31st December, 1999 – Goodbye Nineteen Nineties, Hello Noughties!
DEAR DIARY, we've reached the end of the year and what a year I've had. At the beginning of the year, I decided that it was time I allowed myself to have a lot more fun and not be so uptight.
I was turning into a little old lady and it just didn't suit me. My lack of money was stifling me so I decided to ask for a better paid position within the same department at work. It meant changing my working hours and that meant asking my parents to have my children on the days that I would be working late.
18th July, 1999 – The Kennedys
DEAR DIARY, a few days ago, John F. Kennedy Jr. died in a plane crash off the coast of Martha's Vineyard on the east coast of America. JFK Jr., aged 38, was the pilot and his wife Carolyn and her sister Lauren also died in the crash. These Kennedys seem to have bad luck when it comes to dying before their time.
30th April, 1999 – Is God Going To Come For His World?
DEAR DIARY, a couple of weeks ago, a nail bomb exploded in the middle of Brixton market in south west London. Brixton market is a place I'm familiar with. I shop there sometimes and I socialise in Brixton too so it's an awful shock to find that some nutter's on the loose leaving nail bombs lying around. The bomb injured about 50 people, including a toddler. What on earth is the world coming to?
12th July, 1998 – What Colour Am I Today?
DEAR DIARY, Claire at work said something odd to me today. We were having a general chat and then she told me about her impending holiday. She's going to Brazil for 10 days. Claire then said to me can you recommend a good sun tan lotion? I said Claire, I'm black! I don't use sun tan lotion. She said oh, it didn't even occur to me and we carried on talking. But you know how these things pop back into your mind when you're able to quietly think about the events of the day.
21st April, 1998 – Didn't Your Mama Tell You Never Bring a Knife to a Gun Fight!
DEAR DIARY, I saw something this evening that I doubt I will ever forget – only because it was surreal. It was shocking, fascinating and funny all at the same time! Well this is what happened; I got off the bus after an evening out with my sister and her work colleagues. We were at Paige's wine bar in Westminster. Anyway, the bus-stop where I get off is situated across the road from two takeaways; the chip shop and the Chinese takeaway. I'd already made my mind up on the bus to have a saveloy, chips and a Tango.
6th March, 1998 – Anonymous Renk Notes
DEAR DIARY, I work in a 24 hour department where people bring their meals in from home because the restaurant's closed. Unfortunately, staff steal other members of staffs' meals from the kitchen. It doesn't matter what it is, it gets lifted and no one knows if it's a lone thief or a collective but the perpetrator(s) have yet to be caught.
It's weird because you would have thought that you'd spot someone eating your home made quiche which is in your distinctive white Pyrex dish with the orange flowers and bright green leaves, but you never do.
1st November, 1997 – Cussed By a Tramp
DEAR DIARY, I'm prejudice. My prejudice is against people who live rough and people who beg. I think I've become a judgemental snob and the same blinkered views people have about ethnic minorities are the same blinkered views I've had about unfortunate people who live rough. First of all, I should know that NOBODY in their right mind would choose to live rough. It's not a lifestyle choice; it's the only option they think they have. Why would I choose to sleep outside in the open on the floor, make myself vulnerable to attack and rubbish weather if I had another option? Although I'm sure if it were me, I'd break the law and go to prison, but I've got the luxury to say that because I haven't got the dilemma of shop doorway vs. jail.
7th May, 1997 – Where Did That Come From?
DEAR DIARY, my friend Deborah said she had a heated argument with her boyfriend last week about the washing up. Deborah does all of the cooking because her boyfriend can't cook, won't cook, so as far as she's concerned, if she has to do all of the cooking, he has to do all of the washing up. But time and time again, Deborah can't get to the sink when she needs to because there's a pile of washing up that's been left. When she needs to wash the vegetables or clean and season the meat that she has to prepare for dinner she has to do the washing up first. Also a lot of the cooking utensils are dirty too so she ends up doing everything which she resents. Robert always says to her "just cool, leave it, I'll do it in a minute" but she doesn't want it done in a minute, she wanted it done yesterday.
2nd April, 1997 – Freedom!
DEAR DIARY, I've just walked out of my part-time job at Governor's Consultancy Services in Knightsbridge. I signed up with an Agency on Monday and have been given an assignment which starts on Sunday night! My parents think I'm crazy becoming a temp because getting work isn't guaranteed and my life's already fraught with difficulties but it's time I took risks again and start flying by the seat of my pants and see where it takes me.
22nd March, 1997 – Biggie Smalls
DEAR DIARY, I love hip-hop but I'm not your average fan. I don't like some of the sexually explicit lyrics but I think that rap on the whole has a story to tell and I like stories and I like the beat. Often, the lyrics are cleverly put together and I find it fascinating that music that has been given a label of antagonism can be very sharp and observant.
10th October, 1996 – What Would Keep Derek Out of Prison?
DEAR DIARY, I asked my friend Derek who's been banged up several times what would keep him out of prison.
As far at Derek's concerned, being locked up goes with the territory. He says it's simply an occupational hazard. He's been locked up for theft, burglary, fraud, deception and drug offences. He's never worked, says that if he could just get focussed, he'd love to start his own business and doesn't want his son to grow up to be like him and he would dearly love to make a change before little Taylor grows up to know that his dad spends most of his time in prison.
12th June, 1996 – Dinner at Uncles
DEAR DIARY, I have to get this off my chest. I can't stomach my uncle's wife. The family don't even call her by her given name, which so happens to be Evelynette, when making reference to her. We call her The Trog. We call their house Trogsville. We call the way she dresses Trogawear and we call her awful children Trog Spawn.
My uncle went to bury his first wife in Jamaica in 1993 and came back with The Trog. The dirt hadn't even settled on auntie's grave when The Trog made a move on him. She decided to be the black widow to the poor grieving widower.
21st February, 1996 – Who Would I Be If I Wasn't Me?
DEAR DIARY, Chris at work asked me today if I could be anyone in the world, who I would be. I told him that I wouldn't want to be anyone else but me and he didn't believe me. But it's true; I don't want to be anybody else. All the trials and tribulations that I've been through have been balanced with good experiences too. These same good experiences, I would never have if I were someone else.
15th December, 1995 – Get Me The Real Midwife
DEAR DIARY, I got a phone call at six o'clock this morning. My sister Sheba said I'm in labour. I said no; not today. It's my work Christmas party and we're going to The Grand Maisonette for a banquet and then staying at their hotel after the party, I can't miss it and it's been paid for. I said Sheba, it must be Braxton Hicks. She said I don't think so, it feels like a horse is trying to kick me off the bed. I said OK. Well keep me informed. She called again just before seven and said no this is real; we need to go to the hospital NOW. She told me that I was being picked up by her best friend Nicole who was coming any minute now and hung up.
11th May, 1995 – Things Are Looking Up
DEAR DIARY, I'm exhausted but happy – maybe happy's not the correct term. I think I'm content not happy. OK then, let's just say happy!!
I started a new job a month ago and it's going really well and I think that's one of the main reasons why my life has changed for the better. Although I must say, being me and living my life is incredibly hard work sometimes. I've matured a hell of a lot over the last three years and I've become hard working and a focused young lady.
25th January, 1995 – Babies, Houses and Hospitals
DEAR DIARY, I've just been discharged from hospital. It's all been go recently; I've just moved from a horrible flat into a house in a lovely area so it's new beginnings, but this hospital thing made me realise, it's not all going to be plain sailing. Welcome 1995!
Two weeks ago, I developed swollen glands and it got to the point where I knew it was serious enough for me to have to go to the surgery. The doctor took one look at my huge swelling and said you have to go to hospital! I said, no, sorry, I can't. I have a toddler and a baby to look after, I've just moved into a new house and I've got things to do, so I can't. The doctor looked at the toddler asleep in the pushchair and the baby in the baby carrier and then took an exaggerated look at me and said she's not really asking me but telling me. She said sort out who's having the children, go to the hospital and get the medical help that you need otherwise it will end in tears.
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