Oi! the Skins
2002-05-06 || 7:36 p.m.

I was thinking about Bank Holiday Mondays in the past and the things I have done.

Two years ago it was my graduation.

Ten years ago I went to Rochester and the very next day started something else.

Eight years ago I took Rebecca to Leeds castle and it took us ages to get out of the maze.

In the eighties when I was at school I went to Brighton with loads of my friends. We went because of Soo being a mod and Quadrophenia. It was a strange day. When we got down there, there was a fair on the front. All the others wanted to go on the waltzers but I hate them so I stood and watched. Word had got round and as the waltzers went round skins appeared until they had made a ring around the whole thing. It was dead silent. Like a late night avant garde film. Very odd. The ride went on forever. The man who owned the ride came over and told me to stand by the exit and when the ride stopped he would let my friends off and we were to run like hell.

Which we did.

We didn't get far.

Soo and a skin girl started having a fight. A man picked both of them up and held them apart.

Suddenly I heard a shout of "get the punk!" I ran but not before some skin guy had booted me up the backside.

We ran and ran. All along the front. We came to some steps leading up from the beach and ran. Halfway up another friend said to look down. We looked down and there were about 20 or more skins coming up. She took a photo! Really!

We had gone with older guys who had cars. We got into the cars and drove away.

I had to ring Soo earlier to remind her.

We were only young. 14 or 15. We were mostly girls. Jon was there but he was only 13. Some boy called Ian as well, who was also 13. The skins who chased us were mostly late teenage boys. Heroes eh?

So I did have an exciting life once upon a time.

What did I do today?

Well, played some music. Wrote in this diary. Walked the dog. Baked a cake! Yes, a Victoria sponge. Made the fruit salad for breakfast tomorrow. Made a salad for tea tonight. And I'm just about to do my washing.

I wonder what I would say to that punk now, were I to meet her?

I wonder what she'd think of me?

When I was a child I used to have this thing about imagining myself older and what I would say. I think I would be glad I have a child and animals. I think I would be glad I still look a bit freaky. I think there would be things I would wish I did have.

I'm glad I have memories. But memories are not enough.

Are they.