The Private Diaries of Kat Stratford
Author's Note: Here we have yet another '10 Things I Hate About You' ficcy…I hope that it is enjoyed…I also have a goal to get 100 reviews on this piece, so PLEASE, if you are reading this, leave me a review! Even if the review only says 'liked it, please continue' that will positively make my day! Oh, and if you notice any of the details to be a little obscure or odd, I got them from the book and the screenplay, so they actually are accurate…just for the record! :o)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or events depicted in the motion picture or book, Touchstone Pictures and David Levithan do…so please, drag the screaming lawyers away from me and read the story!
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The Private Diaries of Kat Stratford: Read this and slowly rot, mortals. Repeat anything written herein and I will hunt you down. That means YOU, Perky. This should not now or ever be fodder for your raunchy sex novellas.
March 28th, 1999 - 1st period- Trig.
Ms. Perky gave me this wretched journal to help me "work on toning down my 'heinous bitchyness'" Personally; I think you should work on your own sick fixation on the act of reproduction. It's really repugnant. But there is no way anyone is going to make me 'tone down' or any of that crap.
I hate Trig class so much. Mr. Milroy can be such an arse. He's babbling about some formula that he seems to find quite interesting, but as far as I'm concerned, the W.R. (White Rasta) sticking the doobie up his nose. Hope he gets caught. That might make this class more interesting, and it would pass the time more quickly. Joey 'eat me' Donner keeps whispering 'pussy-kat, pussy-kat' in my direction. I flipped him the bird under the desk. Now he's whispering 'shrew' under his breath. Screw him.
3rd period-English
Playing soccer in P.E. before lunch is a great way to hurt people and feel satisfied before even food can fill you. I just hate those prissy little mall rodent divas who think soccer is only for toning your legs muscles, and heaven forbid that they actually have to touch the soccer ball. Wusses driven by the mall reflex. And of course, Bianca, my intelligence level challenged sister is one of them. Oh, and I forgot to mention the worst part of it all. Verona tried one of his primitive mating rituals out on me, needless to say I was boundlessly unimpressed. Such a poser, all those stories about him being in jail, selling his own liver to the black market and eating a live duck (everything except the beak and feet, from what the Padua gossip queens and kings have been saying) are pure, unadulterated El Toro Kaka. How could he even imagine that I would go out with a slobbering pig like him. Especially a smoking slobbering pig. Honestly. He told me he would 'Pick me up on Friday and take me places I've never been before' the guy doesn't even know my name. What a jerkoff.
Sitting here in English can be such a drag, especially when these ignoramuses are completely enrapt by fools like Hemingway and the like. Show me some real tortured souls, like Charlotte Bronté or Simone de Beauvoir. Not some upper middle class abusive alcoholics that our society believes are worthy of our admiration and time. Shoot me now. No, wait, shoot Mr. 'go see Perky now' Morgan. Damn, lunch bell. Another yogurt-eating fest with Mandella. Woohoo.
5th period- History
Mandella is completely hopeless. After devouring a carton of cappuccino yogurt, she continued to moan about how the Sophomore English class she is a T.A. for never evens takes heed to her precious William. Poor waif is morbidly engrossed in a dead white guy. Well, at least Shakespeare knew his stuff. And so does Mandella. She showed me the scrapings on her wrists that she made with the spiral wire of her notebook. She is so dramatic, she didn't even puncture the skin hardly. Man, if you're going to do that, do it right. It's just that she's always attempting to go and 'be with William.' I'm starting to wonder if he will even want her with all those scars on her arms and her bony body. She's not exactly a vision of beauty, she's so frail, but I guess I get along well enough with her, why shouldn't other people? Oh, right, because she's part of the 'bitchy-duo.' How could I forget this vital detail? She just passed me a note, I'll duct tape it in here:
Kat- William would not be happy with our teacher's portrayal of his era. He will be most angry when he talks to me tonight.
Oh God, Mandella is sinking from obsessive-compulsive behaviour all the way down to wishful fantasies that she believes are reality. I think I'll have to take her to Club Skunk to get her mind off of William.
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A.N. Yes, yes, I know that chappie was short, but I am just testing the waters…this is only the tip of the iceberg! Please, please, please give me some feedback, I desperately need to know if I ought to continue this piece or not…so give me a shout!