Dosey Doh!

Why me? That's what I want to know. Why, out of all the places Jordan Lee could have taken me last Saturday (bowling, pictures, concert, pizza, skating - to name but a few), did he choose -

A VILLAGE BARN DANCE????????!!!!!

Yes, you heard me correctly. A barn dance! There wasn't a single other person there who was under about fifty - apart from Jordan's younger sister, who's eleven going on three - and you should have seen what they were wearing. It was like a scene from some ancient Western hoedown with everyone in checked shirts and old fashioned jeans that were higher than Simon Cowell's. Even the wrinkly old women were in denim - which is sooooooooooooo not the way to grow old gracefully.

And this geriatric on a squeeze box was calling out all these things like, `swing your partner to the left' and `dosey doe' and `strip the willow' (if I'd been Willow, I'd have been out the door at that point!) What a nightmare! I was never any good when we did Country Dancing at Primary School, and it was clear from the first figure of eight that I hadn't improved. Of course it all went predictably wrong when I went pivoting off like some out of control sputnik and crashed into Jordan's dad, who ricocheted into some old biddy in Gwen Steffani boots and there was a multiple pile up in the middle of the Gay Gordons! But at least they cancelled the rest of the dancing - phew! Although one or two people started giving me the evils about it - I mean, honestly, how was I to know the Gwen Steffani wannabe had brittle bones?

Even the food was things like sausage rolls and disgusting wobbly quiches - gross. But the saddest thing for me (apart from the fact that Jordan knew ALL the steps to EVERY dance) was that in the heat of the village hall, with his aversion to artificial deodorants, and all that gyrating and reeling and threading the needle - well, you can imagine that any hope I might have had of a snog at the end of the evening was a total non-starter. Getting up close and personal was NOT an option. I think Arlette might have been right about his personal hygiene issues.

Anyway, I've been avoiding him all week but.... oh no! He's coming into the library now. Help! Need to get off the computer and find a book shelf to hide behind - quick!

No brainer!

What it boils down to is a simple choice: boyfriend, or no boyfriend!

And, I'm sorry, but I come down heavily on the side of - yes, you guessed it - boyfriend!

So Jordan Lee and I are going out on Saturday! Ooooooo, and I can't wait.

I wonder where he's going to take me.....

Choices.

OMG! Would you believe it - Jordan Lee has just asked me out! He is so gorgeous. He's a bit of a hippy. He comes in from one of the villages out of town and has this really sexy hair that's all touselled and this fabulous dimple when he smiles that makes my tummy do backflips. Wow! Am I the luckiest girl ever? You see - I knew there was nothing wrong with me really.

Of course, Arlette was soooooo jealous. She was all: `Ugh! Madge - he is so gross. How can you even think about going out with him?'

`What do you mean, gross?' The cheek of it! Just 'cos she's going out with someone who's practically still in nappies - well, Year 10, anyway. `I think he's really book.'

`But he's... he's ...dirty!' she said.

I was, like: `Durr! He's into organic vegetables and stuff. All earthy people are a bit grubby.'

`Your stepmother isn't and she's earthy,' Arl replied. `And I thought you didn't like earthy people after your stint on the farm last year?'

OK - she may have a point there - but Jordan is really cool and really gorgeous and ... although now I come to think of it, he can be a bit pungent sometimes. And actually, his fashion sense is so last century. And he does talk about crop rotation and harvesting and animal husbandry and stuff. (I didn't even know animals got married, let alone called each other husband and wife!)

So now I have a huge dilemma - do I go out with him because:

a) he's a nature lover and kind and gentle

b) he's veeeeeeeery good looking - and,

c) let's face it, if you smell of manure all the time, the aroma of a little baby-sick, isn't going to worry you too much is it?

Or, do I stay a single saddo for the rest of my life?

birthday blues and back to school misery.

Can you believe it - I'm in Year 11! And what do I get for it? Work! It's all: do your homework, do your course work, I need help with the housework. And have you noticed what they all end in? Work! Work, work, work! It's sooooo boring! There's no wonder I can't get a boyfriend.

Summer was a write off. All my friends were away for my birthday so I ended up like some saddo, going for a pizza with Dad, Belinda, Indigo, Gran and Auntie Venice. I mean, what did I look like? Madge No-mates trolling along with the relatives from Loonyville. Indigo screamed all the way through it - Belinda started breast-feeding her AT THE TABLE! Oh my God! Talk about die of embarrassment. Gran decided her anchovies were suspect and ended up picking them off her pizza and lining them up on the table so that it looked like some depressing fish mortuary. And then to make things a gazillion times worse, Dad had only gone and ordered a birthday cake - with candles on - and the waiter rang a bell so that everyone in the entire place stopped and looked at me while he waltzed in singing happy birthday and expected me to blow out the candles like some dorky toddler. It's probably slipped Dad's mind, but I am fifteen - not five! IT WAS THE WORST BIRTHDAY EVER!

And now school's not much better. We've been back a week and I've decided my life just isn't worth living. Even the gorgeous boy from the mini-mart had a girlfriend. And anyway he's going off to university next week. There are no decent boys at our school at all. They're either geeks or nerds and if they don't fit into either of those categories they're probably in a bell jar in the science lab!

I am so fed up - I HATE MY LIFE!