Thursday, 30 August 2012

Not My Type

Nice guys don't always finish last.
Look at Prince: he's cute, funny, nice, sarcastic and I used to fancy him.
Maybe that's because he's so...casual. You know - he shrugs things off and doesn't chase girls - he lets them chase him.
Now, that is my type - not the intense guys who reply straight away, ask awkward questions and make un-funny and awkward sex jokes.
The latter are the guys that usually try it on with me.
I won't lie, there haven't been many guys that have "chased" me - I'd say about 5?
But I feel like a Creepy Guy Magnet.
My sister once told me that at any party the cute guys will go for the hottest girl(s) in the room and then the Creepy Guys will go for the slightly less hot girls (a.k.a. me and other normal people) who they feel are in their "league".
On holiday I found this with David - Creepy David who was just...creepy. I think I've already mentioned him but if I haven't, he asked awkward questions and touched me incessantly and just bugged me and wouldn't leave me alone.
Then on my French exchange trip there was that guy Francois who followed me to the bathroom and took my phone and texted me messages instead of talking to me.
David and Francois were Intense Creepy Guys.
There are more Moderate Creepy Guys like Adam or Duke or Z: these guys make me feel uncomfortable because I want to be friends with them but they make it clear that friendship isn't on their agenda.

So, to conclude, I only attract Creepy Guys (Moderate-Intense) and Loverats (i.e. Knight, Giraffe and Loverat himself).

And that is why I'm annoyed with chick flicks - they've built my hopes up that Patrick Dempsey is going to ride his lawnmower over to my house in that blue checked shirt that makes him look so fiiiiine and is going to whisk me away. And Breakfast at Tiffany's has made me love the rain but anticipate - nay, expect - a gorgeous (albeit annoying) guy to come up to me and kiss me, wrapping his trench coat around our cat.

But let's wake up and smell the roses - It's Creepy Guys vs. Loverats.

Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx

Monday, 27 August 2012

Loverat Exposed - for Bazz

In the past I've respected the privacy of the people mentioned on this blog by giving them codenames and not revealing any personal info about them - including appearance, date of birth and address (well, naturally).
For once I have to break this rule because I need to show Bazz, my good friend and confidante, what Loverat looks like.
Now, I am fairly sure that Loverat shall never have access to this blog but if, by some freaky coincidence, he does, then I apologise but this is urgent.
He is the guy on the right of the picture.
Cute, huh?
But don't worry Bazz, or anyone else reading this, I'm not in the slightest hung up on him of all people. He was The Rebound and nothing more - promise. A lovely and cute rebound, sure. But, hey, let's not forget that by the end of our 2 day "thing", he went off with someone else - like the better version of me: The Grammar Gal 2.0
Whatever :')
What is slightly bugging me is that Knight has returned from Reading with Slutcliffe his girlfriend and she wrote on his wall an hour ago that she wants to Skype him in an hour.
Basically they're talking right now.
But that's fine - no hard feelings. Sure, I would have liked a farewell or even the odd text here and there; but when a girl is being fazed out then she knows. And, believe me, I know.

Festival Fever

As previously established, I'm not a normal teen.
There are very few of us at the Convent that could say they are what is classed as "normal" but I'm weird even by the Convent standards.
It's a day after Reading Festival has ended and all the pics are up of the multitudes of people who went camping and drinking and partying for a long weekend with their friends.
True, this does sound appealing in principle.
In fact, the Normal Teen inside me is screaming at me that I should book my tickets in advance for next year, then go out and buy slutty festival gear, buy a tent and "raise the roof".
Then there's the Grammar Gal inside me that reminds my 'normal' alter-ego that my idea of fun is watching the Emmerdale Omnibus whilst drinking home-made banana milkshake (and by that I mean that Nesquik helped...).
To the Grammar Gal inside me, a festival sounds just about as fun as bikini shopping - and we all know how much I love that... A Festival is 3-4 days of:
1. Listening to bands whose music I don't and never will like. If this is confusing to understand then perhaps you should know that Elvis, Madonna, the Chordettes, Joan Jett and The Beach Boys currently feature on my Top 25 Most Played playlist on my iPod. Not Rizzle Kicks.
2. Creepy guys staying in tents next to you and therefore making awkward conversation with them in the mornings or, if you're unlucky, being hit on by them.
3. Alcohol excess. Actually, alcohol's not too bad..
4. Mud, meaning that any clothes bought could and would be ruined.

Need I say more?
Then again, I'll probably buy some wellies, try to convert myself to the "conventional" music of the 21st century and I'll see you in Reading next year.

Who knows? It's possible...
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

Saturday, 25 August 2012

Boys On The Brain

OK, so it turns out that I'm a big fat liar.
Me without a boy to daydream about is like Catwoman without sex-appeal. It will never happen.
Now it seems that I've reached a metaphorical dead-end:
Knight = amounted to nothing.
Loverat = amounted to nothing.
Prince = amounted to nothing.
Must I go on?!

Sure, for the first 10 days it felt great after things went tits-up with the Loverat and I felt Zen and weirdly free from the hassle of being head over heels with someone out of my league/emotionally unavailable.
But now I cannot listen to Taylor Swift songs and feel uplifted or watch 10 Things I Hate About You and not be insanely jealous of Kat.
Gaaaa. I well and truly have boys on the brain.
But it's no good - I never 'fall' for the right guy. Or, if I do, then I manage to cock it up. Big time.
I have no regrets with the whole Knight thing now and I have truly moved on from him and all of the other loverats that I, at one stage, fancied (anyone remember Duke...and Afro ...and Giraffe..?!!) yet now I feel...slightly empty.
I mean, I miss doing my hair for a particular person and hurriedly chugging back Smints every time they come near, nervously talking about the weather and school and any other crap that pops into my mind whilst simultaneously trying not to sweat and thereby avoid Sweaty Betty Syndrome ... Oh, and don't get me started on my "flirting". I'm not sure if you can call it that when upon flicking my hair I got it caught on my lipgloss and had to de-tangle that. If you've ever got hair stuck to your lipgloss you'll understand that it's not an easy situation to get out of smoothly.
Or there's the time I bought a ridiculously large and expensive box of gum so I could offer it to Giraffe. He said no. I was baffled - it was, after all, such a flawless plan...

Well well well, new Plan Of Action - here is my plan to not get a man: I'm going to just be chillin like a villain and I'm not going to make an arse of myself in front of members of the opposite sex. That is my new and early New Years Resolution.
We'll see how long it lasts.
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

Wednesday, 22 August 2012

Stopping the Stiff Upper Lip

Surprisingly I found my friend's house after rotating the map several times and asking people for directions (which, incidentally, was not useful since I was mis-informed by one bitch lady and had to walk a lot longer than necessary).
Lately I've been on a mission: Reversing The Stiff Upper Lip Stereotype. It all hit me when I was on the tube and no-one was talking: people in Britain aren't friendly. Ordinarily I'd take this to be part of our wacky culture but I was watching some chick flicks and I realised that I'm never going to meet someone in a shop, start talking and BAM fall in love. Instead we would lock eyes, look away in embarassment and then go our separate ways and never see each other again.
Think I'm being silly?
Here's some evidence.
Today I was on the bus and I saw this really cute guy who was tall, dark and handsome (every girl's dream) and we locked eyes for a couple of seconds and then... nothing. He didn't talk to me, I didn't smile at him and violins didn't start playing.
This is why fishing is a pain in the arse if you're British - talking to strangers is associated with being insane. And I'm on a mission to make this stop.
Next year I'm hoping to start chatting with strangers I meet on the bus and people I meet at school. I want to be friendly with people and avoid being called "antisocial" by my mother...

Tomorrow is Doomsday a.k.a. Result's Day and to say I'm scared would be as obvious as saying Nigella Lawson is gorgeous.
Wish me luck!
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx

Monday, 20 August 2012

Relief with the Rebound

I've realised that after every almost-relationship that I've cocked up, the only way to get over it is to find a rebound. With Beaver my rebound was Giraffe. With Giraffe my rebound was Knight. With Knight my rebound was Dan the Loverat. But even though the Loverat snogged me then left me for someone prettier, leggier and more intelligent, I don't have any hard feelings there.
Because now I'm over Knight.
It's a beautiful cycle and I wasn't that attached to Loverat so I don't need a rebound for him. So now I'm feeling Zen and lalalalalala again :')
At present I am rather worried. I have to find my friend's house and I've never been there before. For a normal person that would be fine, but for me a map is like a rubix cube: insolvable and usually easy to give up on. Today, however, I have printed off an actual map and written myself some rather patronising instructions.  I'm all set. It's like my very own D of E experience :')
Now, in the very likely event that I cock this up I'm going to have to rely on staying calm and not running around like a mad goose (like last time I got lost - which was, incidentally, on the day of my Chemistry GCSE exam - let's just say that I was as calm as Bugs Bunny on speed..)
I still have a list of things that need doing before I attempt to find my friend's house and whilst I know that I shall watch Jeremy Kyle in my PJs first, I still feel I need to bid you adieu :)
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx

Tuesday, 14 August 2012

Summer of Sun, Fun and Snogging

I'm back!
And boy oh boy do I have news.
At the start of the cruise I was having an OK time but I felt I was missing out on something - I kept seeing people my age hanging out together and wondered why I wasn't hanging out with peeps my own age. This all change when I met Kailey and Katie, two sweet and stunning Canadians at our dinner table. They took me to the club for 15-17 yr olds and that's where I met Flo who is already one of my best friends and I'm going to stay in touch with her for as long as possible.
They took me out almost every night (usually getting me completely off my face drunk) and I had so much fun that it's ridiculous!
I was originally dubious about the dancing. In my free time I listen to MC Hammer on full blast and do Crazy Dancing which is unattractive to the eye but so much fun. These girls did Proper Dancing - as in, they did all the sexy hair flicks and swaying stuff that I've seen in movies but never known possible. It took a lot of alcohol to make me dance like that.
Alcohol was available through loads of different people and one of the most memorable nights was the Whiskey Night where I tried to chug some whiskey and it missed my mouth and proceeded to go into my eye and up my nose. I looked about as attractive as the Loch Ness Monster on a bad hair day.
Then there was The Drunk Night which was where I had glasses (as opposed to shots) of Vodka and then some gin. It was then that I "made out" with Dan. Dan was a cute British 18-year-old guy who I'd talked to before about Britain and school and stuff but it seems that whenever I talked to him one of us (or both of us) was ridiculousy drunk. Well on The Drunk Night he could barely walk and I was so light that I thought I could fly and run like Edward Cullen (I'll explain in a minute). We both went on the balcony to get some "fresh air" and suddenly I was on his lap and my lips were keeping his company. It was surprisingly nice and we talked for a little bit but talking is rather tricky when you're that far gone..!
That's when I went Edward Cullen running - I ran so fast! I was immensely shocked with my running capabilities - Mr. Bolt step aside! Well I ran so fast that my legs turned to jelly and I "needed" a piggyback from Dreamy Dan (who was staggering around with me on his back, what with him being so drunk).
It was like a modern-day fairytale.
The next day we both got drunk again but we didn't see each other until around 1 when I was going home and then he ran up to me and lifted me up (he's a lot taller than me so he lifted me to kiss him) and I - cringe- wrapped my legs around him and kissed him. Then he walked me to my door and we drunkenly kissed again.
I was feeling pretty high on love, but I knew we should actually talk more before snogging again - I'm not one of those girls.
The next night I saw Dan and said 'Hey Dan' in a happy voice but only received a monotonous and low-pitched 'Hi'. Realising he was ignoring me (and taking the hint from the girl's legs that were stretched out over him) I went and got my friend Patricia who advised me to walk by him with a group of guys and gals and make him jealous, which is what I did (but I'm not sure if it worked..!).
Later that evening we were up on the Lido Deck and I saw Dan with a girl so Flo and I went to see where they were. They were snogging - quel surpris, I always pick the tossers.
After that Dreamy Dan became Douchebag Dan.
Douchebag Dan punched my heart (but don't worry, it's not been broken yet..!) and he deserved to pay.
The next day I wore a revealing bikini and marched right up to him after spying on his having been with 3 different girls in the hot tub and having his friend Adam remark this as being "normal" because he "snogged a lot of girls".
I walked up to him and punched his arm in a "playful" way:
Me: *punch* Hi, Dan *smiling*
*Awkward pause since he knows I saw him with the girl last night and knows I talked to Adam*
Dan: Hey... I can't believe it's our last day! After this I won't be getting another vacation for 5 years
Me: Oh, beause you're going to work on cruise ships, right?
Dan: Yeah.
Me: Well, you'll like that. My friend works on a cruise ship and he has a different girl at every port - I think you'll really like it
*slight pause*
*punches his arm again* Bye Dan *smiles and walks away leaving him looking a little confused*.

Later that night he said he thought I was going to slap him. We talked and I told him - with a little help from Mr Vodka - that I think he's a douchebag and that he should rot in hell and that I regret snogging him because he's no good and he snogs every girl he sees. I also told him I hope he ends up with a girl called Katilin (she was American and HATED England - she said she's rather live in a third world country..! He apparently fancied her and told her he hadn't got off with anyone - I told her this was a lie and she gave me a look that could kill..!) because she's a bitch so they'd be perfect together.
He then told me that he had only hooked up with me and the girl I'd seen him with the night before - all the girls during the day were just friends, and he told me that he used to get bullied about being gay since all his friends are girls; he finds them easier to talk to.
It was a tricky conversation - I wanted to believe him but part of me was still mad. Besides, he had still got with that other girl - was I his sloppy seconds?
He assured me I wasn't his sloppy seconds and said he really liked me because I'm intelligent and he only goes for intelligent girls. He then told me to go and find someone new and said it wouldn't be hard because I'm supposedly "hot".
In the end we hugged and he kissed my cheek and my forehead and then we went our separate ways.
It was only when I reached Flo and Adam that I realised I was a total pushover and Adam assured me that Dan was lying - that he hooked up with loads of girls.
When I saw Dan again I called him a tosser jokingly and said "Goodbye Douchebag Dan" to which he answered with an attempt of denial and then we both smiled at each other and walked away.

Drama drama drama!!!
Well now it seems I need a rebound for my Knight rebound...!
Oh, why is life so complex?!
Keep you posted and promise the next post won't be this long!
Grammar Gal xxx

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

Ciao, chums!

Today is the last official day before I'm off on a Mediterranean Cruise so it has, naturally, been packed with all of the things I've been postponing. Such as...
1. "Packing" - a.k.a. Watching Jeremy Kyle show
2. The Worst Experience Ever - it comes once a year, every summer; that's right girls, the bikini wax. To say that it's painful would be like saying that Will Smith is a Sex God - it's so obvious that it's not worth saying. A portion of my day has therefore been spent mentally swearing. Something along the lines of: "OH MOTHER OF F***" but in my head of course..!
3. Actually packing to motivational music - a.k.a. Magic The Album.
4. "Painting" my nails - a.k.a. taking an hour to pick a colour then feeling too tired to paint them.

So, in brief, I am cream crackered and I have to go to sleep now at the ridonkulously early time of 9:30 PM because I have to wake up at the ungodly hour of 2AM to catch a flight to Barcelona!

Hopefully there's Wi-Fi onboard but, if not, I will let you know the highlights of the trip when I get back on 14th August :D
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal

P.S. Bazz and I met up and we realised that the Prince Plan is a no-go because we don't see each other enough, he's too shy to ask me out, I'm too shy to ask him to ask me out and I don't even have his number. I'm glad you understand..

P.P.S. Bazz met some hot Spanish dudes on her cruise so fingers crossed... :')