Don't Peek (The Diaries of a Teenage Girl)
Don't Peek
The Diaries of a Teenage Girl
Marita A. Hansen
CONTENTS
Copyright
Foreword
Diary 1988
Wednesday 17 August
Sunday 28 August
Saturday 3 September
Tuesday 6 September
Friday 9 September
Saturday 10 September
Monday 12 September
Friday 16 September
Sunday 18 September
Saturday 24 September
Thursday 29 September
Friday 30 September
Sunday 2 October
Monday 3 October
Thursday 6 October
Friday 7 October
Saturday 8 October
Sunday 9 October
Sunday 16 October
Wednesday 19 October
Sunday 23 October
Monday 24 October
Sunday 30 October
Monday 31 October
Tuesday 1 November
Saturday 5 November
Sunday 6 November
Monday 7 November
Tuesday 8 November
Tuesday 15 November
Sunday 20 November
Monday 28 November
Wednesday 30 November
Wednesday 7 December
Friday 9 December
Saturday 10 December
Sunday 11 December
Sunday 18 December
Wednesday 21 December
Tuesday 27 December
Thursday 29 December
Friday 30 December
Saturday 31 December
Diary 1989
Monday 2 January
Tuesday 3 January
Saturday 7 January
Thursday 12 January
Saturday 14 January
Sunday 15 January
Monday 16 January
Thursday 19 January
Sunday 22 January
Monday 23 January
Wednesday 25 January
Friday 27 January
Monday 30 January
Wednesday 1 February
Friday 3 February
Saturday 4 February
Thursday 9 February
Saturday 18 February
Sunday 19 February
Monday 20 February
Thursday 23 February
Friday 24 February
Saturday 25 February
Wednesday 1 March
Monday 20 March
Thursday 13 April
Friday 14 April
Friday 21 April
Tuesday 2 May
Wednesday 3 May
Thursday 4 May
Friday 12 May
Saturday 27 May
Sunday 16 July
Wednesday 26 July
Thursday 27 July
Friday 28 July
Wednesday 13 December
Diary 1990
Monday 1 January
Tuesday 2 January
Sunday 11 February
April
Saturday 5 May
Sunday 13 May
Saturday 9 June
Friday 22 June
Monday 25 June
Thursday 5 July
Wednesday 22 August
Thursday 23 August
Friday 7 September
Tuesday 27 November
A practice letter written for a CV
Diary 1991
Thursday 21 February
Friday 19 April
Friday 10 May
Tuesday 14 May
Wednesday 15 May
Monday 27 May
Saturday 22 June
Wednesday 30 October
Monday 4 November
Diary 1992
Thursday 2 April
Friday 30 October
Diary 1993
Thursday 28 January
Letters to Darius
Dear Penelope
1994
Epilogue
Copyright
Don’t Peek
(The Diaries of a Teenage Girl)
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2013 © Marita A. Hansen
Edited by John Hudspith
Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs
Cover Photography by Abdullah üsame Deniz
and sourced from http://depositphotos.com/
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means whatsoever without the written permission of the author, nor circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. For subsidiary rights enquiries email: marita.a.hansen@hotmail.com
UK/Commonwealth English used due to the author being a New Zealander.
Other variations in spelling are also due to this.
Certain names and identifying details have been changed to protect the identity/privacy of the individuals concerned. The foreword further highlights this.
FOREWORD
I don’t really want to say this, but here goes: these are my teenage diaries. Why don’t I want to admit it? Because this boy-mad, angst-ridden teenager who wrote the messy scramble of words that I had to decipher was very embarrassing. After I read some of my diaries to my fifteen-year-old daughter, she called the younger version of myself ‘adorkable’ (adorable and dorky rolled into one), and she couldn’t believe how innocent and oblivious I was, especially about boys. But there’s a reason why I was like this. At the beginning of the diaries I was sixteen, never had a boyfriend, and had grown up in New Zealand during the 1970s and 80s as well as being raised in a strict culture (Yugoslav back then, Croatian now). Having come from a Catholic school, where only girls were in Form 1 and Form 2 (intermediate/middle school), I had very little knowledge of boys when I started public high school. On my first day, I had newly short hair (courtesy of my mother, which I wasn’t happy about) and a way too long skirt (also courtesy of my mother, which again I wasn’t happy about) and to make matters worse, the only friend I was starting high school with dumped me on my first day to be with her cousin’s popular friends. Add to that an intensely shy girl, and you can pretty much guess my first year of high school was lonely and very awkward. But when I came back the following year, my hair was longer, I’d learned a neat trick to hitch up my skirt so I didn’t look like a dork, and, unbeknown to me, I had acquired two big assets that boys liked. But, I was still in the mindset of that girl who didn’t have a clue as well as believing I was unattractive. Because of this, I inadvertently turned down a number of boys, which meant by the time I was sixteen I was aching for a boyfriend, screaming out in my head for one, whereas the boys were probably too scared to ask me out after my clueless blunders. So, this is where these diaries begin.
Just a couple of things before you start reading. As is the nature of diaries, I have not recorded all of the events that happened to me during this time; even some important ones have been left out. I have no idea why I didn’t write about them, just that they weren’t in there. Instead, I jotted down only what I felt like writing at the time, often using my diaries to vent or gush about whatever was on my mind. Yet, they do give a snapshot of my life and my thoughts from a viewpoint no one has ever seen. On the outside I was pretty calm, very polite, and didn’t say that much, but as you will see, my mind didn’t match the facade I put up.
Also, since everything in this book is real, I have changed names (of the people I know and the businesses I’ve worked for), even a couple of sports mentioned (not mine)
as well as other references to protect people’s identities. And in one extract, I have blanked out a name and changed how I know this person so I don’t breach their privacy.
One last thing, I have included a few extras, such as letters and notes. So enjoy - or if you’re like me, cringe at every word I wrote as an ‘adorkable’ teenager, because I certainly did, and if it wasn’t for my daughter and my editor, who assured me my teenage self was worth reading about, these diaries would have remained hidden under my bed. So, thanks to them, and to the rest of my family, including my wonderful husband.
P.S. If you’re a relative - DON’T PEEK!!!!
Diary 1988
WEDNESDAY
17
AUGUST
(Age 16)
I didn’t play badminton that much the last time I went. I had a sore leg so I couldn’t run around, which meant I mostly stayed in one place. My younger sister gave me the sore leg, because we got into a fight over earrings.
Sometimes I get upset when a guy I like doesn’t show up to badminton, but I realise it isn’t because of me, although I still get real hyper about it. And it doesn’t help when the guys that do show aren’t too happy. Devin was pissed off about something near the end of badminton. I tried to cheer him up. I don’t think it was because he lost his games. He didn’t appear to mind that. It was funny (not funny ha-ha, the other funny), because at the beginning he was trying to cheer me up. Though, I have a strange feeling he’s pissed off due to me. I think he might have overheard me and Clara talking about Caleb. Possibly he’s jealous that I like Caleb now. Or maybe he’s upset because his bog-mouth friend Cooper was causing trouble.
I don’t know what brought things on, but Cooper started asking me how Devin was and was teasing me about him, which was stupid because it was ages ago since I let Devin know I liked him, and I thought everyone knew that I went off him to Caleb. I guess not. Or maybe Devin was upset because it was the last night of badminton.
Anyway, I also went to karate the other night, which was real good, especially since Mike was there. His friend Liam was the instructor, because every brown belt has to take a class before they become a black belt. Mike, who’s also a brown belt, was left to go round and check everyone was doing things correctly. Well, I know he knows my name and he acted quite friendly towards me. He showed me how to do a few techniques, then put a stick in front of me, which I was supposed to kick over, but I kept hitting it, which of course I wasn’t supposed to do. I felt like a drongo. He just grinned.
When we were finished, I got changed and went out to wait for Dad. Mike and his friend Brent came out.
Brent was saying: “If I did that I would be like you.” Then he glanced my way and said: “Oh no, you and her.”
Mike replied: “I’ll get you for that.”
I think Brent was teasing Mike about me, although I didn’t understand why, since I don’t think Mike likes me. Maybe I’m wrong. Or maybe it could just mean he’s taking more notice of me, it seems that way sometimes.
I got a video out today. Clara, one of my best friends, came over. The video was called ‘National Anthem’, and was about gymnastics. It was one of those movies that makes you want to do the sport, but I’m not good at gymnastics, I hated it when I did it in primary school. It’s one of the few sports that I can’t do well in, even though one of my primary teachers thought I was great at it, which I totally didn’t get why. All she needed to do was watch me and she would have known how much I sucked at it. Once during gym class, she told all the other students to watch me do a cartwheel. She turned away to look at them just as I did this really pathetic cartwheel, and I mean REALLY pathetic, then turned back right after I’d finished. Next thing she’s telling the class: “That’s how you do a cartwheel.” It was hilarious.
Anyway, forget about gymnastics, what I want is for Mum to let me continue doing karate, because I’ve got a feeling it’s something I’m going to be good at. Usually at the beginning I’m disappointed when Mike doesn’t show up, but as I get more into the lesson I’m soon very happy. It’s so exhilarating. I love sport.
SUNDAY
28
AUGUST
I’m now in hospital after dislocating my little toe on my right foot at karate. It’s hard to write, because my hand has got this thing in it that the drip goes through. Before I start writing about what happened today, I’ll tell you about Thursday and so on.
On Thursday I went to work with Mum at the cafe. It was alright. Then at night I had karate. Mike wasn’t there. I’ve got a feeling I’m going to be writing about him a lot. It’s because I have a big crush on him, but it’s different from the other crushes I’ve had. All I ever want to do is impress him or be near him. I can’t help it. He’s so nice. Let’s face it, he’s gorgeous! It’s so confusing with boys. You never know whether they’re interested in you or not, and when you let your feelings show, you’ve gone and put your foot in it again. Sometimes I wonder whether they’re mocking or admiring me. I just wish for once it would be the second view.
All I want to do now is to improve myself, especially when it’s the holidays. I want to return to school changed, so that boys (Mike in particular) will like me. I could grow my hair long. That would make me look different. I feel like my features are changing. I feel more confident in my looks. I don’t exactly know why, but I do. It could be that I’m growing more mature and into a young woman. I reckon I could look really pretty. I sometimes feel I could be a model. I just need to be done up that’s all. Yeah, because I have a nice skin colour, like I’m tanned all year, and I’ve got big eyes that could be used to my advantage, and I’ve got a nice oval face. And the colour of my eyes could be brought out nicely, especially with dark eyeliner and mascara. And my lips are just right, while my hair is real feathery, especially when it’s washed. I could be real Spanish looking if I put dark makeup on and curl my hair. I reckon I could be a model, and I’m going to prove it. And I’m going to try my best to get Mike!
But, back to Thursday’s karate. It went good. Boy, do I love that sport. We did some more fighting and a lot of exercises. That young black belt is real cute, his name’s Ryan. But guess what? I’m saving all my love for Mike.
On Friday I stayed home, on Saturday Mum, Nina (my younger sister), and I went to Manukau City. It was good. Mum got the Yugoslav music tape from Aussie today. Dad got a surprise this morning when Mum put it on.
I’m getting distracted again, so AGAIN back to karate! I got up as usual on Sunday (today), made breakfast in bed for Nina’s birthday (she’s now 14), had my own breakfast, then rode off to karate. We started the session with a warm up and stretches, Jeremy took it, he’s a green belt. Then we all went to one end of the hall and started playing a game just like bull-rush. After a couple of times running up and down, dodging the middle person, who was trying to touch us out of the game, I collided with an orange belt and wacked my foot against the floor. It was then that I saw my little toe was bleeding and my bone was protruding out of the skin. I went into shock and wasn’t able to tell anyone what had happened, although I tried to. So I went to rinse my toe in the girls’ loos. Then Nick, a brown belt, and the lead black belt, came over to see what was wrong. They saw that my toe was broken and Nick went off to get changed so he could take me to the hospital. Meanwhile, I had my foot up on a desk with the black belt talking to me, while I’m looking attentively at Mike, wondering whether he had noticed me. My toe wasn’t really hurting, well, not that much, just majorly pulsating.
Nick came back and the black belt carried me to Nick’s car. Nick then took me to the hospital. He phoned Mum, and stayed with me until Mum and Dad came, then he returned to get my gear and bike, so he could take them home for me. Nick’s nice, he’s really friendly.
I got my toe put back in place, but before they could do that they had to put it to sleep with an injection which HURT LIKE CRAZY! It felt like the doctor had stabbed the needle right through my toe. I didn’t watch when he put my bone back in place, bec
ause my toe looked horrible and floppy. I hadn’t actually broken it, it was dislocated. It felt heaps better after, because it had stopped pulsating, which was more of a nuisance than a pain, unlike that needle. Another thing that is a nuisance is the thing in my left hand for the drip. It limits my writing ability, because I’m unable to lean on it.
Mum and Dad left when I was moved to my room, but Dad came back later around 6:15pm. He brought me my things, and stayed for a while. I changed into a nightie before Dad arrived, which was more comfortable. I haven’t been out of bed since this morning now.
There was this lady earlier in the same hospital room as me who is 93, but she wasn’t very well. I think she had just come back from theatre. There’s another old lady here who is 83, she isn’t well either. It’s strange how people treat the elderly like children, especially when they can’t do very much. The old lady across from me is treated like a little child. I feel sorry for her, but I suppose she’s lived a happy life. Her family were really nice; the little boy with them was so adorable. There has been a lot of kids here today, visiting their grandparents. Each one of the ladies in my room had a small child visiting them.
Now I’ve finished telling you about what happened to me, I still feel like writing. I feel like spilling out everything. Even though I’m in hospital, I feel great. All I want to do is to start right back from where I left off. I just feel so full of life. I should stop writing now, because it’s getting hot and late. Man, I just can’t hold in what I feel. So, before I write any more “Good night.”
SATURDAY
3
SEPTEMBER
I’m out of hospital now so will tell you what happened over the past week, but before I do that, I want to say one thing: I have no idea why I wrote all that stuff about me being a model, because I was an IDIOT! And a blind one who obviously doesn’t look in the mirror enough. Idiot. Man, I should cross it out, but I suppose no one’s going to read it, so I can’t be bothered. Anyway, they have to decipher the great mess called my writing. Ha-ha. Suckers.
Back to writing – messily. On Monday one of the black belts came to visit me. He’s going to be the second highest black belt soon. He exercises so much, especially in aerobics. Then Mum and my younger sister stayed for a while, and later on, about 4 pm, my older sister came (Lauren is 22). She told me she will be engaged in a couple of months when she gets the ring. The reason she isn’t engaged right now is because her boyfriend and her are saving up for a car. I’m not supposed to tell anyone until it’s official, and when it’s official, a year later they will be married. Isn’t that great? Her boyfriend is a million times better than her last one. She reckons so too. She doesn’t exactly have great taste in guys. When I was younger I used to tease her about one of them, but that was my job as a younger sister, he-he. Although I was a jerk for doing it, especially since the guy had a stutter. I can’t remember how old I was, but whenever I said his name to her I would say ‘M-M-M-Mason’, mainly because every time he phoned for my sister he would say his name this way, so I would repeat it. There was also this advertisement where the singer said that name for some type of housing product, so sometimes I would sing it too. Told you I was a jerk.