Sunday 9 October
New school tomorrow. I’ve decided I’m going to take this opportunity to develop the more sophisticated side of my personality. As Posh charmed the society of LA, so will I, Aisling, charm the society of Dublin. I will ask myself what would Posh do before answering any question, never smile and always look demure.
Have been practising Irish Dance in the mirror and can’see Posh in the outﬁt OR the ringlets. Ha. And it’s much too hard to try to be her without a David Beckham look-alike, so I think I’ll just be myself instead.
I do, however, have a little speech worked out for tomorrow. I was thinking ‘Yeah, I’m Aisling, that’s my name. Don’t wear it out.’ Like Danny from Grease. Or I could go all deep south, ‘Why yes, it is the Aisling Fitzsimons, the one who has won so many competitions for Irish Dancing in her home state of Massachusetts. So very pleased to meet you.’
Maybe it will be like when Colleen started at Charlestown and we all crowded round asking her about a million questions about where she was from and what her old school was like. Hello I’m Aisling I’m from Boston in Massachusetts, yeah it is kinda cool, I guess, but I’m happy to be your friend.
Mum has already found out about the Irish Dancing classes so I should not go too long without a practise. Yay, but guess what? I was showing my planned outﬁtsfor the week to my mum when she told me that I have to wear a uniform. Ex-squeeze me: a ‘whattiform?’ You should see it – it’s ker-azy. It has a funny little white shirt,a really scratchy skirt and a tie and everything. Rory came in and tied the tie round his head and was running round like someone at Wimbledon – that is, of course, if any tennis players had the body of a twelve-year-old REALLY ANNOYING BOY.
Hey guess what? I think I can make a few moderations to el uniform, which will make it like really cool. Amelia’s gonna laugh her socks off when she sees a picture of me in it.
Am lying in bed too excited to sleep. Uniform hanging on the back of the door with a few exclusive Aisling Fitzsimons-style alterations. How funny to think I won’t be the Irish girl like I was in Boston, just an ordinary schoolgirl who’s come back home to Ireland.
How annoying is this? Put on my shufﬂe to listen to a bit of Alicia Keyes to help me sleep. To ﬁnd my brother has loaded all his horrible rap music on it. I kicked him awake to ask him about it and he said, he had to in case his music didn’t make it because – get this – his music is all rare stuff whereas mine is all rubbish. The cheek. He was still dancing to Barney when I had my ﬁrst PCD single. Oh well – I’ll try to ﬁnd an instrumental on his iPod. He MUST have something restful.
No joy. Am wide awake and realize that if I fail all my exams and my life is ruined because of this incident of no sleep it will be the fault of:
• Jay Z
• Missy Elliot
In that order. You know what, Jay Z? I’ve now got ninety-nine problems and a little brother IS one.
New school tomorrow. Arrrghhh.
Late O Clock
OMG. I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes I keep thinking of going to school tomorrow. Every time I open my eyes, there’s the uniform hanging on the back of the door reminding me how I have to go to school tomorrow.I keep thinking about how I have to walk into the classroom and have everyone turn round and look at me. How will I ﬁnd my way round? What if nobody speaks to me?
What if nobody likes me? It will be OK, won’t it?
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