Student Diaries.

Mother Courage

Jordan Pollock is your average second year  Uni student... Who has a penchant for telling ridiculous tales, and letting her crazy imagination get the best of her.

Between a Mother that won't ever lose control, a sexy neighbour who seems to have no self control,  and a sister who never comes home, what will Jordans Diary reveal? 

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Jordan Pollock.

Diary App. iPhone 5.

Friday 5:10pm

At Uni, attempting to understand first week of lectures.

Mum just called as I sat down in my last lecture to say that we are having dinner at six, she'll pick me up from the flat, and that my clothing needs to be: "Formal darling, but try not to be dowdy, you make me feel old. You really shouldn't wear such muddy tones all the time." Feel as if avalanche of rock has trapped me into a crevice like cave from which there is no escape a la Chilean miners.

Have now got to ride my scooter through bloody drizzle and post work traffic, go home, and find something fabulous in my wardrobe of stretchy dresses from cotton on and $10 boots. Don't think my mother knows who I am yet or what I do. Cannot afford taffeta gowns, am not Audrey Hepburn, am poor student.  Perhaps I can stop for a kebab on the way home? Mother does not eat at dinner, will simply judge me and slap hand if I reach for bread. Wonder if hating Mother is natural. Must research.

5:30pm:

 Still at uni.

5:45pm:

 Must never return to university, lecturer saw me check phone twice and attempt to slide laptop into case. Asked me: "What is it Miss Pollock that is so important you cannot bear to listen to me explain the non-activation our current Government body has made in terms of facilitating our nations presence in the global economic market?"

I am retarded and dull, actually ANSWERED HIM BACK.

"My Mum."

Class laughed. I fled. Am now in toilets red with shame attempting to google "changing identity" on my phone, but wifi is not working. Left textbook on floor under seat in lecture hall.  Worth $125. Will buy new one.

5:48pm:

Mother called.

Am in trouble. She will get me from university, and my scooter can stay overnight.

#whygod

9:45pm:

Mother just left. Evening has been most dramatic of my life. Am speechless, hand is shaking. Well, not really, but if I wasn't such a strong woman reminiscent of Beyonce / Princess Diana, it would be. Started thinking about Beyonce, perhaps I would suit short hair cut? Must stay on topic.

We were at dinner, Mother chose Eurostar, I ordered the Eye Filet, she changed to a skinless chicken breast with parsnip puree and rocket. First depressing moment. Should have known more to come.  "Jordan darling, I really wish you wouldn't wear trainers to university, they are so common. And look at your jeans! A hole in the knee! Honestly, people will think I work for a charity that feeds the homeless. Imagine what your Nana would say."

"Mother these are limited edition Valentino stud sneakers that NANA paid for, I got them for Christmas, she sent them from London. And actually I bought these jeans like this. They're meant to have holes." I said, eyeing the basket of hot garlic bread that sat between us like an unloved child waiting for attention.