Saturday, 30 June 2012

The problems with Facebook...

Don't get me wrong I love Facebook - where would I be without it? I'd be in blissful ignorance about Knight's girlfriend but I would still have a large Facebook-shaped hole in my life. Nonetheless there are some things which are flawed with Facebook which I shall outline...
1. A thought occurred to me last night at prom when I saw The Populars; I had some of the guys on Facebook and I had never spoken to them in my life. So why is it that on Facebook it says we're "friends"?! It makes no sense!
2. It has replaced human interaction. If I want to talk to my friends I don't call them, I can just Inbox them. Eurgh. Call me old-fashioned but I miss the times that people would send letters and meet up with each others. OK I'm old-fashioned.
3. It leads to obsession. With this I am referring to the tendancy we all have to Facebook Stalk people we
A. Want to be/are jealous of.
B. Fancy the pants off of.
C. Hate/loathe.
Now I for one know that my Facebook stalking has been rather obscene lately. My stalks on certain people's girlfriends have become so bizarre that I feel I know them. And don't like them.

I'm afraid I really must go now - I only got 4 hours sleep last night - what with my friends insisting we watch Women In Black at 1AM in the morning! Don't get me wrong, Daniel Radcliffe is huminahuminahumina-aaah but creepy suspense music and frequent screams do not make it easy to sleep!
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx

Thursday, 28 June 2012


Hola chums :D
Tonight was the night of the prom (the moment I have been waiting for for, oooh, a year??) and it was...a let down.
True I did enjoy doing my awkward dances that make me look like a chimpmunk in a straight jacket, but the music was not brilliant (sorry RF!) and my feet feel as though I've amputated them. I'e already apologised profusely to them in my defense.
Oh yes, and it's taken TWENTY-THREE cotton wool pads to take off all of this foundation and other crap on my face. Sigh. Oh how easy it must be being a guy - you just go home and:
1. Take off shoes.
2. Change into PJs (I assume guys wear those...?)
3. Sleep.

Whereas for me I've
1. Collapsed on the sofa and had a little heart-to-heart with my feet.
2. Taken off my make-up - a seemingly impossible task.
3. Changed into PJs.
4. Collapsed on the sofa again to recuperate from the dancing...


Well, anyways, it was swell seeing my friends - we had a surprisingly good time considering we were ready to go home at 8:30 and had to endure 2 more hours...
And RF was very sweet - he actually called me 'hot' which, I won't lie, did make me feel better - I mean, when a guy you've liked for over a year goes off with some girl then you do look for a pick me up. RF is a very good friend and I did try to stick up for him when the adjectives used to describe him were "shit", "awful", "eurgh"...amongst others.

Well anyways it's time for me to go to Bedfordshire (not literally, although I don't think that's even a place..?!!)
Keep you posted (more regularly than last time - promise!)
Grammar Gal xxx

Monday, 25 June 2012

The slippery slope

Well I am just a big fat hypocrite. Here I am informing you guys how to MTFO but I've slid down the slippery slope again and have resumed moping.
I'm feeling wretched again.
I've tried to distract myself with my work and with RF and even with planning good Fishing spots but it's all been to no avail. My exams are now over, RF is just bland...
OK, this may sound harsh, but let's listen to a genuine conversation we had today:
Him: So whatcha up to?
Me: Shopping with no money
Him: Unlucky
Me: What are you up to?
Him: Buying records.
Me: Where from?
Him: Online.

Genuinely. I mean, is this what I have to expect from the rest of the male population? Now that I cocked up my whatever with Knight, is this what I will have to put up with?
OK, so what brought on these blues? Perhaps it's the fact that Knight's new girlfriend (a.k.a. his ex) put up some pics of him. So that means they were together. There's a picture of him in a bedroom. The mind wanders.
This has to STOP. I just feel so....
There's no words. I feel like crap, and I'm starting to worry that my Fishing trips will only result in meeting more chavs/boring guys. I think Knight was one of a kind. And it went tits up.

Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

Thursday, 21 June 2012

The 5 steps to Move The Fuck On (MTFO)

Today I have deleted 250 texts from Knight that I had saved on my phone, and have only kept my favourite 90-something and I am using this as proof that I am now over Knight. In fact, over the last couple of days I've realised that there's a cycle for how to get over a guy (how to MTFO), so I thought I'd just share these findings with y'all. These steps work whether you've

A. Just realised that the guy you have a massive crush on has a girlfriend.
B. Are in my pickle: you've lost the guy you never even had to some bitch girl with big boobs
C. There are probably other cases for which this applies...

STEP ONE: Denial - naturally you will tell yourself that they are just friends and the "In a relationship" status on Facebook is an inside joke between them or that when you saw them snogging he was just giving her CPR in a standing up position. Naturally.
STEP TWO: Hurt - this may constitute reading texts that he sent you and re-assuring yourself that he did once like you/convincing yourself that you guys had a chance. Or, alternatively, you may just remember good times that you've shared together and question how he could do this to you. Listening to Magic FM may seem essential (or if you're a cool kid like moi then listening to the Magic FM album 3 times or more ought to be sufficient)
STEP THREE: Anger - this may include badmothing the boy to your friends, perhaps thinking of a bitchy nickname for his girlfriend despite the fact that this travesty isn't actually her fault, or even fantasising about bitchslapping him. For me this stage has included all of the above as well as singing the angry punk songs in the shower.
STEP FOUR: Relief - this is where you remember all of the bad things about the relationship and may watch a trillion romcoms to remind yourself that there are plenty of Heath Ledgers from 10 Things... out there and that fishing is a necessity. Deleting a multitude of texts from the boy may also be helpful.
STEP FIVE: MTFO - this is where fishing occurs, you sing happy songs (including the likes of Taylor Swift and 60s Happy Songs) in the shower and feel happier, completely moving on from The Jerk.

At present I'm at stage four, but - hell- we shall MTFO soon enough!
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

Gym Goddess in training

Why hello there chums :)
Today has been a rather ashamedly uneventful day - as opposed to doing the heap of work on my desk I have found myself otherwise preoccupied.
First I ordered a ton of stuff off of Amazon - a.k.a. I splurged what money I had left and then wrote an IOU to my Dad for the rest. But don't worry the money situation is completely under control - I'm going to cycle down to the shop tomorrow and buy a Lottery Ticket and, hell, I'm feeling lucky!
I don't blame you for reading that line thrice: I'm going to "cycle". Truth be told that does constitute a Mindfuck Moment. I never ever do voluntary exercise. Ever. Today I cleared out my wardrobe (which included pulling down clothes and putting them on a pile) and I was left breathless - HOW?!! Who knows?! Today I read that the average teenage girl "only does 17 minutes of exercise a day". Pffft as if!! Seriously, though, why would I do anything which requires my looking like a red blotchy mess with hair sticking to my face?
Nonetheless, starting tomorrow/the-next-day/next-week I shall be a Gym Goddess, an artist of athleticism. I will run down the street without collapsing in a heap and I will not get a stitch from running downstairs to eat my breakfast (which recently has been Nutella Sandwiches - Yum with a capital Y).
I really tried to get into the Exercising/Powerful mood today and so I thought I'd drink a bit o' Lucozade - afterall it has such powerful mottos all over it: "DRINK. THINK. DO" and "Out-do the doers" being just a few examples. I realised this was a bad idea when it took me 5 minutes to open the bloody bottle, by which time I had somehow managed to acquire an attractive burn on the palm of my hand.
Then I saw one of my neighbours walk past (not The Bangable One but this other beauty - who knew there were so many beauties living in suburbia?!) which was rather awkward since just the other day I had been belting out a bit o' Stevie Wonder "Isn't She Lovely" and was in full-swing doing a little clicking dance down the road when I looked up and saw him looking straight at me. In a panic I just dropped my head and hummed. Sigh.

Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

The Mayor Of Numptyville

Yesterday I had a little bit of retail therapy with what little money I have left from saving for a Walkman (and then realising that my Dad has a Walkman and consequently splurging my money on useless crap). I loved meeting up with Mrs Nerg who always helps me get a little perspective and who can cheer you up no matter what foul-arse mood you're in.
A bit later on I met up with one of my best friends and we talked straight-out for over 2 hours. She told me about her marvellous boyfriend who sounds like a Top Gent and I couldn't be happier for her. We discussed Knight for a little bit and his new girlfriend and she told me some stuff about him which she had previously not told me about the party she went to (the one where he was there and completely off his face). Well, according to her, her best friend walked in on him and some random girl getting up to things, and apparently it happens a lot.
So now I feel like the Mayor of Numptyville because I totally misjudged him. He's not a serious, committed bloke like I foolishly thought he was, but he's like RF - he's playing the field.
And now that I'm completely sure that he's not My Type, I can most certainly MTFO.
I've even limited my Facebook Stalks to once every 3 days and I've made a deal with my shower that I shall only sing angry-punk songs for a while (including the likes of Avril Lavigne and some of the old Kelly Clarkson stuff).
In a nutshell life is good. I feel....a surge of empowerment and with this new-found power I plan to clear out my wardrobe and do other earth-shatteringly exciting things.
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx

Tuesday, 19 June 2012

Mission: Stop Moping

I'm not proud of myself. Today I slept until 12 and then watched 5 chick flicks in a row (including the likes of Legally Blonde, Drive Me Crazy and Sisterhood of The Travelling Pants) but it's no good. I still feel.... like those sausages in my fridge which are out of date but which I don't have the heart/effort to throw away. I feel like the tacky nailpolish that chips as soon as it's touched your fingernail. I feel like Charlotte Lucas after Collins proposes to Elizabeth. In a nutshell, I feel abandoned. I know, deep down, that Knight is totally wrong for me: he goes out, he drinks, he smokes (all kinds of exotic substances...) and his friends intimidate me (from what I've gathered via my Facebook stalking - I really do need to get out more...). But it's like in 500 Days Of Summer where he can't acknowledge the bad things and only remembers the good - I can only remember the good things and have oppressed the bad.

Until I opened up the tub of Ben and Jerry's. Hey - wallowing is good for the soul! So there I was, wallowing and watching a bit o' Dirty Dancing (a classic I must say) when I realised that Knight isn't perfect and that maybe there is a Johnny out there for me, but I just have to find him. So starting today is Mission: Stop Moping which is quite simple, since I must just:
A. Stop listening to Celine Dione and my Magic FM album (oh, the fact that I have Magic FM on album...)
B. Actually leave my house - tomorrow I'm thinking of having a little retail therapy with my limited/non-existent amount of money. Not the smartest plan perhaps but I need to get out of the house - I just keep thinking of all of the things he must be doing with his new too-pretty-too-rich-boobs-bigger-than-mine-I-don't-like-her girlfriend. Eurgh.
C. Stop wearing Mopey Clothes - although, actually, today was a Dress Like A 'Slut' Day so I've been quite content baring my midriff for all of my furniture to see.
D. Stop stalking Knight's Facebook profile. And stop stalking his girlfriend and yelling 'bitch'. She may be a lovely person. Or she may be a bitch...

Think that covers everything! Oh yeah, and I need to stop consuming my weight in chocolate - last night I had a dream that my prom dress couldn't fit because Willy Wonka made me eat all of the Wonka chocolate bars, so I swelled like Augustus Gloop and my dress ripped. I'm really just a kid at heart, aren't I?!

Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

It's simple as this...

I realise that in my last post I failed to address the key issues I wanted to put out there. I've been thinking about 'feminism' after a friend of mine accused me of being un-feminist. Most people (mainly men) think that feminists are crazy activists who burn things - like suffragettes. They are sterotyped as being losers who are marginalised in society. But, let's backtrack, what does feminism really mean? It's all about guys and gals being treated equally: equal opportunities, equal treatment and equal care. That's why, from now on, I think it's important to make clear that there are rules that we must take to stand our ground.
Rule Number One: if a guy ever offers to pay for dinner then we should say no. See, with Knight I just let him pay for whatever - I mean, he had the cash to do it...! But now I'm going to say 'no' - true, it means that I'll have even less money than I do in my dwindling cash account, but it's a price I'll just have to pay.
Rule  Number Two: Ask him out. This is where it gets tricky. Most of us girls have watched the romcoms - we've seen Heath Ledger chaing Katarina in 10 Things I Hate About You and we've admired Danny's perseverence in Grease. But things are changing; it's now perfectly acceptable for a girl to ask a guy if he's busy this weekend, or if he wants to see a movie with her. It's as simple as this: if a guy can chase what he wants then so can a girl.
Rule Number Three: Treat people equally. This is really obvious, I am aware, but it's really as simple as that: in order to bring about equality you have to not laugh at the "Bring me a sandwich" jokes and you have to be unafraid to stand your ground. I love the 60s - it's a well known fact - and this includes the films, but even my rose-tinted glasses aren't oblivious to the blatant sexism. If you've ever seen Oceans Eleven (the original one of course) then you'll know what I mean - they treat their girlfriends like property, like sex objects, and it's glorified in the film. A girl has to know what she wants and she has to dump the guy who doesn't respect that.
Now that the Basics of Feminism have been covered, I feel it's necessary to extend this rant further - the Rules Of Common Decency:
A. Smile. It's easy to do and everyone loves a smile - just the other day some women from Jehovah's Witness came knocking on my door and they said it made a 'nice change to see a smile' and then we had a nice little talk about Jesus (I'm agnostic by the way but they didn't need to know that...)
B. Don't force your opinions on people. I know some people who are sure of their beliefs and I have total respect for people who have integrity and aren't afraid to show their beliefs. But there is a line. If you are shouting at people or forcing them to see your point of view then that doesn't follow the Rules Of Decency and, instead, that's actually prohibiting open-mindedness. It's just wrong, OK?
C. Say please and thank you - I cannot tell you the number of times that I have held the door open for some 10-year-old chavs and have ensued the silence of the absence of good manners. I wanted to drop the door on them harrumph.

So, I think that's just about everything. I'm aware this has been a long post and is definitely not light-hearted, but these were important messages I needed to put out there to certain people.
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx

Monday, 18 June 2012

The naivety argument

Today one of my best friends said my problems are "white middle class girl problems". I know in the back of my mind that I am a lucky girl from a middle-class suburban background who has an easy life. I'm not moaning about my life; nor am I naive - I know that there is suffering out there, but instead of moaning about it I want to change it and the first way to do that is to adopt a positive outlook to life so you're open to new solutions. That's increasingly hard to do when people are constantly trying to take off your rose-tinted glasses that make you see the world in a nicer light.
Today I also realised that one area of your life must always fall to crap; today I have watched 5 films, consumed 6 chocolate bars and was in a relatively good mood (I defy anyone to watch Dirty Dancing and not be left beaming by the end of it). That was until I checked my Facebook; Knight's in a relationship with his ex. Again, I must credit my Girl Intuition.
I feel angry but I can FINALLY move on from that jerk - he has nothing to offer me anymore; he lies and he doesn't like me in that way anymore.
Just wish he could have told me first. I've wasted 2 years of my life trying to get a Knight but it never occurred to me that there could be a prince/other-royal-member around the corner.
So I'm bidding adieu to the Fairytale ending with my supposed Mr Darcy who actually turned out to be a treacherous Mr Wickham; but don't worry, I'm leaving the Nunnery behind too.
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx

Tuesday, 12 June 2012

The Flirting Complex

I don't understand girls. Being a girl myself I really should understand us better, but as of yet I am still confuddled.
As always, I was on the bus when I made this revelation that I do not understand my own sex. I was people-watching (my favourite activity of all time) when I saw this rather cute boy who was encompassed by these two girls - one sitting next to him and the other sitting in the seat in front and leaning forward. Whenever the two girls talked to each other it was just like how any humans talk to each other - they smiled and chatted normally. Whenever the guy said anything they laughed. Not just any laughing - I'm talking throwing-head-backwards-laughing-like-a-loon laughing. This was usually accompanied my a "Oh, stop! You are bad!".
In particular the girl in front was flirting outrageously - leaning forward and touching the guys arm, doing her trilly little laugh and constantly patting/flipping her hair.
Here's where the mind boggles: if a girl likes a guy (like Flippy Hair obviously does here) then why doesn't she ask him out? It's like we're back in Pride and Prejudice days where the girls had to flirt and try really really hard for the guy to like her, in the hope that he would marry her.
I, personally, don't know of any girls who would ever ask out a guy. Personally? In theory I would but in know the Knight situation.
It's like we're afraid that asking him out means he's just not that into us - but when a guy asks you out then it's normal.
Hence the mind boggles.
It's not just this; flirting in general confuses me. I mean, don't you get tired of having a smile plastered on your face? Doesn't flipping your hair cause your neck to ache after a while? As you can tell I have never flirted with a guy in my life - I just act like he's a girl and talk to him like a human being not some sort of Sex God.
Maybe that's why I'm single...

Must dash, have to do some work! Procrastination/Twitter is the root of all evil...
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

Sunday, 10 June 2012

The Addiction Relapse

It's like with any addiction. When, say, an alcoholic goes cold turkey then things are undoubtedly difficult and they start to remember all of the good times that they've had, forgetting the bad times inbetween. That's what going cold turkey on Knight is like. My brain is filled with these awesome memories that we've had over the past years. Plus it doesn't help that he is a recurring guess star in my dreams (how dare he :O )
If you don't believe me then ask Kesha - she's the one that said 'Your love is my drug' - it's a legitimate fact that being in love is addictive.
You see it all the time in those soppy films that you pretend to hate but secretly love (The Notebook, 10 Things I Hate About You, Dear John.. to name a few).
Hey, I really tried to take the He's Just Not That Into You route and listen to my Relationship Guru RF, but sometimes life turns out to be like 500 Days Of Summer and moving on can take a looooong time.
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

Friday, 8 June 2012

The three certainties

In these troublesome times a girl looks for things which she is sure of. In my case there are three things:
1. I have managed to bruise myself in the face. HOW? you may be wondering. To put it simply, I am a numpty. Yesterday when I opened my wardrobe I was feeling simply too lazy to take down the hanger for my jeans, so instead I thought I'd do the smart-arse thing and just yank the jeans until they fell off (we all do this..). Only, of course, I yanked the jeans too hard and the hanger snapped and flew towards my chin and fast-speed. So now I have a little and dare I say attractive lump on my face. As if I don't have enough worries.
2. It is absolutely impossible to pull an all-nighter on Orange Juice alone. Having consumed 2 red bulls today I feel I have reached my limit; I don't want to become a jittery nervous wreck (again). So I've been fuelling myself with Orange Juice but to no such avail since I am practically asleep. Hence I shall have to go and open another Red Bull. I've kind of gone off Red Bull, though, since Knight once joked that they had Bull sperm in them. It's never tasted right since.
3. That, although I cannot cook, I can invent new snacks which are fantabulously delicious. Today I invented the Nutella Biscuit (it's probably already been invented but LET ME HAVE THIS) where you
A. Take a rich tea biscuit and spread nutella on its reverse
B. Take another rich tea biscuit and spread nutella on its reverse.
C. Put both rich tea biscuits together and smother some nutella on the top biscuit for good measure.
D. Eat and fall in love. Literally - this was my lunch (I had planned to make my infamous Fish 'n' chips but instead opted for this...safer option)

Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

Wednesday, 6 June 2012


I won't blame you for not believing me here but I genuinely am over Knight. Seriously this time. Haing devoured HJNTIY (my bible) I just cannot be bothered to make any more effort - I've texted him and received no answer and the other day I called him and received no answer - yes, he is sweet when we meet up but he's just stringing me along because if he did like me then I'd know  - it was The Biggest Anti-Climax for a reason - because he's not my Darcy.
I haven't a clue who my real Darcy is - it was probably Knight before he went to Africa and came back all different. But there must be more than one Knight out there - right?!
So, this summer, I am officially going fishing. Hurrah!
Keep you posted when I have more time to write and am not trying to revise Geography whilst simulaneously cooking for myself (and you've seen my cooking abilities...),
Grammar Gal xx

Monday, 4 June 2012

He's literally just not that into you

I have found that the past year has been split up into two sections: Before I Cocked Up My Relationship with Knight (a.k.a. before I idiotically rejected his offer to be his girlfriend) & Now (a.k.a. Torture/Magic FM days). I won't deny that there was a time where Knight did really like me - he texted me back as soon as I texted him, we exchanged witty banter and sparks would fly when we met up (Taylor Swift reference...*hangs head in shame*). Then I finally realised what a plonker/dimwit/numpty I was and it was rather like Chapter 36 in Pride and Prejudice (please don't judge me for knowing that... I judge myself for knowing that) where I realised how idiotic I had been and staked a claim in my Darcy. He, in turn, professed his "love" for me.
It's only just occurred to me that this proclamation of admiration was made when he was intoxicated and the next day, when he probably called to take it back, I interrupted him and arranged a day for us to meet up. I'll bet you anything he wanted to retract his claim!
Well, what's done is done. He hasn't texted/called and RF said something to me earlier this evening which has really changed my perspective on the situation: He's Just Not That Into You. And then I remembered my Bible. When I first read this book Knight fancied me and I was reading it for amusement because I love Greg's dry sense of humour. This time when I read it, it was educational and almost all of the cases fit my situation. To sum up - he's just not that into you if:
A. He's always "too busy"
B. He doesn't want to call himself your boyfriend.
C. He doesn't call you.
D. You're not going out.

Sound familiar?
Anyway I'm too depressed to dwell on this subject any longer - it seems that my Knight was just a traitor in disguise and I shall never find my Prince Chaming amongst this throng of manscum.

On a slightly happier note, I just need to thank some very important people for helping me not to sink into some sort of depressive state over Knight:
1. Awesome: Perhaps not recently, but in The Great Slump of me and Knight (where I wallowed in self pity every day) she helped me get a grip.
2. Bazz: For giving me hope about the fishing plan and being strict but sweet with the whole Knight situ.
3. RF who has helped me get a grip. Speaking of RF, guess who's DJing my prom..!?

Keep you posted!
Grammar Gal xxx

P.S. I've received some lovely comments so far, so if you have any other comments/ any questions then feel free to keep the e-mails coming to

Sunday, 3 June 2012

The Relationship Guru

I retract anything which I may have previously written that has made RF sound like a pig. He is now my Relationship Guru/God. He just drifts from girl to girl, not getting too attached, having a bit o' fun but not getting heartbroken. He is incredulous that I have waited for Knight for 2 years and has agreed that we are going to go fishing together in the summer (eeeee!). Literally cannot wait.
So, yeah, he is a Top Babe at the moment and I love talking to him - he's so interesting!

Oh God Oh God. Moral dilemma: does one lie to sound cool or does one tell the truth when the Relationship Guru asks one if one has kissed a boy when one has not?
Maybe if I try really really hard I can make the ground swallow me up...? PLAN.

Happy Queen Day

Today is the day of the Beaver Re-union (a.k.a. the street party) and although I had moaned about it, I was actually quite eager to see how much he's changed and, hopefull, to talk to him.
But my hopes were rather different to the reality...
I had hoped that Beaver would be there and we would have a conversation, perhaps sharing a bit of Pimms, but keeping a clear and level head and reminiscing old times happily. After all, there was a stage in my life where I thought Beaver was The Bees' Knees - I thought he was out of this world and we used to talk e-v-e-r-y-d-a-y-.
I had also hoped to meet the Bangable Neighbour and some of the other modelesque boys that live in suburbia. Perhaps we'd start talking and then - BAM! Fallen in love. OK, maybe that one was a little unrealistic..!
Beaver was there. But so was his intimidating girlfriend. I feel that it is necessary to explain my dislike for his girlfriend. Let's rewind a couple of years; we were at a party in a big hall, all wearing neon and tutus (remember that phase!?) and I saw her. I remember thinking that the guy she was "dancing" [a.k.a. grinding/practically having sex with <-- that was the way all kids danced back in the day, when we were 12..] with was reallllllly pretty and I found myself smiling at him like a plonker because he was so huminahuminahumina-aaah. She saw me - she looked straight in my eyes - and suddenly turned to face the guy and started sucking his face off. Bitch.
So yeah he was with her and so I didn't venture over to them. I stayed nice and safe on my side of the party. I did have a nice time though - and I met a couple of my neighbours :O As for the Bangable neghbur; I couldn't find him! There were a few cuties but they all stayed in their little groups and I realised that the likelihood of falling for any of them was pretty slim because we would never be introduced (unlike Pride and Prejudice, one cannot simply go and introduce yourself to strangers/start dancing with them!).

Well I better get going and do some work (fun times) and maybe I'll go back to the party later and march up to Beaver and demand he speaks to me and remembers the Good Ol' Days. Or maybe not.
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

Saturday, 2 June 2012

Failure of a human being

I do profusely apologise for the news which I am about to divulge.
I am a numpty and I did text Knight *hangs head in shame*.
BUT I asserted my role as an independent gal by only leaving 2 kisses as opposed to 3 (way to show 'em... LOL JK I'm still ashamed..)
Well, chums, today is certainly a Dress Like A 'Slut' Day due to exam stress, but I cannot find an outfit to wear that will not make me too chilly. So I'm dressing as a 'slut' in spirit.
This is the briefest of brief updates but I thought I'd just inform you about my failure as a human being.
Knight did text back though (only with "How are you" - maybe Bazz and RF are right and we should just forget Knight..hmmm...)
Keep you posted when I have more time to write and more news to divulge,
Grammar Gal

Friday, 1 June 2012

Oh, such a STATE

Today I look like a cross between a hobo who has been sleeping rough and a Bromley chav (all I'm missing is a Just Do It bag and loads of fake designer items). Today I thought I'd put on a healthy dose of make-up because my face has been naked for quite some time. Little did I know that I cannot put on make-up to save my life. Needless to say, therefore, my face is a cross between orange and white and my neck is red raw from where I've tried to scrape off the offensive substance that is foundation.
Doesn't make things better that I had two choices this morning: to wear my really uncomfortable skirts (as in, my diaphragm is cut off by them) or to throw on my skirt that I wore a few weeks back, left on the floor of my wardrobe and is consequently creased. Bugger. It was a tricky decision but, hey, us Brits are known for putting comfort first.
Then my hair was refusing to co-operate this morning and so we had a little dispute and I've put it up in a high ponytail to keep away from my face. Only trouble is that I cannot do a high ponytail to save my life, so whilst I was trying to look uber-sophisticated, I now look even more like a chav than ever, with hair sticking up all over the place.
So, just to recap: My face is orange/white, my neck is red raw, my skirt is ridiculously creased and my hair is sticking up.

And now I have to take an exam!?
Keep you posted when my friends/family disown me,
Grammar Gal