I don’t know as to why I’ve always been a wallflower. I’m fun. I’m really fucking fun, and it’s a shame my peers don’t seem to appreciate my quick witt and sharp humour. 

Sometimes, on a Wednesday night, I even stay up late to watch the Bake Off with a cup of tea and a donut. 

True, they’re all at parties-smoking weed and making out behind the shed: but seriously, who wouldn’t prefer a night in my front room? It’s cosy. It’s safe.

I don’t mean to say that I haven’t lived at all-I’ve had a one night stand (which people are so often far too quick to judge me for when I reveal that fact). But I didn’t know it was a one night stand until the morning after, and there’s not a lot you can do about it then. She was a girl in my class, and I thought we were in a relationship. Turns out, we weren’t. 

It’s just that I’d like to have a diary packed full of events and catch ups with friends for the day-rather than one that reads “Masterchef, tonight at nine”.

But anyhow, back to the point.  If that’s a Wednesday evening, think about a Friday evening-the bubble baths, the face masks, the joy of being alone…

Honestly, it’s great. 


Every night’s a party night around here. I’m the Bridget Jones of the teenage generation, and I suppose there are worse things to be. I’d like to try-maybe just for a day or two-having a more age-reflecting life. Sometimes I wonder what I’m missing out on as I scroll through the hundreds of photos from last night’s party. I’d like people other than my mother to stalk my Facebook profile-and not just because they’re checking for signs of stranger danger.

I’ve never been a stunner, but I don’t think I’m downright ugly, either-so I’m not sure why it is that I’m as single as I am. My friend, Em, told me that it was because “they’re afraid of your strength of character and remarkable intelligence”. Personally, I think that was just her being sweet (it’s the kind of thing you have to say really, otherwise it’s just fucking rude)-but you need friends like that in life; the sort that boost your self esteem as opposed to puncturing it. But then again, I’ve never seen quite why she draws so little attention-she’s beautiful, not just in looks, but in character too. 

We’ve come to the conclusion that if we’re single at 40, we’ll marry each other-I mean, there’s no sexual attraction, but I dont see why we couldn’t be an asexual/watching countryfile together kind of partnership. She’s my safety wife, and, in all honesty, she’d probably last longer than a cat. There’d be no vet bills either, and I’d like to think she’d pay her way.

Just the other day, in Form Time, I overheard the word “party” being spoken by another girl. To most people, this sound would evoke images of music, dancing, drinking and so on.

Not me.

When I hear the word “party”, the first phrase that comes to mind is “pin the tail on the donkey”. That’s sad, isn’t it?

But hey, when they’re all on the organ transplant waiting list by the age of 23, at least my liver will be appreciative of the dull and mundane social life I lead as a teen.