Gee, I’m Glad It’s Raining

06-06-2014 Friday

I have been more or less crying my eyes out for the past three days. I feel somewhat better today at least okay enough to write about it. Evelyn and I broke up three days ago. She said she felt it was time to part, because things have changed. Don’t ask me which things, she wouldn’t tell me. It does not look like she is having a hard time dealing with it. She’s been quite her normal self, if you’d ask me. On Monday everything seemed quite normal to me and then on Tuesday she suddenly ended it all.
When I came to school last Tuesday Evelyn was kind of standoffish. Normally we give each other a little kiss and a hug, but this time: nothing. All she said was,’ Can we talk after school?’ in a kind of weird way. It was not her normal way of speaking, but I couldn’t really make out what was different and what it was supposed to mean. Women are such a mystery to me. I’ve been thinking about reading that book called Men Are From Mars and Women Are From Venus, maybe that could help me understand things better.
Evelyn is kind of avoiding me and she constantly hangs around with this guy called Zack. Worst thing is, the two of them are sitting at what used to be OUR table! I guess it’s now their table. I don’t need a table anyways, because I kind of lose appetite when I see her. Actually, I have lost my appetite in general. It feels like I’ve lost about as much weight in the last three days as I did last month. Breaking up is a very fast way of losing weight; I bet it’s not really a healthy way. My appetite will come back soon, I bet, and it will probably bring reinforcements, too.
Mum has been really supportive. Dad has been … Dad. First thing he said when Mum told him (I didn’t tell him, and I think you’ll understand why when you read his reaction),’ Looks like you’re going to die a virgin after all, son.’ Mum was mad at him for saying that. I couldn’t really be mad, because I was too busy feeling sad. This is where Mum made me some tea and Dad hid behind his newspaper. From the looks of things Mum wanted to throw one of the teacups at him, but decided not to when she realised she had gotten them from Grandma as a birthday present years ago. I would have thrown one if I were Mum.
Hopefully this will pass soon, because it has surely affected my writing skills. It took me a long time to write just a couple of paragraphs. Ohw, I don’t know about you, but I always like to listen to gloomy songs when I feel like this (which isn’t very often). Here’s one of my favourite songs I listen to in times like this.

See me tomorrow. Hopefully. 

Everybody Needs A Mr Bent

21-03-2014 Friday

After making tons of sketches I’ve finally made one of Mr Bent that I like. Mr Bent is not the kind of guy who likes to pose for these things and I don’t see him every day, so I had to draw him from memory. After each visit I’d made a new sketch at home. It’s not like I take my drawing utensils over to his place, he’d probably hide in the kitchen if I’d do that. If I were Mr Bent I’d probably do the same. Here’s the sketch. It’s safe to show it here to you, because he doesn’t read these things.


Mr Bent is a man of the world. He has been to places and has seen things beyond my wildest dreams; I really value what he says. Yesterday he told me that Unice could get stuffed. Unice had invited herself over for a cup of tea. She just barged in through the door, sat down on the sofa after having mentioned the big mess he was living in, and then she went on and on and on about her life. When she had finished talking about her life (more or less) she started gossiping about people in the street whom she has only seen maybe once or twice. Mr Bent didn’t know half of the names Unice mentioned and, frankly, he couldn’t be bothered with any of her stories. Who cares if their neighbours are having a fight over whether they should or shouldn’t buy a new car!? Mr Bent did tell me that Unice is spelled without an ‘e’. He said that it was a mistake Unice’s father had made when registering the name or something. Mr Bent said that that was not the only mistake her father had made, but I don’t know what he meant by that.
Actually, I didn’t go to Mr Bent because of Unice – who is moving in this weekend, God be with us – but because I needed his advice on girls again. Well, one girl in particular. The other day Mr Bent told me I should use a condom, which is great advice, but it is a bit premature for that. We haven’t even kissed yet (Evelyn and I, I mean, not Mr Bent and I …. That’d be weird, not to mention illegal.) and that is what I needed advice on: kissing. I told you I had been practising on my hand and with my toothbrush and I nearly broke of part of my tooth. Luckily it was just part of the brush. Mum wouldn’t get me a new one until one week after, because she said it was my own mistake for having chewed on it. When the toothbrush started to scratch the inside of my mouth so bad that it started bleeding, Mum finally decided I could use a new one. Mr Bent’s advice was not to use toothbrushes in the future.
‘Kissing is something you shouldn’t practise on anything else but people. In my case preferably on Evelyn. It might be a bit odd at first and maybe you shouldn’t immediately start French kissing, but just a romantic and passionate English kiss. When? You ask me. The best moment? Well, sometimes you just have to seize the moment yourself. You can wait for a romantic moment, but sometimes the kiss itself creates the moment and the romance all by itself. You’ll forget the world around you, and it just feels like flying. Go with it. Carpe Diem,’ was more or less what Mr Bent said. I think he maybe right. Though I have no idea what he meant with Carpe Diem. Still … where to find the guts to just do it (no, I’m not sponsored)?
Talking about guts. I promised Evelyn and myself to tell Mum and Dad about our relationship tomorrow. Evelyn is going to tell her parents as well. We’re both dead nervous about this. Believe it or not, but we’ve actually talked about this. I know a little more about her now as well. She wants to be a singer in a band one day, but she feels she is too shy. And she told me how much she likes poetry and reading. I think we’re going to be very happy together.

See me tomorrow.

It’s Just A Phase

07-03-2014 Friday

Things are getting a bit awkward with Mrs Williams. When she saw me today she put her hand on my shoulder and asked me if I was feeling better and all. Now, I think it is very nice of people to ask me how I am doing, but I was quite uncomfortable with that hand on my shoulder and her staring at me like that. Like what? Like that? I can’t explain it, but it didn’t look normal. First she gives me ‘the wink’ then she puts her hand on my shoulder, then that look, who knows what’s next. I don’t think I would want to find out. I don’t think I even answered her question.
On a slightly more positive note, I think Evelyn and I are making good progress. Today she slipped me a note during class. I wouldn’t have minded if Evelyn had put her hand on my shoulder. The note was really sweet. It said she had missed me at school and asked me how I was doing. She even drew a nice flower on it. I didn’t dare to send anything back, because I was too afraid Mrs Williams would intercept it and read out loud to the class. That would have been the death of me. Instead I just smiled at Evelyn and nodded a little shyly.


During lunch I told her I was okay and asked her how she was doing. She said she was fine and we sat together at the same table. In silence of course, but at least we sat together. I think I even felt her hand touching mine at one point, but it could as well have been her lunch bag or something, because I wasn’t looking. When I felt it I turned my head round and stared straight into her big dark eyes. My stomach kept spinning round like a washing machine. I might have even turned red a little and I completely forgot to chew and swallow. I must have looked like a hamster. I’m just hoping Evelyn felt the same.
It is not easy for two socially awkward teenagers to have fallen in love with each other and I wonder if this could ever even work out. What would become of our children? They would probably never learn to talk. Maybe we should just adopt. Mum keeps saying,’ It’s just a phase, Arthur. This, too, shall pass.’ She said that about my social awkwardness, she said that about me wanting to go outside more often, and she’d probably say it about having fallen in love with Evelyn. If it’s just a phase, I’d like it to last forever.  

 See me tomorrow. 

Pubic Hair/Public Hair

25-02-2014 Tuesday

What a day for a daydream. I think Evelyn is ‘in the know’. I think I know she is in the know and I know I think she is in the know. I’ve been so jittery all day about this that it took me hours before I could finally think straight and write down something about what had happened today. By chance Evelyn overheard a conversation between Franz – the German exchange student, but not really – and she … wait. Let me start at the beginning otherwise you won’t understand half of it because it’s going to come out all screwy, because I’m in such state. I think you could call it cloud 9. By the way this story might not be suitable for kids of all ages, best be warned. Here goes.
After maths Franz was copying my English work, because, you know, he (bad words) at English. We were sitting there and Franz was trying the best he could to keep a conversation going with me. I think to most outsiders it would have sounded like we were talking two different kinds of gibberish. Probably the only reason we were able to understand each other was that we both had a Babelfish stuck in our ears. If you don’t know what a Babelfish is, read the Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy. Then you’ll also know the importance of knowing where your towel is.
Franz, as I told you before, talks to anything that moves. I, on the other hand, keep my mouth shut to all that moves. Franz’s English is horrible, incomprehensible, and illegible and should be forbidden by law, whereas my English is above average for my age (I think I have my parents to thank for that). As you can see, we are an unlikely match. I don’t think we consider ourselves to be friends. We tolerate each other’s presence. Besides, we have got some sort of an understanding; he copies my homework and I copy his. That’s about it.
Franz was telling me about his first signs of pubic and facial hair (I know, I wasn’t too happy about the topic either). From what I could understand it made him feel like a real man and that his father was so proud of his son that he was going to buy him a razor (for his face, not for his … you know). If his father was really that proud, he’d have let Franz grow a beard and make him look like a real man, too.
Franz started asking me about my hair and I felt really uncomfortable. I don’t think one should talk about ones presence or absence of pubic hair in public. Otherwise they would have called it public hair. I’m not even sure whether one should talk about these matters at all. I tried changing the topic, but each time I did that Franz would rub his chin and go like,’ Do you feel zat (his way of pronouncing ‘that’)? Zat iz vat manliness feelz like.’ And we’d be back on topic again. After the fourth time he pulled that trick on me, I began rubbing my own chin and saying – as proud as I could,’ Feel that? That’s what eternal youth feels like!’
As you can see, sometimes it is not easy even to just tolerate each other, but it’s all for the greater good. One day we won’t be needing each other anymore and we’ll both go our own separate ways. We’ll part without any sentiment. Till that day cometh, I will have to make the best out of a bad situation.
What does all of this have to do with Evelyn and her knowing about the poem? Well, here it comes. Apparently (I love that word) she had overheard a little bit of the conversation between Franz and myself – sounds like déjà vu – she was waiting outside of school and I passed her she walked up with me for a little bit. Here’s more or less what was said on our short walk.

‘Listen, Arthur, I heard you talking to Franz …’
This is where I kind of turned red and stumbled,
‘Well, you see, eeuh, I can explain, you know…’
‘Don’t. I just … well, I just wanted to say that you don’t have to look like a man to be one. If you know what I mean.’
Then she gave me that shy look from under her hair and I think I turned tomato on her. We exchanged a very meaningful look and then she turned round and walked the other way. That’s when I shouted,
’ Evelyn!’
She turned round, still walking, and all I could say was,
’ Thanks.’
She threw her backpack on her back, turned round again and headed home.
I think this is love. It must be love.
I should thank Franz.
See me tomorrow.

St Arthur’s Day

11-02-2014 Tuesday

 ‘St. Arthur’s Day’ I think I’d like that.
‘What are you going to do for St. Arthur’s Day?’
‘Oh, I think I’ll do Arthur’s favourite: drink lots of Yumchaa tea, eat chocolate velvet cake, and play some Arthur games. And you?’
‘We’ve already started decorating the house with little Arthur’s and Cheddar’s and there’s a truckload of Chilli Chilli Bang Bang in the kitchen cupboards.’

Yes, I quite like the ring to that. Although I don’t suppose it is going to happen soon, nor will it ever happen, as I have no idea whatever I could do to become a St. let alone getting so famous they’d name a holiday after me. But it’s nice to daydream every now and again and think about all the things I’m never going to get or be.
I guess you’ll understand why I came up with the whole idea of St Arthur’s Day, right? Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. Shops are crammed with hearts, and chocolates, and cards, and chocolates, and more chocolates. We’re being lured into the shops to spend a fortune on all those meaningless pre-fab gifts and for what reason?
As for me, I think Valentine’s Day is just for sending a card to the person you really fancy to let her know that he or she has a secret admirer. Unfortunately, nowadays, they’d be calling you a stalker or a creep if you did a thing like that. You hear girls in the corridors whispering to each other about it. My guess is that people used to be more romantic in the olden days. What has become of romance?This year I am going to send my first Valentine’s Day card ever. It’s yet another milestone in the history of Arthur Didymus (this is where you should hear drums beat). You have probably guessed by now that I have kind of, sort of, fallen head over heels for Evelyn. It’s not like I fall in love with every girl that talks to me or looks at me longer than 2 seconds. Far from it, I hardly ever fall in love with anyone. Evelyn is different, she is special and she kind of reminds me of myself, I guess. She hasn’t got a lot of friends either.
We talked again today and you could even call it a real conversation this time. She bumped into me in the corridor, or I bumped into her I dunno, and we both dropped all the stuff we were carrying. While we were picking up all our books, papers, pencils and what have you, we started talking about these little ‘accidents’ we both seem to have a lot. She’s kind of an accident prone, just like me.
After we had picked up all our belongings I am sure she gave me that look. You know, that look girls give you when they kind of, sort of, like you. That certain shy-ish look from underneath her hair. I tried my best to give her more or less the same look, but – as you may remember from an earlier post – my facial expressions have not developed very well. So, maybe I looked a bit like I let one go.
Evelyn’s going to get a card from me this Friday and I am not really sure whether I am going to make the card myself or whether I am going to go to the shop and buy one for her. All those cards look the same and are hardly ever original. I did see some great Valentine’s Cards on 9gag, but not only were they very unromantic, I am also not very sure whether she would appreciate it. Besides, I think it would also give her the wrong idea; as if I was joking with her. I am not, I guarantee it.
If you have any ideas for me about how to go about this, please let me know. I could sure use all the advice I can get. I’m off to help Mum cook. See me tomorrow. 

Evelyn Wow


03-02-2014 Monday


A major breakthrough for me today! I talked to Evelyn and this time it was more than just three words. Even more than five words. It was all because I started feeling really, really sorry for her after having heard people started calling her Evelyn Wow. I was wondering why at first. It could have been wordplay on Evelyn Waugh, but then I figured not many of my fellow peers would know the guy. Then I thought it was just because she always amazes people with her silly answers and she makes people go,’ Wow!’ It probably won’t be long before people will start referring to her as the ‘Wow-girl’. Which is why I decided to talk to her, I guess.


I’ll admit, it wasn’t a very long conversation, but at least we exchanged some words together. It started off with the usual ‘How are you?’ and ‘K’ thing after which I fell silent for a minute or two and we just stood there looking round a bit. I was desperately looking for conversation and trying to think of what normal people say to each other that is not about the weather. That’s when I thought of the book ‘Hitchhiker’s Guide’. Although I must admit, Evelyn does not look like the girl who’s really into reading much of anything; it was worth a shot, wasn’t it? Maybe she was reading it too.


‘Have you read any good books lately?’ I asked her.


First she gave me that look. You know, the look when you find out your parents have had to have sex together. That face. Then she figured she might as well just answer the question, and said,


‘Not much of a reader. You?’


‘Not much of a reader either.’


Okay, so I lied to her, which is not a good start of any relationship, I know. I couldn’t help myself and I didn’t want to make her feel any more uncomfortable.


‘Seen any good films?’


‘Don’t like ‘em.’


All right, this was where I started to wonder what I was doing. I was running out of questions (I didn’t have any in the first place) and I really had to find a way to leave her without her noticing me feeling a bit awkward here. That’s when she said,


‘Gotta go, meet some friends. Later, dude.’


That’s when she walked away and when she turned round the corner, I let out a big sigh of relief. Man, was I scared. Those were probably the five longest minutes in my entire life. Next time I will have to come prepared. Maybe I should write down some questions or topics or anything before I start talking to people again. Aren’t there any YouTube instruction films on how to make conversation with anybody?


When I got home after school I took Cheddar for a long walk. Man, was that dog a happy dog. I felt kind of stupid and silly after that conversation. How do people do that: talk? What do they say to each other and how? All these thoughts were going through my mind and I ended up thinking about Valentine’s Day, which is just round the corner. Should I maybe get Evelyn a box or chocolates or anything? It might brighten up her day and it would make me feel a little better, too. I’ll have to think about that very carefully, because I don’t want to jump into things and I don’t want to give her the wrong idea. Maybe Mr Bent could advise me on this. Oh well, I’ll see and you’ll see me tomorrow.








What To Do With The Flu?

21-01-2014 Tuesday


Six times and counting. I have picked up the phone six times today to call Evelyn, every time I picked up the phone I realised the same thing: I don’t have her number. Even I did have her number I’d probably hang up as soon as she’d answered. Forget about it. It’s not going to happen.

Maybe the flu has gone straight to my head. It’s been three days and I still feel shitty. I am getting better though. Sunday and Monday I was too ill to even write. I slept through most of the weekend and Monday. Sleeping through Monday was probably the best thing ever, because I heard it was Blue Monday. When I looked into the mirror yesterday it looked more like a Pale Monday to me.

The flu is actually a strange thing, isn’t it? We find cures for everything, but we still haven’t found a good cure for one of the most common diseases known to mankind. All doctors can say is something like,’ Take some aspirins, take a rest, and if that doesn’t work see me again in two weeks.’ How is that for a cure!?

Mum is being very helpful. She has brought me breakfast, dinner, food and every now and again some tea and aspirins. I wonder if Yumchaa could come up with some kind of tea that lightens the burdens of flu. Maybe they could come up with something like tea to unclog the nose or to help ease the throat. For some reason I feel that tea companies could do so much more for society than just provide a cure for thirst. Or is it just the flu talking?

Cheddar has also been very friendly. It hasn’t left my side. Well, maybe it has, because Cheddar is not allowed to wet my bed or do a number two in the house. Other than going for a walk with Mum, Cheddar has been by my side and under the blankets since I went to bed on Saturday. Mind you, Cheddar normally isn’t allowed in bed, just on special occasions just like this. Mum says dogs make the bed smell funny and it is not hygienic. If the latter is the case, then why is he allowed when I am ill?

I am going to go back to sleep now. Hopefully, tomorrow I will feel even better. I am looking forward to going back to school; I am getting more bored in bed than I normally am during my lessons. See me tomorrow.

My Brains Will Fail Me (it’s a fact)

17-01-2014 Friday

Today I tried to apologize to Evelyn for all the times I laughed at her stupidity, but I couldn’t find the words so I just said,’ Hey Eve … What’s up?’ I didn’t really wait for a response; I just backed off and walked away. Where’s Grandma and her words of wisdom when you need it!?aWZLB7d_460s

I am looking forward to this weekend. Mr Bent told me he had a dowsing rod for me and he was going to show me how it works and all. He actually came to our house to tell us that. Maybe he is gaining in on me on social skills. Should I talk him into getting a Facebook page as well? … Naah, he would probably be the Facebook Recluse or something. Like, as soon as anybody would send him an invite, he’d tell them to sod off, because he just wants to be the Facebook Recluse.

Sometimes I wish Mum and Dad had made me a brother or a sister. I just don’t think they wanted the agony of either having another kid like me or having sex again. Maybe it was both. Although the fear of having another socially handicapped child might have been a far greater issue judging by the noises I sometimes hear at night. Who needs biology classes!? All I need is a narrator.

Today’s blog is not really a coherent story, maybe it’s because I am still thinking about Evelyn a bit (just a bit!) (alright, just a bit too much). Everything is just spinning around. My thoughts are going everywhere,’ I should have said this’, ‘I should have done that’, ‘Stupid me’, ‘What if…’, ‘Maybe next time…’ and so on. It’s incredible how these things work. You’ve got it all worked out in your brains, but when push comes to shove, your brains just fail you. They let you down time and time again.

Same thing goes for talks in class. No matter how much I practise these things at home. I lie in bed at night going over every single detail. First I will say this, my next point will be that, followed by these slides, etc. Then when they ask this, I will show them that and tell them this. The teacher will probably ask this, so I will give him that answer. As soon as you face those kids and the teacher in class, my brains go like,’ Who am I? Where am I? And what was I supposed to be doing here?

I guess it’s time to go to bed and go over all the things that are probably not going to happen the way I am going to think about them tonight. See me tomorrow.

The World Isn’t Round

16-01-2014 Thursday


I think I am developing some kind of feelings for Evelyn. It might be love it might be sympathy. It is hard to distinguish between these two when you’ve never really had or understood either of the feelings. It’s kind of mixed up. By the way, Evelyn is that girl that makes these awkward remarks. She comes across as gullible, stupid (although unintelligent sounds nicer), ignorant and a little bit out of this worl. Sometimes she kind of makes me think of the less intelligent me.

Today I started doubting all these qualities in her. I think it’s just an act to fool everybody. She’s actually this highly intelligent spy from another planet that has problems blending into this society. Maybe it’s some sort of malfunctioning software installed in her brain. I don’t know; I just can’t believe someone would do the things she does and the way she does them or say the things she says or the way she says them (am I making myself clear at all?). She’s really something else, and I’m not sure whether it is positive or negative.

What made me say these things about her? Well, let me give you a nice example. And let me tell you beforehand, the only reason I believe this story to be true is because I was there to witness it myself. As a matter of fact, I am nearly always there when she says or does things like this (maybe it’s me). You might have some difficulties believing this; I know I would have difficulties myself if I were you. The ghost stories I have told so far sound ever so much more convincing than the stupidity and ignorance of this girl.

Let’s take last year. I know she was only twelve years old then (nearly thirteen, I believe), but most of you had probably given up the idea of the world being flat somewhere in primary school, right? Well, during one of the first geography lessons our teacher – Mrs Hoover – was dealing with the capitals and big cities of the world and showed us a world map. Nothing the matter so far.

Mrs Hoover walks up to one of the cupboards, opens it and takes out a lovely and shiny globe. This is when the shit hit the fan. Evelyn’s eyes widened, staring at this globe everywhere Mrs Hoover took it. It was as if Evelyn had completely shut down all systems in her body just to blankly stare at that big blue round thing in Mrs Hoover’s hands.

Mrs Hoover was talking on end about different countries, their capitals and biggest cities, the size of the world and all that, and all of a sudden Evelyn just jumped up; system overload! ‘WHAT IS THAT!?’ she shouted while pointing at the globe. I don’t know if you have ever seen those hunting dogs that see their prey and then suddenly freeze while pointing at the hiding place with their nose … that was Evelyn at that very moment.

Mrs Hoover – much like everybody else in the entire classroom – was flabbergasted. Was this girl serious? You could just see Mrs Hoover’s brains were having difficulties coping with the question. ‘If she was, how bad is it? What can we do to save this lady? Where is she from? What are her beliefs?’ And so on, and so on, etc. etc.

Evelyn’s eyes switched from staring at the globe to staring at Mrs Hoover. Then Mrs Hoover said,’ You mean this globe I have in my hand? Why this is a globe; a small representation of the world. Have you never seen one of these things before?’

Then Evelyn said,’ Yes, but why is it round?’

Evelyn, believe you me, had up till then always believed the world was flat. Well, round to a certain extend in that it was as round as a pancake. Her former school only had those big maps hanging from the ceiling. For some strange reason it has never gotten through to her that the world was round. Maybe she had been sleeping through all the geography and history classes. I have no idea. What I do know is that it was not the best of starts one could have at a new school.

Now, as you might understand, it is an ever-continuing story of Evelyn’s stupidity against the world. But, as I said, I think my feelings for her are changing, yet, I have no idea into what, I’m not an expert in these kinds of things. And … it’s way past bedtime. I talk too much for a socially awkward guy. See me tomorrow. Image