Thursday, 31 May 2012

Sex & The City

As predicted, I am now in a elated mood, having taken the night off and stayed up until the wee hours of the morning watching both F.R.I.E.N.D.S. and Sex & The City and I now feel happy and lalalalalalala again :)
Fuck Knight (not literally ofc since that would ruin my whole anger-vibe) I'll just be Carrie Bradshaw and wait for Mr Big.
Oh, I do love Sex and The City - I genuinely want to be Carrie: she's this amazingly independent writer who is gorgeous and can afford loads of designer clothes and has a beautiful brownstone appartment in New York.
Sigh. One day, one day...
It's all good:)
Sorry to disappoint you but I'm afraid that I've mentally ripped up the Nunnery Agreement and starting this summer fishing shall commence. If it doesn't and I'm still a teenage spinster then I honestly do not mind in the slightest. After all, Bridget Jones is a spinster for the majority of the film and she's awesome - see? There's hope :')
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

Wednesday, 30 May 2012

Beaver re-union: brilliant

Cannot believe how long it took for my computer to load. Has not improved my mood. Other than realising that this summer will not be as amazing as I had anticipated because my Knight is going to be in Reading with his ex and shall probably not attempt to contact me because he's a Knob, I have also had the bombshell dropped on me that I'm going to the street party. I reeaaallllly want to go - I actually cannot wait; finally it shall no longer be cold in suburbia and we may even come face-to-face with the bangable neighbour. So, why is it a bombshell? Of course I had forgotten that Beaver lives down my road and of course he will bring his girlfriend (the blonde curvy one that we envy and therefore despise) so it will be beyond awkward. God, to think that I used to fancy that boy (*cringes*). Sigh.
Note to self: NEVER become romantically involved with anyone that lives down your street.

Oh and I resemble a drowned rat right now - it's just pissed down with rain for no apparent reason other than to make my already not-so-great-day (I had a Physics GCSE. Enough said.) even worse.

Rant over - I promise! Shall be mellow as a marshmallow next time :)
Grammar Gal

Tuesday, 29 May 2012

The Nunnery Agreement is working better than expected. But this isn't just because I've renounced all men and deemed them scum; it's not completely by choice that I'm a teenage spinster.
Today I was at the station and I came to the depressing realisation that summer is the season of love. I saw all types of couples: old couples, teenage/awkward couples, cute couples, passionate couples and, of course, Pretty Couples. It was a depressing sight. Even more depressing is the fact that I am only capable of attracting flies. And that is most certainly not by choice since I have a mini-heart-attack whenever I see one zooming towards me.

Sigh. So maybe I'm not a nun by choice - it's just how things are going to be! Until...three/four weeks' time where, if Knight still hasn't called (he literally has no excuse now his exams are over the Bastard) I will go Fishing (metaphorically of course - I would rather eat my bra than go near a sack full of maggots..)

Keep you posted.
Grammar Gal

Saturday, 26 May 2012

The Nunnery Agreement

I am renouncing all boys. I'm just so fed up of sounding like a 50s Housewife waiting for her husband. Boys in general are just starting to irritate me; the way they walk around with their hands in their pants and think they have "swag" makes me want to throw up.
As you can tell, Knight hasn't called.
Hence, from now on we shall follow The Nunnery Agreement which states the following:

1. No flirtatious behaviour with members of the opposite sex. This shall be easy because
A. I have never flirted in my life.
B. I have no objects to pratice flirtatiousness with - Afro is out of my league and the bangable neighbour neighbour.

2. No listening to Magic FM or fantasizing about certain Knobs (no euphemism intended) going to your house/sweeping you off your feet
A. Heart FM is an absolute MUST
B. Power-walking like an independent chick is the perfect way to assert that you do not need a guy in your life. But don't walk too fast or people will think you're just angry. Which you're not.

3. Do not reply to messages from Knobs.
A. This may be revoked if the text is something more substantial that "Sorry I cannot make it on [the date we arranged to meet]"

4. If a guy tries to flirt with you bitchslap him. Unless he's
A. Your friend. But then again...why would he be flirting with you..? Hmmm, I revoke this exception - bitchslap any men that attempt to flirt with you.

5. All of the above can be discarded if:
A. Your Knight redeems himself.
B. You have a summer romance (even nuns deserve those!)

Keep you posted when I fail, call Knight 20 times and put Magic FM on full blast (it's the best radio station don't lie to yourself),
Grammar Gal xx

Friday, 25 May 2012

Eventful day...

Today has been rather eventful because I
A. Cooked chips for the very first time and managed not to burn my hand (but it was an utterly terrifying experience).
B. Had another traumatic experience when a big ugly fat fly flew at my desk at Top Gear Speeds and killed itself (idiot) - it was pretty scary and also quite sad. Even though it was just a fly.
C. I may have unintentionally flashed my postman since I've been wearing this stupid tanktop all day and it's only been in its rightful spot around my neck for around 25% of the day. Oh dear..
D. A fly went down my top. Enough said.

All in all an eventful day. Have I done much work? No.
Best get cracking,

The Undomestic Goddess

If it's true that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach and his love of food then I am officially going to die a spinster.
Today I took on The Ultimate Challenge - making Fish 'n' Chips.Alone, In the house. Unsupervised.
Needless to say it looks like shit. BUT it doesn't make me want to throw up! Yay - progress!?

I'm afraid this must be brief because I am simultaneously trying to eat my wretched meal, study and not kill my Posh Totty neighbours who are talking SO LOUDLY that I'm debating whether or not to hammer their wall down..

Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

Thursday, 24 May 2012

Pride & Prejudice has evoked some thoughts..

I'm not a normal teenager.
After completing my English Lit GCSE today (including a study of Romeo and Juliet and Pride and Prejudice amongst other forms of torture) any normal teenager would move on with their lives, mellow out to some music and maybe watch a chick flick. What do I do? I watch Pride and Prejudice.
It's an amazing film which always makes me tear up at the end (you know the bit where she's telling her Dad - it's just so emotional).

I wish that my life was like Pride & Prejudice (other than the fact that women were second-class citizens and life was generally shit for anyone if you weren't a rich guy) because I love Elizabeth (or, maybe,  I just love Keira Knightley..) and her independence. But the film has provoked some depressing thoughts and reminded me of the Biggest Anti-Climax Of The Century which was when Knight and I FINALLY told each other that we lurve each other and stuff. And then...
The end.

Where was my meadow scene?! (if you don't understand the reference then go and watch that film before I bitchslap you)
Eurgh. I miss being gleeful in love like dear old Jane, and instead just feel shunned like poor Mary or Charlotte..
My Mr Darcy needs to get his priorities sorted out.
His exams end tomorrow so hopefully he'll initiate conversation then..? But I will NOT reply to the standard "Hey" and not receive a reply (AGAIN).

Huff... Elizabeth never had to put up with this shit.

It's getting hot in here...

Lalalala the sun has got his hat on hip hip hip hooray! If you're unaware of the nursery rhyme reference then you may think I'm high right now...
I love the sunshine. It makes me feel so gleeful. No, beyond gleeful. It makes me want to go and hug random strangers and converse with them about life.
Unfortunately, the sunshine was far too hot today (it was like the Sahara Desert) so, I'm afraid, I developed a bit o' Sweaty Betty Syndrome [SBS of course] which would have been bad enough had I not also seen Giraffe at the bus stop and felt obliged to talk to him.
When I reached the bus-stop I did the standard fingers-through-the-hair-trying-to-look-presentable, but of course, due to the SBS my hair was sticking unattractively to my gleaming red face (as were my clothes since I had brisk-walked to the bus stop being under the foolish impression that this counted as exercise). And so, I'm sorry to disappoint, I didn't have the courage to talk to Giraffe because I was, in a nutshell, a Sweaty Betty State.
Not that I minded - this is the same Giraffe who thought I was too "mainstream" for his wannabe-indieness.
I sure do know how to pick 'em!

So, after averting eye contact from that Jerk for a while, things got slightly more complicated when Duke suddenly turned up and the pressure to talk to him was TOO MUCH because I actually like Duke (and once upon a time I really liked Duke if you remember back that long ago..!) but by a stroke of fate my bus turned up and I unintenionally sat down next to the prettiest girl in the world (and she was French - the most beautiful language ever spoken) which made me feel like even MORE of a state.

On the plus side, the hot climate does mean that I saw a parade of men's chests which gave me some amusement. I just figure - if they're allowed to show their chest (which I could never do without being labelled a 'slag') then I'm allowed to criticise all of them in my head. And so. today, I met: Hary, Pot Belly, wannabe-six-pack, flat-chest and PHWOAR-SIX-PACK.
Call me old-fashioned but I actually prefer guys that keep their shirts on.
Joking of course.

Mmmm the Rat Pack looked fiiiiiine in the library today - they all came in singing "It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes". Man I wish they had done actions to go with it...
Then again, their beauty was slightly ruined by the fact they were TALKING in the LIBRARY when I was trying to work. But how can you get mad at them when they are such eye-candy..?!

Today I had English and I sat behind That Girl again who keeps tapping her foot. I learnt that no amount of glaring could make her stop. I wanted to cry.

On a more cheerful note I'm going to go outside and bathe in the sunshine. Juat kidding - I'm GrammarGal so I'm going to stay indoors and revise.
Why is my life full of such adventure?
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx

Wednesday, 23 May 2012

Oh the joys of revision

Today has been spent in the excruciatingly painful way of reading and analysing Romeo and Juliet.
See, this is where I have problems with exams: will I ever need this in my life?
Let's think about this: when in my life will somebody ever ask me what Friar Lawrence was trying to convey to Romeo in Act Two Scene Three..? Never.
I'll admit, there could be times where a random stranger randomly starts blabbering about Leonardo DiCaprio's dreamy persona (and that huminahuminahumina-aaa accent of his) and, perhaps, you may exchange jealous comments on Claire Danes' luck at being able to kiss him. That is the extent of Romeo and Juliet knowledge that I will ever need in later life.

What else have I done today...
Well, it's been rather productive because I have:
1. Made a pyramid of Diet Coke cans on my desk (I have no idea why people think I'm an addict..)
2. Done my daily exercises (including running to and from the fridge of course at Phoebe-Running speeds - if you're unaware of this F.R.I.E.N.D.S. quote then you really need to go and sort out your life)
3. Had a Dress Like A 'Slut' Day (it counts as an activity).
4. Changed Knight's name on my phone back to Knob

Well, I have to go and do some Pride and Prejudice rev now,
It is a truth universally acknowledged that I will cock-up this exam,


Tuesday, 22 May 2012

What a difference a day makes

The sun's in my heart and I'm ready for love.. Yes, it's one of THOSE days; the sun is a brilliant blue, the Sun has got his hat on and I have got my Zen back :D
Don't ask me how - but I am no longer in that whole 'eurgh what is life' state. Perhaps because of yesterday where Knight didn't reply to my text and I just though 'Fuck 'im' and so I'm no longer dwelling on that (:
Then there's the fact that I didn't cry after today's GCSE exam (woo! progress!) so that's great :)
Oh, yes, and I was singing full-blast on my way home (I was in a very good mood) to a bit o' American Pie by Don Mclean and then I got to my door and didn't notice this guy approaching me to put an ad through my letterbox. I was still singing as loud as a foghorn and it was rather awkward when I realised that another human being with ears was standing in front of me. I had a little mini-heart attack and couldn't remember how to speak, so I just carried on singing and he gave me the ad in my hands and walked off. BUT here's the GOOD BIT: he went off humming American Pie. See?! There are other chirpy and weird people out there too!
Made my day :')

Right-o well, here's the deal, I have an exam on Pride and Prejudice in two days so I gotta fly.
Stay Zen chums,
Grammar Gal xxx

Monday, 21 May 2012

KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON (or eat excessively and panic)

Stupid bloody beetle. I unintentionally just killed a beetle whilst trying to get him off the windowsill and onto a sheet of paper. And then I started crying.
I'm ridiculously stressed right now - I wouldn't be surprised if I need plastic surgery by the end of these exams to get rid of the wrinkles of worry frequently found on my forehead.
It's been a shit day where curling up in my PJs and listening to Prince on full blast sounds like the best remedy, but instead I have to do a shitload of work.
I promise I'll get some point...

Sunday, 20 May 2012

To sum it up: GCSEs + stress + no Knight = pity party

Ay, me! 
I am rather exhausted and have not had a good nights sleep in SO LONG so I will unfortunately have to bid you adieu at some point shortly, but I thought I'd just give a brief update into life as Grammar Gal.
Well, at present I am taking my GCSEs (hence I haven't blogged very often!) so my days consist of cramming as much information as possible into my head, and then hopefully writing it down correctly in the exams.
Sometimes I text RF and that's nice - because he's sweet and just a general Gent and I feel like we're friends. 
Unlike Knight. Knight makes no effort to contact me, he texts me every once and a while but other than that... I know I know I said I wouldn't dwell on Knight since I cocked-up my impression of him last time, but...why don't I explain the predicament:

Let's take a boy and call him Burt. Now let's take a girl and call her Gwenda. Now, Burt and Gwenda are all great friends ladida --> fastforward 2 years ---> they now admit that they fancy the pants off each other. However, Burt never contacts Gwenda and Gwenda tells herself that Burt is busy. BUT IT'S LIES because Gwenda's Facebook puts on her News Feed that Burt's ex and Burt are still talking...yet Burt hasn't contacted Gwenda in weeks.

See the dilemma?!

You know what this is - a pity party. I'm sitting here amongst my pile of diet coke cans and red bulls which I am tempted to make into a pyramid (although that would require maybe not..) and wallowing in self-pity. 
Let's blame it on the stress. 

Keep you posted when I'm not typing this half asleep and when things are a lot more hunky-dory :D
Grammar Gal xxx

Friday, 18 May 2012

World War Bee

They say that [insert animal name] are more scared of you than you are of them. What a load of crap.
I've just spent the majority of half an hour playing a little game of Hide And Seek where I would hide and a mahoosive wasp/bee/deadly thing would seek me.
I am shit scared.
I've safely locked the little bugger in the kitchen but what if he:
A. Escapes through the crack in the door.
B. Find another bee, has crazy bee sex and thereby multiplies and creates an army of bees
C. Hides, makes me think he's dead and then appears tomorrow morning whilst I'm pouring my Weetos (cereal)

You can see the dilemma.

This bee on't know what him 'im if he scares the bejeesus out of me again. It's on like Donkey Kong...

Tuesday, 15 May 2012

Let's rant and rave

Having endured 2 GCSE exams so far I feel that there is an important issue out there that I must address.

Picture this: you're in the exam hall. It's silent. The clock is ticking away as you scribble for dear life and pray the dreaded words "And may you all put down your pens" won't be said. You're looking at your paper and are aware of everyone else around you and wonder where they're up to in this motherfucker of an exam. Then you see it: a sea of feet tapping away. Are they tapping in unison? Of course not; one foot is tapping to the beat of Run The World (Beyonce) and someone else's is rocking their foot back and forward and snail pace.
THE FRUSTRATION; welcome to my exam life.
It's like an OCD; as soon as the exam starts I look around at everyone else automatically and see if their feet are stationery. If their feet are not stationery and, instead, they are conducting a little feet-orchestra with them, then I come to the realisation that I will forever loathe this person. It doesn't matter that they  may be the nicest or sweetest person I will ever meet. I just know that this will be the permanent rift between us forever and ever. And at the end of the torture, what do you do? You tell them (if you're brave enough) and they promise never to do it again.
Next exam: guess whose foot is tapping? Bitch.

Moving onto my next problem (as you can see this is a rant): I was bending down to pick something out of my locker and I came up and this girl opened her locker and I felt the metal door engrave itself into my face. I now have a cut on my head the size of Mount Everest, proceeded to have a motherfucker of a headache and you know what she said? No, why don't you guess. Did she say: Oh my God I'm So Sorry Are You OK? No. Did she say: I'm Such An Idiot Are You Alright *accompanied by sympathetic hug* ? No.
Instead she said one single word: Sorry. Then she walked away. Superbitch.


Then the exam itself was TORTUROUS: ran out of time and I came out close to tears to hear e-v-e-r-y-b-o-d-y- say it "wasn't that bad". Fuck that.

On the plus side, I've been invited to crash a party and some random person's house which (if I'm allowed to go) will be great. Although, let's face it, we'll probs be kicked out before you can say "Nice place you got here..."

Keep you posted and try not to rant again,
Grammar Gal

Friday, 11 May 2012

Oh I am a plonker

When I'm wrong I'll admit it. I'm wrong.
I really cocked up my judgement of Knight - turns out I had 2 missed texts on my phone when I finally found my phone charger. So maybe he is into me. Stupid stupid Grammar Gal and beautiful and wonderful Knight.

I'm afraid I have to go but I promise to not dwell on Knight in future posts anymore!
Well, I'll try..
I've just been consulting my Bible (a.k.a. He's Just Not That Into You) and I am utterly convinced that Knight has forgotten about me.
See, if you like someone then you chase them. It's simple as that. You text them, Facebook them, call them and perhaps even send them a letter. This is what Knight used to be like. Nowadays he never talks to me. As in I haven't spoken to him in weeks and even then he "has to go" within minutes. I feel like I'm the one doing all the chasing and it shouldn't be like that!

It was my last day at school and I WEPT - I will miss everybody so much that it's unreal and the fact we're not in the same class anymore makes me want to start crying all over again.
As you can see I'm an emotional wreck

Thursday, 10 May 2012

Girl Intuition...

Some people are amazing at maths - as in, they are supernaturally good and can do sums with 3 digits in their minds within seconds. Some people can run long distances without sweating or looking like a general plonker. Some people can flirt with members of the opposite sex without making fools out of themselves.
But, alas, I have none of these superpowers - I have the Ultimately Awful Superpower - the Paranoia That Often Turns Out To Be Justified power. Remember when Knight and I weren't talking a few months back and I thought he might not like me anymore? Well, shortly afterwards, BAM! He had a girlfriend. Now that sixth sense is calling me again, because we aren't talking and yet his ex-girlfriend is writing on his wall according to my Home Newsfeed.
Basically, RF thinks I should genuinely MTFO but I can't bring myself to give up on Knight when I finally admitted I fancy the pants off of him, and the feeling is mutual. But he needs to give me SOMETHING to fight for - it doesn't feel like he cares. I feel like Neville Longbottom - forgotten in the corner whilst he goes off and has a whale of a time doing whatever it is that he's doing.

Oh why oh why is my superpower a bitch?

Rom-coms vs.Reality

...And then Mr Darcy comes back from his trip to New York and snogs Bridget Jones in the middle of the street with loads of people watching.

Why can't guys do this in real life?
It's not just Bridget Jones that has raised my expectations for what to expect from a guy: it's all films. It's reached the stage's just ridiculous.
When I was out with Knight and I was shivering I was darn-right confused as to why he didn't offer me his coat like Edward does for Bella in Twilight.
Similarly, when I gave him my address for him to send me a tye-dye t-shirt to I was gobsmacked when he didn't appear outside my window with a boombox held over his head like John Cusack in Say Anything.
The fact he smokes and has a Kiwi accent also made me think he was Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You, so I was suprised when he didn't spontaneously start to sing "Can't take my eyes off you" when we were out.

The point is: real romance sucks. They don't give you their coat, they don't track you down. Hell, they sometimes don't contact you for weeks.
John Hughes has ruined my life.

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

16 going on 36...

In a stroke of what I had thought was pure genius I gave Awesome my password for Facebook so I'll no longer be tempted to go on it.
Why am I so stupid?!
I miss the blue dominating my screen and, most importantly, it's the only way I ever talk to Knight [not that he talks to me anymore]
RockerFella thinks I should move on from Knight but I can't - surely! One does not wait for 2 years to fancy someone and then ditch them..
Not even fussy - he could just drop in a text!
Oh, life. It seems I am destined to be a whiney, single thirty-something who will mope around and yell "WHY DOESN'T HE LOVE ME?!" to random strangers..

Bazz and I were talking today about the whole Boyfriend Complex; she's the same as I was- as soon as a guy likes her she doesn't like him anymore. So maybe it's not me who had the committment issues. Maybe it's a life lesson drummed into us by the Convent when they show us that male company is not necessary for life.
Speaking of male company, today I saw the Rat Pack all together. Must admit I did swoon a little bit..!

Keep you posted,

Saturday, 5 May 2012

The road to popularity is paved with good intentions

Well, GrammarGal, today you have been given a choice.
What would you do if a popular boy told you he wanted you to meet his friends?
For me, there's a guy (let's call him Z) who I used to be extremely close to - we'd text all the time in yrs 8 and 9, then he became majorly popular, dates S (the really pretty and nice one) and we "drifted". Firstly, people don't drift. Lilypads drift. People are pushed apart.
Well, anyways, we started talking yesterday and it's been really nice to catch up. And now he's told me that next time I get the bus I've been "invited" (his words not mine) to the top bit of the bus (where the cool kids obviously hang) to meet his friends who I'll apparently "like".

I like being invisible. Being invisible is awesome - if you have mascara smudged across your face and you're invisible like me, then nobody would care. You could just carry on with your life. If you're popular and you have mascara down your face then people will think you're
A. Emotionally unstable
B. Going down a downward spiral

1-0 to obscurity!

On the other hand, the popular kids spend their time out and about, getting wasted and sleeping with each other.
I spend my time organising my post-its.
1-1 it's a tie!

So the moral of this story is, if your X has run away, then there's always a Z to hang out with!
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx


Other than contemplating the sadness of one's life, a good pastime is exercise. This may come in many different forms but, for me, this tends to be:
A. Running for the bus after spending a zillion light years fixing your hair so it perfectly covers your too-small ears, then messing up your masterpiece by having to run for the bus where the sadistic driver thinks it's a good idea to stop, wait until you approach the bus and then drive off at Top Gear speed.
B. Going to the gym. WARNING: this place is synonymous with the word 'Torture' and 'Embarrassment', since the girls there run on the running machines on Level 8 (practically the hardest level) and neither sweat, nor make unattractive puffing noises and manage not to collapse. It's a most depressing sight. I'll admit, though, seeing boys doing those arm-pulley machines is a bonus.
C. Sprinting to the fridge. Don't lie - you do it, too! It's the excitement of the unknown - what mysterious and (hopefully) edible substance will you find? Must admit, my life is a thrilling rollercoaster...
D. Going for a jog - LOL JK, the nearest I get is to my driveway and then I do a 180 degree turn.

So, chums, the message of this is: you don't need a man when you can be your own Macho Man :)
I'll remember that when I'm sitting here, drowning my sorrorws in the multitudes of Rolo Yoghurts which await me in my fridge.

Keep you posted when I can no longer fit through my front door,
Grammar Gal xxx

The good guy just messes things up

No judgements, please!
I'm not sure how many of you find yourselves randomly Facebook stalking people you vaguely know (but, if you're human and have a Facebook account then I'm guessing this applies to all of you), but I've just found myself rather hooked on stalking Prince. Then one thing led to another and BAM! I'm in a daydream where he's taken me on a date. On this date he neither smokes nor talks about wild nights he's had. It's relaxing and rather silent; we're at Hayes Park (since that's equidistant from where we both live) and I'm enjoying myself.

What on earth?!

It really all comes down to the crucial questions: good boy vs. bad boy.
On the one side you have a boy who smokes and drinks and skateboards and sings. On the other side you have a boy who never drinks, has never smoked, plays football and can sing (but doesn't know it).
Now, I'm still happy with my decision to go for Knight, but Knight hasn't contacted in a while and darling Greg did say "He's Just Not That Into You" for a reason...

Friday, 4 May 2012

Pretty Couples - Round Two...

Remember that time that I thought life was dandy? I thought I had a pocket fulla sunshine, because my Knight had supposedly rescued me.
Alas, no. This Knight of mine is not available until summer, which feels like the biggest anti-climax in the history of ever. Can you imagine Elizabeth Bennet having to wait for, say, 2 months before she and Darcy got together? Exactly.
Well as well as taking that glowing feeling out of me, the lack of conversation has made me bitter. And so the war with the pretty couples keeps waging on...
Today on the bus there was a beautiful blonde girl whom I recognised from my sixth form. She's genuinely lovely and she was just sitting there being stunning. Then, suddenly, a boy swoops down and sits next to her and, before you know it, they're eating each other's faces. Great.
Oh, pretty couples, who do you do this? Why can you not find a secluded corner in the middle of a desert island in a parallel universe to have your public displays of affection. Us singletons just feel like ripping our arms off and throwing them at you when you snog your perfect-looking boyfriends in front of us.

I know this is just my being cynical, but when a guy professes his love for you and you both agree you are very much infatuated and then he doesn't call, what's a girl to think?!
Keep you posted,

Wednesday, 2 May 2012

It is a truth universally acknowledged...

...that seeing your ex is never easy.
I'm not 100% sure if this rule applies to me - but I saw Beaver today and it was very uncomfortable. I am adamant that we didn't go out, and I know he only wanted to date me because he
A. Wanted a girlfriend
B. Liked the fact we live down each other's road
C. Was having a bet with his friends.

However, things are still awkward when one runs into one's "ex". Especially if it's on a bus and they're sitting down with their new girlfriend and you stand there, trying not to stare. I managed this by turning my back to them. But then there's the dilemma of one's general posture. I didn't want to appear slocuhy so I stood up, squeezed in my bum and stood there (putting all of my concentration into not falling over when the evil bus driver made 180 degree turns).
It was only when they left the bus and walked off hand-in-hand that I realised my skirt was on back-to-front.
His girlfriend is just so intimidating. She's blond, curvy (in all the right places damn her) and was the object of Giraffe's (a.k.a. the permanently displeased bastard) affection.

Tuesday, 1 May 2012

The cure to evil bastards: Taylor Swift

I've come to the realisation that I am incapable of liking nice people. By this I mean people that text you back with loads of xxxxxs and compliment you with social plesantries.
Firstly there was Giraffe who was a moody bastard. Yet I found his arrogance somewhat attractive.
Then there's RF who has a notorious reputation according to my friend, and whom I am now quite good friends with.
Without forgetting Knight, of course, who hasn't texted/contacted me in agees. But heyho I'm staying mellow as a marshmallow.
My point is that all the "Nice Guys" like Prince (who doesn't smoke/drink/do drugs) are completely unattractive in my eyes - they lack the Bad Boy charisma us Good Girls go weak for.
And yet in all of the Taylor Swift songs that I have on REPEAT in my head (Stay Beautiful, Our Song and Sparks Fly to name a few) depict the guy as this perfect, good-looking, intelligent and completely clean guy. Is it just me or does this guy sound
A. Fictional?
B. Incredibly dull?

Don't get me wrong, though, I love Taylor Swift and my neighbours are naturally aware of this - sometimes (all the time) I think it's necessary to sing at the top of my voice...

Taylor Swift also has the capability to get me through tough days like today. Today we had indoor rounders in P.E. where you have to run across all these posts and get there before the ball does. The highest score you could get was 5.
I got a couple fives, but on my first one I fell on my face. No, you dodn't misread that; I couldn't slow down at the end and my knees buckled and a skidded across the floor. The hall went silent. Then the laughter started. Must admit I would've loved to have seen the state I looked :')
Also today my skirt had a mind of its own and was going far too short for my liking, This is problematic for me because the other day a teacher at the Convent said that my skirt had runched up at the side and it was "not a pretty sight". Rude.

Shit! It's 22:52 and I haven't started Geography yet *mini-heart attack*. Oh yeah, and I have to get up at 6am tomorrow to get to school early and do a drama rehearsal. Fun.

Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx