Sunday 23rd August
         Dad and uncle Eddie round, so naturally they had to come and see what I was up to. If Uncle Eddie (who is bald as a coot) says to me one more time, "should bald heads be buttered?" I may kill myself. He doesn't seem to realize that I no longer wear romper suits. I feel like yelling at him, "I am 14 years old, Uncle Eddie! I am bursting with womanhood, I wear a bra! Ok, its a bit on the loose side and does ride up round my neck if I run for the bus... but the womanly potential is there, you bald coot!" Talking of breasts, I'm worried that I may end up like the rest of the women in my family, with just the one bust, like a sort of shelf affair. Mum can balance things on hers when her hands are full-- at parties, and so on, she can have a sandwich and a drink and save a snack fr later by putting it on her shelf. Its very unattractive. I would like a proper amount of breastiness but not go too far with it, like Melanie Andrews, for instance. I got the most awful shock in the showers after hockey last term. Her bra looks like two shopping bags. I suspect she is a bit unbalanced hormonally. She certainly is when she tries to run for the ball. I thought she'd run right through the fence with the momentum of her "bosoomers," as Jas so amusingly calls them.

Still Sunday
         I don't see why I can't have a lock on my bedroom door. Everytime I suggest anything around this place, people start shaking their heads and tutting. Its like living in a house full of chickens dressed in frocks and trousers. Or a house full of those nodding dogs, or a house full of... anyway... I can't have a lock on my door is the short and short of it. "Why not?" i asked Mum reasonably (catching her in one of the rare minutes when she's not at Italian evening class or at another party). "Because you might have an accident and we couldn't get in," she said. "An accident like what?" I persisted. "Well... you might faint," she said. Then Dad joined in. "You might set fire to your bed and be overcome with fumes." What is the matter with people? I know why they don't want me to have a lock on my door. Its because it would be a first sign of my path to adulthood and they can't bear the idea of that because it would mean they might have to get on with their own lives and leave me alone.

Still Freaken Sunday (What a Life I live always writing in a journal *sighs*)
         Uncle Eddie has gone, thank the Lord. He actually asked me if I'd like to ride in the sidecar on his motorbike. Are all adults from Planet Xenon? what should I have said? "Yes, certainly, Uncle Eddie, I would like to go in your prewar sidecar and with a bit of luck all of my friends will see me with some mad, bald bloke and that will be the end of my life. Thank you."