Monday, 24 February 2014

I am the girl your mother didn't bother warning you about

Feel free to blare 'Bad girls' by M.I.A as you read this. It seems only appropriate.
Or perhaps she did. "Look out for the girl who you will want to simultaneously strangle for being so dramatic, and squeeze in a tight embrace for being so clueless about the general world around her". Ah yes, now you remember. Potentially worse than all those conventional bad girls you hear about, getting involved with one of these will be one of the most interesting adventures you embark on. Or most boring. It's practically the same thing.

Am I rebellious? Not in the slightest. Well, I mean, if you're asking if I spent the majority of my childhood tearing through my house on the hunt for Christmas presents after my parents distinctly told me not to, then yes, I am rebellious! Did I run down school corridors? Ok, perhaps 'run' is the wrong word, it was more of a mix of jogging and skipping (I do not, and will never run. Unless I'm being chased by a crazy person. And even then it's not a guarantee). You may not see me as quite so hardcore once I admit that the first time I ran through a school corridor, I burst into tears because I felt so guilty. Hint one that I am not a rule breaker.

When spelling tests were all the rage back in primary school, I was the only person in my class to turn themselves in and stay in at playtime to re-do my spellings after the teacher told us if we didn't get a certain number right, we weren't getting a break. Actually, this still annoys me. I messed up my spellings because I just wasn't very good, not because I hadn't studied for the test like she insinuated. Plus, the boy quizzing me was a humongous douche bag but I kind of fancied him so I really didn't have the brain capacity to waste on the spellings.

I made it through secondary school with exactly zero detentions under my belt. The one time I almost got into trouble by accidentally lobbing a paper ball at my teacher (I was aiming for my friend across the room), the guy I happened to have a massive crush on, took the blame for me. It was one of those 'making of a true love forever' kind of things. I still remember the look of complete terror that crossed my face before my knight in shining armour stepped up. I am forever in his debt.

I have yet to go through my Miley Cyrus style transition, but I'm somewhat hoping it arrives before I get to the serious part of my twenties. I have learnt through the last few years that unfortunately, I am not a slutty party girl. I suppose technically I dance kind of slutty, and I wear shorts so tiny they could be classed as underwear, but a nightclub is no place for ballgown slow-dancing. Though that image does look hilarious. And really, who doesn't love a good dance on a podium?

My 'bad girl' resume would include things like, 'once slapped a guy in the school cafeteria', 'uses swear words more than any other kind of word', 'called a guy a wanker for stepping on her foot as she danced to Taylor Swift', as well as the not-to-be-overlooked: 'once got a black eye from a rounders ball', 'recently smacked the left side of her face with her wardrobe door', 'got laughed at by a bunch of skaters for buying an 800gram box of coco-pops' and 'narrowly avoided getting punched by a girl who wasn't so keen on being called a bitch'.

Pretty badass, yes?

~ Eleanor xo