The Private Diaries of Kat Stratford
Author's note: Well, I'm back in the saddle for chapter two…although once again I have been missing out on reviews…it's getting rather depressing… so PLEASE…if ANYBODY is reading this drivel, (the author's note, that is) please REVIEW it! An enormous thank you to Professor Weasley for the wonderful review on chapter one! Thank you SO much!
Disclaimer: I don't own 'ten things I hate about you'…you know the drill…
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March 31st, 1999
Ughh. That ignorant swine Patrick was once again tormenting me, although this time outside of school. I had just come out of Disc-Oh-Tech with the new Raincoats CD and there he was, leaning on my fenders. He made some crude comment on them being all vintage and crap. What a dense warthog. Oh, and then, to make matters even better, Joey came up and parked right in my way, trapping me. Man, is it asshole day or something? So I maimed his car.
Needless to say, pissed off would be a mild term to describe his disposition…serves the putrid oaf right. When my dad found out about the whole 'escapade' he though I was punishing him for his being unhappy about Sarah Lawrence…he doesn't know the half of it. I just want to go to an east coast school. I mean, I've been accepted, why can't he just let me go. Just because mum left and isn't coming back doesn't mean I'm going to make the same mistake that she did. If it was Bianca who wanted to go somewhere, the answer would be 'sure princess, and don't forget your tiara.' Can't dad just let me go?
Well, there's a sweet band playing at Club Skunk tomorrow, so I'm planning on taking Mandella. Like I said, her obsession—make that possession of William Shakespeare has got to diminish, before she gets lung cancer from all her smoking, breaks due to her anorexia and slits her wrists to boot. I know she wants to die to be with William, but still, will he even want her at 90 pounds, scarred and smelling like a pack of Marlboro? But then Mandella said the truest thing: 'Think of the things he would say in bed' that would be nice…the only things I've heard in bed are about how friggen great Joey Donner is…as if, his thing is like a tube of lipstick.
April 1st, 1999
OH MY GOSH! THE NIGHT AT CLUB SKUNK WAS SUPERB!!!! Mandella and I had the absolute best time, we were right up there, right below the band and we were dancing like we were in some opium induced state…it was weird, though, Patrick was there, and he knew the people working at Club Skunk and he knew about the band. Maybe he's not such an ignoramus. He told me I looked sexy, which I haven't heard in a long time. He also asked me to go to Bogey Lowenstien's party. I didn't know Bogey was the kind of person who would host a brothel like booze fest. But I also sincerely doubt that Bogey knows anything about this party. I didn't tell Patrick yes…but I also didn't say no. :o) Naturally, my sister will be badgering me to go, as she wants to spend a few meaningless hours drooling over Joey's firm, stinking ass. What a prep.
I'm going to bed now…wake me up at 8:00 and then go away.
April 3rd, 1999
I hate Patrick. HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE.
Later
Ok, let me explain why I hate Patrick. First, after I so kindly decided to go to Bogey Lowenstien's, just to give my fake sister a few hours of superficial pleasure, and who show's up at my door at 8:30? That's right, the vomitrocious beast of Padua himself. Patrick Verona. Once we get to the party, the first person I find inside who spoke to me was frigging Joey. Damn him, I told him to stay the hell away from my sister, (I may hate her sometimes, but I still have to keep the buckets of phlegm away from her…i.e.: Joey Donner) but he promptly went off in search of her. Asshole. But that's not even the bad part. I decided to get smashed, yet another bad decision, not including actually going with Patrick to the party. That was a nice, mind numbing experience until I got the bright idea to table dance…I must have been doing pretty well, guys were hollering at me for me. I don't know why some idiot decided to put a chandelier above the table I was dancing on, but my head made a nice sound when it hit it. Patrick actually put his hands on me and caught me, and took me outside, trying to keep me awake. He thought I had a concussion or something… overprotective if you ask me. Then I threw up on his shoes. The best thing I did all night…I must admit, is was pretty nice of him to stick with me after that. Then, once the effects of the mild alcohol had worn off, and we were driving home (he drove, I had a pounding headache) and we parked we talked a bit. He actually said that my sister was 'without.' I'm guessing he thinks I'm 'with' or something. Put then, as I plucked up the courage and leaned in to kiss him, he totally rejected me and turned his head. Asshole! I slammed the car door in his face.
Bianca's coming up the driveway…I can see her through my window. But that's not Joey driving her home, that's Cameron, the new guy…and did she just kiss him?!? Ugh! Slut! First Joey, now Cameron! She's almost as bad as Patrick!
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A.N. Well, I hope that you kind of enjoyed this chappie…I am starting to think that nobody is reading this and/or enjoying this…so I might have to discontinue this story, unless I see some serious review increase in the next couple of weeks…*tear*…