Thursday, 28 November 2013

Walk Out The Door, CHG

I've made a fair few mistakes in my life: from trying to bake a cake whilst home alone and being too scared to take it out of the boiling-hot oven and thus burning it, to spending obscene amounts of money on skirts which are super-cute when worn with certain tops but, otherwise, are absolutely ugly.
But for once I've not made a mistake. Recently, Curly Haired Guy (the tosser that left me for that 8-year-old hoe) came back into my life telling me:
A. He loved me
B. He misses me
C. He was stupid to let me go

And he told his friends that he still likes me.
This confused me muchly but after singing a few verses of Gloria Gaynor's 'I Will Survive', I have decided not to let myself be taken in by a bad man, and that he should 'go on now go, walk out the door'. If he loved me so much then why da fuq did he leave me for a hoe?! He just wants what he can't have and so fuck 'im (not literally, or that defeats the whole purpose of this).
Not that I hate CHG. he's lovely, but tres manipulative, so he shall be a friend and nothing more.
In other news, the Queen Of Jealousy has resigned, as formerly promised, but I'm still a clingy little koala bear (but, in all seriousness, why hasn't Humbug texted me back? It's been, like, a millennium... Ok, it's been 2 days. I'm a freak.)
So now all is well with the world and it's almost Christmas falalalalalalalala

Sunday, 24 November 2013

I can see clearly now the alcohol has gone...

Some people get beer goggles where everyone looks prettier to them when they are drunk. I get Lovely Goggles, where absolutely everyone I meet is deemed to be 'lovely'. Even Curly Haired Guy.
It is a tricky situation - he is so lovely to me, he listens when I talk and (unlike Humbug) he finds me hilarious. But.
Yes, in my hungover state I have decided there should be a but.
He is not the solution. He left me for that 8 year old. And he doesn't make me laugh like Humbug does. I need to steer clear of CHG because he's so damned persuasive and nice and I need to try and make things work with Humbug.

Saturday, 23 November 2013

So you're back, from out of space

I spent around 10 years of my life learning about maths. I learned (kinda) how to add, subtract, divide and how to find 'x'. But what I didn't learn at school is how to deal with an ex when you still kinda like them.
You all know the power that curly haired guy has over me. He's basically my kryptonite. So when he tells me that he was in love with me, that I deserve more than Humbug and that he misses me, I feel like I've gone into a war-zone without any armour.
I don't know what to say! Are things with me and humbug ok? Yes, I guess
But CHG is just so...manipulative.
He makes me feel like he's 'Da One'. Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's the countless 'this-is-my-last-shot's talking...
Keep you posted,
With love from your tipsy gypsy, Grammar Gal xxx

Fantabulous Start for the New Me until...

...Last night!
OK, so I kept my promise. I was a cool kid: very laid-back, very suave. I would see Humbug and actually go and talk to him instead of hyperventilating or running away. Even in English where I am forced to sit behind him and a ridiculously pretty girl, I am able to keep my cool and not see her as a (massive) threat.
Life was so lalalalalalalalalala. I was singing the HAPPY songs of Taylor Swift (and everybody loves a bit o' "State of Grace" and "Stay Stay Stay"...!).
Then last night it was my friend's birthday party.
I got ready with some friends, wearing a creme dress which was so tight that I realised breathing was no longer an option, and a bra that was so tight that I felt like it was velcro-d onto me (but, alas, my boobs still looked the size of golf balls).
Then I got to the party, having already downed half of my Sourz within 15 minutes. I proceeded swiftly and idiotically towards beer and cider.
Then I naturally vommed in the toilets because I put the ass in class.
Having vommed and cleaned my mouth out and eaten my body weight in popcorn, I started talking to Humbug. And one thing led to another and...
Yes, we kissed.
Now, I won't lie: the kissing is gooooood. As in, I'm seriously contemplating entering us in to the Olympics of Kissing because we would win gold. We connect fantabulously on a physical level but...
I'm probably being a goof but I'm not sure we have enough in common.
Nope, scratch that: we have nothing in common! He's laid back and I'm as neurotic as a rocket scientist on speed. He's sciencey and I'm basically an immature, clumsy and un-classy Jane Austen (OK, the only parallel between me and her is that we both like reading).
And our conversation is sometimes confusing because I don't think he understands/appreciates my wacky sense of humour. I feel like this is a guy who tolerates my weirdness instead of liking me for it.
And now tonight there is another party and Curly Haired Guy will be there (the ex) and he will be charming and will make it clear that he loved me and then I will regret my life choices and be tempted by this manipulative knobhead to go back to his lying ass.
So, all in all, we are in a pickle.
But then part of me reckons I may just be over-analysing as per! Maybe I'm just looking for reasons I shouldn't be with Humbug because I don't like committment...
Hmmmmmm....hard to tell. I feel like we both really like each other but I'm not sure if we mesh well...
But I do really like him! And he's a goofy drunk like me, so we were Drunk Skunk Dancing  which was amoosing :L
Anyways, I really must dash and do this English essay. I'm considering not going to the party tonight because I genuinely miss my nights in with my post-its. Social siberia was actually super-fun compared to being in Andover (hungover) and not being able to work. As a workaholic I need to work. Need. Necessity.
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx

Monday, 18 November 2013

Say goodbye to the Queen of Jealousy

You know them girls who are absolutely mental - like Bridget jones in The Edge of Reason? Well, I've become one of their tribe: I speak the Jealous Language, I wear the Neurotic Uniform. I've just been a bit mental, to sum up.
As per usual, I've been dwelling on all of the reasons that me and Humbug shouldn't be together to try and turn me off him because I am a commitment phobe. I've also been totally crazy and jealous of him and other girls / insecure for no reason. Now, THIS is new. In all my other failed dating thingys I've never been a psycho, I'm usually Miss Mellow Marshmallow but now I'm acting like a twazzock.
So I have made the very sensible decision of retiring the Queen of Jealousy.
I've also decided to write on this blog more - I miss writing! It's all Funny Guy's fault for making me stop writing for 2 months and now I keep forgetting to write.
Also, humbug thinks my career goal is cliche :0
Ah it's so weird writing after so long!
Keep you posted (pinkie promise this time)
Grammar Gal xxx

Saturday, 9 November 2013

My Hatred for Technology

In the olden days when the love of your life left you for a random girl you would write them letters and cry about it and then move on. Nowadays, it's not that simple.
There's this thing called Facebook, where Knight the Knobhead is able to message me (asking me what happened to my blog and wishing me a happy birthday) and where he is just a mouse-click away. I don't want that temptation, thank you very much!
Technology is just so frustrating like that. I don't want to be kept updated with what my "friend" the Knob is doing. I don't care if he's having a whale of a time with Sutcliffe.
I'm going to go and live in a cave.

Becoming Rory

I'm concerned. Very concerned. On my first date with Humbug I was a shy little mouse because
A. I was tired
B. He was sooooooo loud that I couldn't get a word in edgeways
C. He was a bit intimidating
D. I had nothing really to say.

However, I thought we had made it through this stage. I thought we were through the Awkward Tunnel and in the fields of mellowness. But, alas, no.
He still thinks I am shy, and I suppose I can see why.
I never talk to his friends because I'm an awkward melon and I avert eye contact with all people who intimidate me. Secondly, Humbug is in my English class where, similarly, there are some really intimidating people (including the teacher himself who is so blunt and says "No, I think you're wrong" to our comments!). So, from this, he thinks I'm really shy.
But when I'm with him I'm usually bubbly and quirky like normal...!! OK, so sometimes I'm ridiculously tired (thanks to the glandular fever last year) and then I'm not quite such a happy chappy and I'm not so full of energy so I'm quiet and I just listen. But SOMETIMES I AM MY NORMAL BUBBLY SELF.
It's like I'm becoming Rory from Gilmore Girls - she spends all her time in the library, she reads, she's shy...
But I'm not a Rory! True, I'm all innocent and naive like her, but I am NOT shy.
I'm outgoing! And Humbug texted me "You're the most outgoing person I know LOL JK" which was so mean...!
And he's meant to be coming round later to watch Lord of the Rings. But I'm so annoyed gaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal