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seem to have very little control over my body.
    Still, so what!!!
    6:00 p.m.
    Spent the day in a love haze punctuated by rescuing bits of my underwear from Angus’s basket. He is in an awful mood. He climbed up the curtains like a Tyrolean mountaineer in a furry suit. If hewas a human he would go down to the gym and work out his frustration by hitting something. Or jogging. I know how he feels.
    9:00 p.m.
    I tried to encourage Angus to go cat jogging. He didn’t get it though. When I set off jogging he trotted along quite nicely on his lead. For about a minute. Then he got bored. He ran round and round me like a mad loon until his lead was wrapped round my ankles and all I could do was fall over into a thorn bush.
    9:30 p.m.
    Phone rang. OhmyGod. I almost ripped it off the wall.
    It was Rosie checking arrangements for tomorrow. I could hardly hear her because there was such loud music in the background. She said, “Greetings, Earth creature…SVEN!!!!! You adorable Norwegian fool, turn the music down!!”
    I heard laughing and stamping and then the music went quieter. Rosie said, “Jas said you did ear snogging yesterday.”
    Oh, thank you, Radio Jas.
    saturday october 30th
    9:30 a.m.
    Phoned Jas for gang discussion. Where we should all meet today and so on. When she answered I came over a bit French. (Because I am in Le Luurve Heaven.) “ Bonjour , Jas, it is moi, ta grande amie .”
    â€œAh, bonjour.”
    â€œAh, d’accord , I have just mang ed my breakfast; I mang ed the delicieusement toast and le coffee de Monsieur Nescafè.”
    â€œMagnifique.”
    â€œDe rigeur.”
    We are meeting at gang headquarters (Luigi’s Cafe) at one o’clock and then going for a bit of heavy makeup trying-on in Boots, etc. I have only got a measly five pounds to spend. I hope Dad manages to persuade some poor fool to give him a job soon because I am running out of lip gloss.
    11:00 a.m.
    Bloody hell. You take your life in your hands going into the kitchen for a snack. Angus is in there and he is not pleased. I had to fend him off with a frying pan to get into the fridge.
    Still, lalalalalala.
    midday
    Still in a European mood, I dressed French casual (same as sports casual—black Capri pants, black rollneck top, ankle boots—but with a lot more eyeliner). In fact, the combination of French osity and my snogging extravaganza made me come over all forgiving and relaxed. I even waved to Mr. Next Door as I went down the road. Typically, he just tutted. But hey ho, tut on. Nothing can spoil my mood. Mr. Next Door was wearing an extra ordinary pair of trousers; they seem to start under his armpits and be made out of elephant. He said, “I hope you are keeping that wild animal under lock and key. It’s about time something was done with it.”
    Nobody can take a joke around here. Alright, Mr. Across the Road does have a point in that Angus did abscond with Naomi, but what does Old Elephant Trousers have to complain about?
    What they both fail to see are Angus’s very good qualities. He has many attractive cat qualities. For instance, he has EXCELLENT balance. Only last month he herded Snowy and Whitey, Mr. Next Door’s Prat Poodles, into the manure heap and then leapt down from the wall and had a rideround on Snowy’s back. Like Snowy was a little horsey.
    How many cats can do that?
    12:30 p.m.
    While I was waiting at the bus stop for a bus to town, two blokes in cars hooted their horns at me (ooer). I really have become a boy magnet.
    Then along came Mark Big Gob who I unfortunately made the mistake of going out with in my youth. Well, ten months ago, anyway. He was messing about with his rough mates waiting for the bus. No sign of his midget girlfriend. Perhaps he had mislaid her. His mouth is sooo big; how could I have snogged him? And he had rested his hand on my basooma. Still, let bygones be bygones. My basoomas are out of his hands now. I am, after