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Authors: Sandy McKay

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BOOK: Losing It
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Welcome to your new OT – Linley Clearwater will be taking a session here on Wednesday afternoon 1–3 p.m.

This week you can learn how to make novelty chocolate. All those interested please meet in the common room at 1 p.m.

Toilet graffiti:

Do you ever feel alone and hopeless — like your soul is dead and you’re a walking zombie?

Mmmnnnn … sometimes.


All I need is the air that I breathe
…’ The Hollies

(an old school band from way back).

A poem by F.C.

My Secret Weapon

My secret weapon makes

me strong.

And wipes away

my tears.

My secret weapon numbs

my pain.

And casts aside

my fears.

My secret weapon protects

me well.

And makes me feel

invincibell.
 

Another poem by F.C.

The Shape of Things

Whittle me down

As far as you can

Carve my angles tight

A work of art, a body part

Chiselled cheekbones,

Nice and thin

Wrists like twigs

Shape and trim.

Dear Jo,

 

School is driving me nuts. Only five weeks to go and the whole of Cameron College is heading into ‘formal’ paranoia. Gemma and Zoe and Ruby Wheeler are positively ga-ga about their new outfits. Well, their impending new outfits. Apparently, Zoe’s dad is taking them up to Christchurch in the weekend in his new Subaru station wagon (which Zoe just can’t stop skiting about). I’m sure there are shops down here that sell posh frocks but they seem to think the ones in Christchurch will be posher.

In English, Miss Haddock got so sick of them wittering on that she split them up, which made it worse for me because now I’m in between Zoe and Gemma. Yesterday I was smack bang in the middle of this conversation about how Gemma’s going to take all the hairs off forever with some wax strips she got at K-Mart.

Gemma – All you do is put a strip over the hair and then pull it off really fast so the hair comes out at the roots…

Zoe – Does it hurt?

Gemma – Don’t think so.

Zoe – Can you do it, you know, down below, as well? (Giggle, giggle.)

Gemma – Don’t see why not.

(Ow! Sounds painful to me!!)

Anyway, the big news for us is – drum roll, please… I’ve put both our names down for blind dates. Don’t
look at me like that, Jo. It’ll be fun. I promise. There’re some guys coming from St Paul’s and you had to have your name in by Tuesday. I know we said we’d never do blind dates but I’m not taking any chances. Sometimes a girl’s gotta face facts and the facts are that no one from Cameron College is going to ask me to the school formal. Clarke Ross was my one big hope but only because his mum is my mum’s best friend. Anyway, his mum told my mum last week that he’d asked some girl called Sophie from the chess club. I was quite relieved actually because Clarke Ross is not exactly the most exciting guy on the planet. I think Mum was a bit disappointed though. (‘Lovely boy, that Clarke. Lovely boy.’) A blind date sounds like much more fun. Anyway, it’s done now, so the next thing is to start thinking about outfits. Given that no one has offered to whisk us up to Christchurch we may have to settle for Mum’s sewing machine. She says if we get the material organised by next week she might get them made in time. So, I went to Fabric Vision yesterday after school and I’ve sussed out a couple of patterns. I also managed to con the sales lady into cutting a few samples of fabric, which I have enclosed in this letter.

What do you think? The material will cost about thirty dollars a metre and we’ll need about three and a half metres each. I was thinking maybe the purple for me and the aqua for you. The aqua would look stunning with your blonde hair.

Let me know as soon as you can because we don’t have
much time. I’ll need your measurements too. If you like the fabric then perhaps I should phone your dad and ask for some money. What do you think?

Luv,

Issy

 

P.S. This is a rough sketch of the outfits.

Dear Issy,

 

A blind date? Are you for real? We always said we’d never get blind dates. You could land up with anything. You could get some creepo with five chins and body odour. Or a psycho with two left feet! What if he’s totally disgusting? What if he picks his nose? Or puts his tongue down your throat?

Count me out.

Jo,

 

What do you mean count you out? I can’t. WE can’t. Our names are down already. Do you really want to be the only sad-arse girl in the whole of Year Eleven who doesn’t go to the formal? Can you imagine what it’d be like
hearing
it all second hand from the likes of Gemma and Zoe and Ruby Wheeler?

Issy

 

P.S. I am not taking ‘no’ for an answer. If you don’t promise to come with me then I’m not writing you another letter.

Sorry, Issy, but I’m not in the mood for getting dolled up and going to a poxy dance with a total stranger. And have you really thought this thing through properly? Like, do we ask the blind date to come past the looney bin for a pick up? Huh? That’ll be a turn on, won’t it? (Sorry, but would you mind opening the door for me, please –
straitjackets
are just so restricting these days!!)

Jo

Dear Jo,

 

Stop it! It’s not funny you’re in hospital and don’t say stuff like that. It’s not a looney bin.

Also, this is not some poxy dance! This is the Cameron College Senior Formal and I’m not going without you. Got that?! So make sure you’re out by then. There are still five weeks to go, which is exactly thirty-five sleeps!!! I figure that two steak and cheese pies per day should just about nail it. Do it for me, Jo. Please. Pretty please. Pretty please with bells on.

Luv,

Issy

 

P.S. Please find enclosed one packet of Smarties to get you started.

P.P.S. The steak and cheese pie wouldn’t fit in the envelope so I had to eat it myself!

P.P.P.S. Pull your head in, Johanna Morrison!

Dear Issy,

 

Thanks for the Smarties. I have eaten two blue ones already.

Sorry. You caught me on a bad day. I am a sarcastic cow and totally ungrateful. I don’t deserve such a
wonderful
friend and I don’t know why you put up with me. I promise to pull my head in from now on. (See? This is me, pulling my head in!) Anyway, the aqua is gorgeous and I think the purple would be awesome on you. I also thought your sleeve design was really inspired. What a good idea putting bells on the sleeves. Did you make that up
yourself
? Maybe you should think about becoming a clothes designer one day. I think the best thing would be to get yours made first and then I could try it on for size. I don’t want to ask Dad for money.

Sorry if I sound a bit shitty but I’ve had a crap day.

It started with group therapy. Veronica is always trying so, so hard but it feels like we’re going over the same old ground and not getting anywhere. You know, like in that movie
Groundhog Day,
where the guy gets stuck living the same day over and over and over.

Anyway, Tegan is really getting on my nerves and if I hear one more sob story about a dead horse, I’ll scream. But you have to sit and listen and even if you’ve heard the story a million times you’re not allowed to interrupt because it’s against the rules. Even when Tegan’s story is totally pathetic like it was today.

Aaaarrrgggghhhh!!! That’s me screaming out the window in frustration!!

Kara is no better. Today she spent the entire session counting the tassels on a cushion. I can see her counting because her mouth is going like – one, two, three, four… and it drives me nuts. Then there’s Ingrid – who is so pretty and talented and cute. What a waste! If she went to Cameron College she would be part of the in-crowd for sure, and she would have been asked to the formal a hundred times over. Instead she’s in here. Well, anyway, it really got to me today, Issy – I felt so sad about everyone.

Even Caroline, who’s not sad like Ingrid but has a hardness about her. She’s all bitter and twisted up inside. I mean, she must be in her twenties and she’s going nowhere. Well, I guess none of us are. It’s like we’ve all come to the same dreary dead end.

Leon doesn’t like Caroline much. His face closes over when she talks as if he’s trying to ignore her. I’m not sure what that’s about. So, it wasn’t a good session. And to make things worse Veronica is on a feelings rampage again. ‘How do you fe-e-e-e-l about that?’ she says, giving us her sucky therapist look. Futile! Hopeless! Pissed off!
Fat! How the heck does she think we feel?! And who gives a toss, because it’s feelings that got me into this mess to start with. Whoops! Wrong thing to say, because now Veronica pounces like a cat.

‘What kind of feelings, Jo?’ Don’t you hate it when people go all neurotic and mushy about their fe-e-elings? I mean, it’s not like you can die from hurt feelings. There are people in the world with not enough to eat and there are bombs going off and Aids is running rampant and Osama what’s-his-handle is ready to blow us all to smithereens. What’s the point in analysing every little feeling and going ga-ga over it?

I’m unloading again, Issy. Sorry. I’ll shut up now.

 

Luv always,

Jo

 

P.S.
What country has the largest sheep population?
(Australia)

Who was the first black man to win an Oscar?
(Sydney Poitier)

What is the most used word in written English?
(The)

What is observed the second Sunday in May?
(Mothers’ Day)

 

P.P.S. I hope you enjoy these chocolates. We made them with the new OT.

Group Therapy Homework:

 

Parts of my body I am happy with
:

  • bellybutton (I much prefer innies to outties)
  • fingernails
  • earlobes
  • big toe on right foot (the left toe has a touch of toenail fungus)

Parts I am not happy with:

(Do you have a spare couple of hours?!)

Dear Jo,

 

I’m writing on behalf of Dad. He says to ask you PLEASE, PLEASE can he come and see you. Cause he only wants to talk.

 

Love from,

Matt

 

P.S. Sushi had kittens last week. She had them in the wardrobe and they came slithering out like rats. Yuck! And they can’t see, either. Dad says their eyes won’t open for ages. There are three tabbies and one that’s black with a white nose. The other black and white one died before it got born. We don’t know what sex they are yet. Dad’s had a look but he says they’re too little.

BOOK: Losing It
8.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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