Saturday, 23 January 2016

The First Date

Tonight is my first date since Mr Melon and I broke up. I mean, I seem to have been on a couple since then but they were accidental - I thought those guys were just my friends and then they were like "good date?" and I was like "whaaaaaat".
But tonight it's official - I'm a single pringle (the Mayoress of Singletown, in fact) and I have a Tinder Date :O

To say I am unprepared would be a colossal understatement. The date is in an hour and I am sitting here in my sweaty onesie (I really need to wash that!) and mid-cooking disaster. I'm making spaghetti bolognese. I thought the hob thing was boiling my pasta but it turns out it wasn't, so now my mince is cooked but the pasta has 20 mins to go! Quel disaster.

Also, I decided to shave down there but I couldn't quite reach all of it because our shower is pretty tiny, so now half of it is clean-shaven, but the other half is a Lionel-Richie style afro!! Oh well, at least that gives me reason not to bring Tinder Guy back!

That, and my messy room. It looks like a squatter has been living in it for a month - or like Ross' girl's room in Friends with all the rats and stuff. OK, so I don't have rats (but then again, I could do - you literally can't see the floor so there could be a family of them living under my cupboard. Oh dear God, why have I gone down this thought path. Abort thoughts of rat family - abort!!!)

Not only am I unprepared physically, but I also just have no idea how first dates work. Is it like a job interview - will he mark me down if I'm late? Or is it cool to be late, because then I look all James Deane and cool??

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FUCK MY LIFE! I JUST BURNT MY LIP ON THE HOTTEST PASTA KNOWN TO MAN - WHO KNEW I WAS COOKING IT ON THE SURFACE OF THE SUN????!!!

I'd better go and sort out my face/clothes/life.
Keep you posted,
Grammar Gal xxx

Friday, 22 January 2016

S & M: Selfish & Misogynistic

"You need to stop getting with random guys in clubs"
This was my Mum's reaction to me crying down the phone to her because some Creepy guy started strangling me when we were drunkenly snogging in a club a few nights ago.
Obviously, she went on to denounce the guy as a massive weirdo and creep, but she still blamed me for getting
A. Drunk
B. With someone I don't know.


I literally don't remember the guy's name - I probably wouldn't be able to pick him out of a line-up. All I remember is that he was quite tall, pretty chubby, socially awkward and very, very forceful.


I hate this whole situation. I am programmed to try to laugh off anything serious - anything that makes me feel miffed or upset is usually turned into a joke that I tell my friends over cocktails. But now it all just feels too...serious.


The more I tell the story the less serious it sounds, and I'm now at the stage where I feel like I am making a big deal over nothing. I told one of my best friends that and she was beyond shocked and decided to remind me of the facts:


Yes, I was very drunk. Completely intoxicated, in fact. I had just been to a Cheerleading speed-dating social, where my friend and I played a game called "drink when a hot hockey guy looks over at you but doesn't approach". It got very messy and, a bottle of wine later, we were pretty smashed.


When we got to the club we were crazy dancing like absolute loons, and being the sassy singletons that we always are. Then I caught Creepy Guy's eye and we started chatting. He said he wanted us to sit down and "talk". Even though I have seen every John Hughes movie and American teen sit-com, I was still na├»ve enough to think that he genuinely just wanted a chat. Or maybe just a cheeky snog. Alas, I was wrong.


He had sinister intentions. We were kissing and suddenly, his hands were travelling places down there...Now, since I was drunk and bearing in mind that the most action I've had since Mr Melon and I broke up has been from my battery-operated pal, Rodney (my vibrator, I like calling him Big Rod), I was kind of happy to let that bit happen. I didn't fully happen, however, because as soon as Creepy Guy felt that I was up to do stuff he went power mad. He grabbed me by the throat so I couldn't move. I pushed his hand away very quickly, but still let him kiss me because I thought "Oh, he is clearly into S&M but I'm not, and he knows that now, so it's fine"


Alas, wrong again. Despite seeing how uncomfortable his gesture had made me, he grabbed my throat again. It was scary. I ran away and cried all night (hysterical, horrible, Sally from When Harry Met Sally crying) and felt so worthless and violated. It was awful.


And now I can't help but feel ill-equipped to deal with assault of any kind. So, some guy did try to strangle me - but lots of my friends have said that I'm "lucky" that nothing else happened. Why do we live in a world where a girl is supposed to count her lucky stars that all that happened to her was that some chubby Creepy guy tried to strangle her??!


Absolutely not OK. The thing that upset me the most was the absolute lack of respect. It felt like he was playing out some twisted fantasy from PornHub on me. He was selfish, he didn't care that I was hating every moment of his company.


It was a horrideous ordeal. I spent all of yesterday crying my eyes out and watching Veronica Mars (she's a sassy character who knows what to do in times of crises). But today is a new day. You can't be constantly scared of guys - they make up half the population! I will be more weary in future, but my Mum is wrong in thinking that I am in any way to blame for what happened. I will keep getting with random guys in club for as long as Exeter sells alcohol and I have a tongue to kiss with. I'm not "asking for it" because I enjoy snogging. Guys shouldn't attack you, and it's not your job to tiptoe around them.