Ibiza Holiday Edition: Teenage Diary 20th – 26th August 1994

It’s most teenager’s dream to go to Ibiza, unfortunately for me it was a family holiday and I was not impressed one little bit. This week’s teenage diary comes to you from the party island itself. Enjoy!

Saturday 20th August

I got my Art coursework finished so now it’s just my English and my French and German revision, if I can be bothered. I’ve got a really bad throat and I’m just praying it goes before we go on holiday, but I don’t like my chances. Timothy called round for me at 10.20pm tonight and I’d gone to bed because I didn’t feel too good. I hope he wasn’t drunk. Even if I was up I still wouldn’t have gone out, especially not with him on his own. I just hope he doesn’t fancy me because it’s not something I particularly want to cope with as I’ve got other more important things to deal with.

Sunday 21st August

I’ve finished my English but it’s probably the most crappest thing I’ve ever written. I’m getting excited about tomorrow now. I’m really looking forward to it, although my period is due in the second week, which will be a real pain as I won’t be able to swim because I just can’t get to grips with tampons. My sore throat has sort of led onto a cold now so I’m just hoping the hot weather of Ibiza will cure it faster than it would here in sunny Hullavington! I hope I meet some really nice boy, you never know it could be the year of my first holiday romance. I guess there is no harm hoping.

Monday 22nd August

What a long day it’s been and I’m not sure whether I feel it’s been worth it. I’ve spotted a few boys worth looking at but nothing will ever come of it as I’m never on my own for anyone to approach me. My meal on the plane was probably better than the meat eater menu so that showed them a thing or two. It’s really hot. It hits you as soon as you get off the plane. At least that lets me know I’ll probably be gong home with a tan. The hotel room isn’t that brilliant, in fact it’s pretty basic and what makes it worse is I have to share it with A.

Tuesday 23rd August

Being on holiday at a hotel can be quite depressing because for some uncanny reason I can’t seem to make any friends, whereas every other kid has managed to get themselves into a whole group. I keep thinking about Percy and it’s really getting me down knowing that I have to wait exactly two weeks before being able to see him again. Went on the beach, but it’s nothing to brag about, in fact so far on this holiday the best thing is the swimming pool so god knows what I’m going to do when my period comes. I also look forward to dinner and breakfast. Sad, eh?

Wednesday 24th August

It was so funny! We went to a show in the evening at the hotel called ‘Miss’. We were just sat there drinking our Bacardi and cokes when suddenly this transvestite came over and started chatting Dad up. He wasn’t impressed and told him to “piss off” although I don’t think he heard. He soon went though. Played volleyball this morning and it was actually quite good, my team won. There are some really lush boys here. One looks dead like Lee Sharpe, one looks like Dieter Brummer and there’s another that looks a bit like Sean Maguire, but a lot nicer. All the boys go around with their shirts off baring their bronzed, hairless chests. Shame none of them notice me.

Thursday 25th August

We went on a trip to Formentera, supposedly a paradise island, but if I’m honest it was really boring because we had to stay there for four hours. Mind you it topped up my tan, although I am starting to peel on my shoulders, but I suppose that’s better than my arms, legs or face. A won a bottle of champagne in a champagne diving competition, mind you it wasn’t up to much bottle… get it? I’ve written Sheila a postcard, but have yet to send it. I wonder what everyone back home in Hullavington are doing. I hope they’re not having parties without me.

Friday 26th August

We watched a hypnosis show and it was so weird. I’ve always believed in it, but this justified it even more. We went to the Windmill pub across the road from the hotel and I played two games of pool with A of which he won one and I won one. There was a whole group of boys inside playing pool and there was one eyeing me up something chronic. Mind you I was eyeing him up as well because he was totally lush. I don’t know how old he was, probably 17 or 18. He had dark brown hair and had a body that would make Mark Owen cry over.

Tune in next week for more insight into the life of a teenage girl (me!) growing up in the 90s.

*names have been changed to protect the not so innocent

Did you miss last week’s 1994 Teenage Diary?

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Love my 1994 Teenage Diary?

Then check out my month by month 1993 Diary!

You can read August here – https://artofhealthyliving.com/monthly-readings-from-my-teenage-diary-august-1993/

Author Bio

Becky Stafferton is a full time blogger over on her website The Art of Healthy Living, mum of 2 and certified Queen of the hashtags. She continually strives to promote a realistic, sustainable and positive image of how to lead a healthy life. When she’s not writing she can be found swigging Prosecco from the bottle, running through muddy puddles, making lists of lists, having a good old moan, scoffing flapjacks and squatting like her life depends on it.

She can be found on:

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