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

I'm not a bad person, I just make bad decisions

Before we get off on the wrong foot, I'd like to point out that when I say bad decisions, I'm not talking about cheating on anyone or stabbing random civilians, or you know, throwing up on a police man or anything. My life is not quite as eventful as Grand Theft Auto, sadly.

Statistically speaking (because you know how I like to ensure I have my facts straight before yelling my views across the internet), a good 98.7 per cent of my life choices are abysmal. I mean, it's shocking. Only, I never realise until it's a little too late. Take that time in year ten when I allowed my hairdresser to cut my hair shorter than shoulder length and I ended up refusing to go back to school the next day because I was unable to stop my hysterical tears over how awful it looked. My friends told me it looked "really nice", but everyone knows that it's written into the friendship bible that they tell me it looks good; but truthfully, I'm unsure whether their words were sincere even now. Or that time in December 2011 when I decided to mix up my skincare routine and tried out some new Neutrogena face wipes and then woke up the next day with a melted face. Nope, I'm not even exaggerating. My face was literally melting. And huge. And kind of weird and warpy. Allergic reactions are surprisingly unenjoyable, but it provided my sister with hours of entertainment so at least someone had fun.

They say that the greatest mistake you'll ever make is being too afraid to make one. Which frankly, I find to be total crap. I'm terrified of making mistakes, yet I still seem to make them anyway. Don't even get me started on the summer evening I was in the shower completely unaware that a) the tune I was blissfully belting out was a Will Young classic or b) that the bathroom window was wide open and all the neighbourhood kids heard every single (off-key) word. I haven't mustered the courage to look any of them in the eye since.

I mean, we all know about my candle debacle, and I constantly grimace about how rarely I shave my legs (who has the energy to be sexy all the time?), but mostly, it's my mouth that gets me into the worst trouble. Shocker! I kind of, how can I put this, 'speak first, think way way later'. And in-keeping with this theme, it has come to my attention that my mum has been following my blog for a fair while. Gulp. There's no explaining my way out of my extensive profanity usage or admitting to sharing a bed with boys. Ooops. Does this mean that when I next return home I should anticipate finding my clothes with red 'A's sewn onto them? I'm sure we can all agree that I'm really terrible at making good choices. Or, really good at making terrible choices, if you will - let's try and put a positive spin on this...

Lately though, my bad decisions have revolved around: hanging out with people I shouldn't, expressing my upset towards people I dislike via Facebook, and opening Snapchats from my friends showing me they've just joined the gym, whilst I'm in bed scoffing Cadbury's Chocolate Fingers. It's just one big vicious circle, isn't it?

~ Eleanor xo

Fourty long overdue apologies

At nineteen years old (yes, really, I'm that many years old - I know you had no idea because I never talk about it...), I have racked up a worryingly large amount of regrets. From buying flared jeans in the peak of my childhood, to becoming addicted to the Sims 2 and butchering my family's laptop in the process, my repertoire is overflowing with "oh good God" moments. But let's be honest, what life is complete without a healthy dose of regret with a side order of self-hatred? We all need things that keep us up at night, that we can over-think while staring out of a car window with one of Adele's songs blaring through our headphones, and that really do warrant a dramatic re-enactment of our favourite rom-com break-up scene.

So I've been thinking, what am I sorry for? After much careful consideration and general "why the hell did I even do that? Eleanor you are a total twat", I have compiled a list of fourty incidents I feel I need to apologise to the world for (because face-to-face apologies are so two-thousand-and-late). And if you're reading the list and think a certain point is about you, well, it probably isn't - don't be so cocky. Ha, no I'm joking, it most likely is.

So without further ado: a bucket full of soz for (being the worst human being ever) and...

1. I am sorry that I can't pay my rent by myself
2. I am sorry that I have no self control when I'm in Zara
3. I am sorry for the times you haven't been able to check your email because I've been streaming crappy American television shows
4. I am sorry for fantasizing about pushing you down the stairs after I learnt that you'd eaten my Nutella without asking. *twitches*
5. I am sorry for accidentally setting that oven glove on fire
6. I am sorry for not texting you my whereabouts and causing you to think I had crashed my car and was in a ditch
7. I am sorry for telling you to "fuck off" on the one night of the year I should've done the exact opposite
8. I am sorry for all the times I've broken the shower. I've lost count of how many times it is now...
9. I am sorry that I use 'swag' as an adjective
10. I am sorry I let you pass out on the floor... whilst I fell asleep in your bed
11. I am sorry I laughed at your misfortune. But hey, karma's a bitch and so am I.
12. I am sorry for constantly borrowing your DVDs without asking
13. I am sorry I always fish for compliments. And I'm even more sorry that you've figured out that I do that.
14. I am sorry that I turn into Miley Cyrus when I'm drunk. And that my tongue has a mind of its own in pictures.
15. I am sorry for spilling the liquid soap in your bathroom. And for only now telling you.
16. I am sorry for smashing one of your plant pots with my car
17. I am sorry for crying for fucking hours and covering you (and everything you own) in mascara. That was so not cool and I deeply regret it.
18. I am sorry I enjoyed your sexting scandal. You did kind of deserve it though. Soz.
19. I am sorry for starting that fight about your ex. And that it lasted three days. I understand your side now.
20. I am sorry I tripped on my pajamas and ended up breaking your textiles coursework
21. I am sorry for breaking your heart after you spent £40 on sending me a bouquet of flowers on Valentines Day. And that you stopped talking to me a year later. Prick.
22. I am sorry for always being late
23. I am sorry for being "a tiny bit over-dramatic"
24. I am sorry that you're all so jealous of me. But I can't help it that I'm popular. Wait, no, that's a line from 'Mean Girls'.
25. I am sorry for getting a nose bleed while we were making out
26. I am sorry for getting rib pain while we were making out. Multiple times.
27. I am sorry that both of those things happened on the same weekend
28. I am sorry that my handwriting is worse than that of a 5 year old child
29. I am sorry for almost running a red light on my way to see you... I'm just generally sorry that I am such an abysmal driver.
30. I am sorry for swearing so fucking much... Ah, man.
31. I am sorry for not always texting back (or replying to snapchats) and being unable to control my use of emojis
32. I am sorry that my appalling taste in music affected you so much
33. I am sorry for always stealing the duvet
34. I am sorry for asking if you would "like me for dessert" whilst we were in a crowded restaurant... and for being unable to keep a straight face as I did so
35. I am sorry that near enough all my clothing has a chocolate stain on it
36. I am sorry I played bejeweled while we were in bed. And that you fell asleep because of it. (I got a high score though, so all was not lost!)
37. I am sorry for always shooting down all the nice things you say to me. I get nervous, ok!
38. I am sorry I still fantasize about one day getting my own break-up scene like the one in 'A Cinderella Story'. But it is so freaking dramatic.
39. I am sorry that I am so pessimistic about everything. "The glass is always completely full of tears".
40. And most importantly, I am sorry that I took a break whilst writing this post to stand on my bed and mime along to 'Let it Go' by Demi Lovato. And that I consequently almost fell off and broke my neck with the force of my air grabs.

So, can you forgive me?

~ Eleanor xo