getting a birthday party this year.’

  Liz shrugged. ‘Not really. I think I’m getting too old for that kind of stuff now. I’d rather spend my birthday getting totally wasted at a club in town, then snogging the face off some really hot guy.’

  ‘You don’t really mean that, Liz,’ I said, desperately pointing with my eyes to the feet under the curtains.

  But Liz didn’t notice my attempted warning. ‘Yeah I do. And anyway, I won’t be sorry to be missing that awful birthday cake Aunt Marian makes every year. About as light and airy as a doorstep – don’t know who ever told her she could bake.’

  ‘But you love Aunt Marian’s birthday cake. You know you do,’ I said, frantically jerking my thumb in the direction of the yellow party hat behind the sofa.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Liz said sarcastically. ‘About as much as I like Aunt Grace’s crap presents. Honestly, they get cheaper and crappier every year. I mean, it’s not as though she’s mean with her own kids. Total spoiled brats, the pair of them. Thank God I won’t have to put up with those two toni—’

  ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!’ Liz’s mum screamed, leaping from behind the couch before Liz could say anything else.

  Oh God.

  Even though Liz pretended she’d noticed the hidden guests and was just winding people up for a laugh, the rest of the evening was pretty awkward. Liz forced herself to eat four huge heavy slabs of birthday cake while saying ‘Mmm, delicious!’ after practically every bite but I don’t think her Aunt Marian was fooled.

  Liz also made a great fuss over the saucer-sized orange plastic earrings her Aunt Grace had got her. ‘These are gorgeous. Thank you so much.’ She put them on and wore them all evening even though her earlobes turned green. But it was no use and everyone left early looking totally pissed off.

  God, surprise birthday parties are an awful idea. Hope I’m never, ever involved in one again.

  FRIDAY JUNE 25TH

  At the last assembly before the summer holidays our head teacher, Mr Menzies, told us we had won the prize for the most environmentally aware school in Glasgow. This is because we recycle nearly all our rubbish and last year the biology department started an organic garden project beside the football pitch. Our prize would be ten sacks of organic compost.

  This is going to be a pretty useless prize as Mr Smith is having the garden concreted over because he got fed up with boys peeing on the compost heap and pretending they were recycling when they just couldn’t be bothered with the two-minute walk to the toilets.

  Don’t blame Mr Smith but I do think recycling (within limits) to save the environment is so important. Unlike Mum. Caught her this morning just shoving all the rubbish into one bag. I had to fish it out again and put it into separate paper, glass, plastic and metal containers. When I complained about it she just said, ‘I’m throwing rubbish out, not sodding filing.’

  Typical.

  We finished at lunch time. Liz, Gary, Ian and I all went to McDonald’s to celebrate but Chris went to Pizza Hut with Emily. Don’t suppose I’ll see him all summer now. Wish he’d never met Emily, but I suppose if it wasn’t her it would have been some other stupid girl he’d dump all his friends for.

  SATURDAY JUNE 26TH

  The only thing worse than not going anywhere on holiday is going on holiday with your embarrassing parents, especially if you are the only daughter tagging along behind like a totally sad teenager who has no life and no friends.

  Angela has refused to come this year, saying she is too old to go on holiday with parents and can be depended on to look after the house by herself while Mum and Dad are away. And they’ve agreed. I mean, what other self respecting seventeen-year-old could be trusted to spend a fortnight in a parentless house without hosting wild parties full of gatecrashers, traffic cones and policemen’s helmets?

  Can’t say I blame her for avoiding two weeks of trying to pretend you are not remotely related to your drunken parents, but what about me? Without anyone else there it’s going to be so much harder to convince people that my parents don’t belong to me. Who’s going to think I’m in Spain on my own?

  My parents, as usual, have been totally unsympathetic. My dad says I’ll make friends my own age and have a great time. Yeah, right. Like I’m three years old or something and can bond with some other infant while playing in the sandpit. Don’t they realize I’m a teenager now? What am I supposed to do? Saunter up to a crowd of people I’ve never seen before and say casually, ‘Hey, you don’t know me and I’ve absolutely no idea who you are, or what you’re like, but would you like to be my friends please?’ I mean, as if. I’d rather be a sad loner than a laughing stock.

  My mum, if anything, is worse than Dad. She says that she and Dad work their fingers to the bone for me and what thanks do they get? Then she tells me to shut my moaning face or she’ll shut it for me.

  Really hate my parents sometimes: they just so totally do not get it.

  SUNDAY JUNE 27TH

  Moaned to Liz about it today, but she wasn’t very sympathetic: her parents have told her they’re not going on holiday this year because of having to replace everything after the burglary.

  ‘Honestly,’ she grumbled, ‘why can’t they just get a loan like everyone else? Their meanness is probably due to being toilet-trained too early, but that’s hardly my fault, is it?’

  Don’t know what toilet training had to do with anything but decided not to argue about it – Liz was in a really bad mood, especially as she’d bought flip-flops and sunglasses with her pocket money last week. ‘And for what?’ she moaned. ‘Like I’m going to get any use out of them in Glasgow. I’d have been better off buying an umbrella and wellies.’

  We spent the rest of the afternoon slagging off our parents, who we agreed were totally mean, insensitive and uncaring. Wondered if we could put ourselves up for adoption, hopefully to find parents who were never embarrassing and always generous and let us do whatever we liked.

  WEDNESDAY JUNE 30TH

  My mum has been talking to Liz’s mum, and guess what? Liz can come on holiday with us!!

  I was so excited when Mum told me that I actually threw my arms around her and hugged her voluntarily for the first time since my fourth birthday, when she bought me a two-wheeler bike without stabilizers. Can still remember how fantastic it felt riding a proper bike for the first time. Just a pity it got trashed later that day because I left it in the lane where the garbage truck was reversing. But still, I’d had a whole morning riding a proper bike without the shame of stabilizers (which I so never needed in the first place) and the bin men kindly took it to the dump for me without telling Mum so I could pretend someone had stolen it.

  Anyway, Mum was quite moved by my show of affection today, I think, although all she said was, ‘Still as flat as an ironing board then. Bloody hell, Peter Pan right enough. We’ll need to put you on hormones.’

  But nothing she said could possibly annoy me now. At last, a proper holiday with a real friend instead of my sad boring sister. So love my parents sometimes.

  Also, as Liz has pointed out, it might be the perfect opportunity to get a real boyfriend and lose my (now shameful) virgin lips status.

  Feel this is going to be t
he most exciting holiday of my whole life.

  SATURDAY JULY 10TH

  Went shopping for holiday stuff with Mum. Didn’t need to go bikini shopping unfortunately as the one I got two years ago still fits, sort of. Still, at least it’s the first bikini not bought at the children’s department and there’s another week to go before we leave. Maybe my breasts will grow a bit in that time or in the heat of Spain.

  WEDNESDAY JULY 14TH

  Was really surprised when Chris called me today and asked if I wanted to go into town with him to check out the new game shop that had just opened and maybe get a burger or something.

  I said, ‘Why me? Won’t Emily go with you? Or Gary maybe?’

  ‘Emily and I have split up. I haven’t asked Gary. Thought it might be nice for us to go. I haven’t seen you since school ended. And, well, like you said, we’re still friends, aren’t we?’

  Felt a rush of relief. Yeah, now that Emily wouldn’t be hanging around him any more maybe he’d have time for me.

  But I said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Chris. What happened?’

  ‘Nothing really. Just, I don’t know, it was time to move on, I suppose. So, you want to come? They’ve got a sale on.’

  Hmm. Time to move on. Chris seemed to be doing a lot of ‘moving on’ these days. And I bet as soon as he’s got a new girlfriend it will be time for him to ‘move on’ again so he won’t want to be bothered with me. There was no way I was going to let him humiliate me a second time.

  ‘Sorry, Chris, but I’m really too busy for town today. Maybe another time.’

  And maybe not. I put the phone down before he could answer. Chris was right. It was time to move on.

  THURSDAY JULY 15TH

  Just one more day to our holiday. Can’t wait. It’s going to be so great going with Liz instead of boring Angela. I mean, who wants to go on holiday with someone who always packs an umbrella and diarrhoea tablets, listens attentively to the safety instructions on the plane and spends the entire vacation writing postcards which – get this – she actually puts stamps on and posts. God knows what she finds to write about as she never actually does anything.

  Liz and I have talked about nothing else but our holiday for weeks now. We can hardly believe it’s finally nearly here. Only problem is, Liz constantly going on about my finding someone to snog.

  ‘Doesn’t matter that much, Liz. I mean, being a virgin lips isn’t all that shameful, is it?’

  But Liz was determined. ‘Of course it is. It’s like, well … like still riding a tricycle when everyone else is on a bike.’

  ‘That was you, Liz.’

  ‘Or, um, still wearing mittens tied together with wool and threaded through your coat sleeves when everyone else wears proper gloves and loses them.’

  ‘That was you too.’

  ‘Or getting a spit wash from your mum in front of the whole school.’

  Oh God, that was me. When I was in primary six, Mum met me at the school gates at home time and ‘cleaned’ a dirty mark on my nose by spitting on her thumb and using it to wipe the mark away. In front of the whole school. I blushed at the memory.

  ‘So,’ Liz said, ‘it’s way past time you had your first snog.’ She laughed. ‘This holiday you’re going to kiss goodbye to your virgin lips.’

  FRIDAY JULY 16TH

  Yay, finally!

  At the airport the checkin person wasn’t able to find us four seats together. Dad said, ‘Thank God for that. Can you put them as far away as possible so we can pretend they’re not with us?’ Then he looked at Liz and me and smiled. ‘Only joking, girls.’

  Hilarious. I mean, as if we actually wanted to be associated with them.

  Parents made for the airport lounge so Liz and I wandered off to look at the duty-free shops. Saw a nice pair of sunglasses which I thought I might buy as spares since I usually lose mine. Only £2.99, so a good bargain too. However, when I took them to the cash desk the assistant told me quite snootily that they were £299 and was I sure I really wanted her to ring this up.

  Bloody hell. £299! Still, how was she to know I couldn’t afford them?

  ‘Oh, um, no, actually, they’re um’ – I squinted at the label – ‘Emporio Armani and I’d wanted, er’ – I paused, desperately trying to think of some other expensive brand they hopefully didn’t stock – ‘Gucci actually.’

  ‘I’m sorry, miss, but we don’t have any in stock at the moment.’

  ‘Oh, what a pity,’ I said, in what I hoped was a convincingly disappointed tone.

  ‘Aye, right,’ the woman laughed.

  Bloody nerve. It’s not as though she could have afforded them either. She was just a shop assistant person like Mum.

  Unfortunately once we got on the plane I discovered we were seated right across from my parents. Liz bagged the aisle seat so I had to sit in the middle between her and a woman so fat her flesh flowed under and over the arm rest into my seat. Just as well I’m skinny.

  Liz and I tried our hardest to act as if we weren’t really with my parents, especially as they were intent on drinking their way to Spain, laughing and giggling like geriatric school kids while singing (if you can call it that) ‘Summer Holiday’.

  At least they stopped their embarrassing tuneless braying when the dinner came. This sounded really nice and kind of classy: ‘Boeuf bourguignon with pommes sautées and petit pois’. It was disgusting though, with a kind of yellowish circle of mashed something, which I think was supposed to be potato, some green gunk (peas?) and brown stuff which looked like dog turd. Also I was uncomfortably squashed, and even though I’m small I still had to eat the meal with my elbows tucked in and my hands in front of my chin so I probably looked like a praying mantis.

  Can’t wait for this flight to end and our holiday to really begin.

  SATURDAY JULY 17TH

  Liz and I woke around eleven o’clock with the sunshine streaming in our window. We decided to go to the pool right away and put on our bikinis. I examined my reflection in the mirror but unfortunately my breasts hadn’t grown in the week or in the heat of Spain. Having said that, the room was air conditioned. Maybe when I went outside … Everything expands in the heat after all.

  However, Liz dashed this hope for me too. ‘Breasts aren’t made of mercury, Kelly Ann, so I don’t think going outside will make much difference. Here’ – she pulled some pink toilet paper from the roll – ‘use this. It’s the same colour as your bikini. Just remember to take it out before you go into the pool.’

  I folded the paper into two wads, which I used to pack the cups of my bikini top, then eyed Liz’s doubleD breasts enviously. ‘You’re so lucky, Liz.’

  ‘Stop looking at me like that, Kelly Ann, or people really will think you’re gay. Anyway, you’re the one that’s lucky. Loads of boys fancy slim girls. And you can eat anything you want. Talking of eating’ – she took two chocolate Creme Eggs out of her bag – ‘I bought our breakfast at the airport yesterday.’

  After we’d had ‘breakfast’ I knocked on Mum and Dad’s door, but they were still in bed, probably sleeping off a hangover because of all the booze they’d drunk. Mum called grumpily through the door that we could go down to the pool by ourselves and told me to grab two sun loungers for her and Dad.

  The place was already crowded but luckily there were four loungers left so we bagged them. Well, actually, only two definitely free but the others only had towels on them, which we quickly removed then stashed under a table by the pool café.

  Liz wanted to sunbathe for a while, which I find kind of boring.

  ‘I’ve got to work on my tan first, Kelly Ann.’

  Yeah, like it really takes a lot of effort just to lie and bake, but I didn’t argue as I know Liz loves getting a tan because she thinks it makes her look slimmer. ‘If you can’t tone it, tan it’ is her motto, so I settled down to read the magazine she had loaned me while I waited for her to decide when she’d toasted enough.

  Was just reading about this season’s ‘must have’ strawberry-pin
k pumps, banana-yellow tops and tangerine skirts when Liz whispered, ‘Oh my God, Kelly Ann, look at that.’

  I followed the direction of her gaze and saw a blonde, skinny woman who must have been at least as old as my mum bathing topless. Yuck. And she was with her two sons, one of whom looked about the same age as me and Liz. Oh God, how embarrassing. Yet the woman was behaving as though nothing was wrong at all; like it was, I don’t know, totally normal to flash your breasts at everyone, even complete strangers and your own sons. Gross.

  I stared at her, horrified, as she sat eating a baguette; when some of the crumbs fell onto her boobs she just brushed them off with her hand like you would if you had your clothes on.

  I suppose she must have noticed me gawping at her as she smiled at me. I looked away hurriedly and saw Mum coming towards us, fortunately wearing a proper swimsuit, so even though she had a fag in one hand and a Bacardi and Coke in the other, I smiled at her gratefully. Yeah, some people had even more embarrassing parents than me.

  Mum settled in alongside us, leaving a space for Dad, and I went back to reading Liz’s magazine. As soon as Mum finished her drink and another two and a half fags she fell asleep with her mouth open like a basking shark as usual, then started to snore loudly. Normally I’d have been quite embarrassed but not now. As long as she kept her clothes on I didn’t care.

  Tried to concentrate on the magazine as Liz has said I really do have to learn something about girl stuff like fashion and make-up, but it was just so boring. I mean, who really cares or can be bothered to line their lips and put on three coats of mascara? And only a total masochist would wear ‘killer heels’ that you can’t actually walk in without excruciating pain and probably permanent foot deformity.

  I tossed Liz’s magazine aside and picked up my copy of PSW. Was happily reading reviews of the latest games when I was interrupted by Liz saying very loudly and clearly, ‘You know, Kelly Ann, it was so good of your parents to invite me on this holiday, especially as I have absolutely no connection to your family and am totally unrelated.’