Thursday, 24 May 2012

Fresher No More: Gracie's first year of university.

Once again, my life is packed up in boxes. I'm saying goodbye to "my little room" in West Downs Student Village after nearly ten months of living here, and returning to "my big room" (which in actuality is probably the exact same size) in my little hometown of Battle, East Sussex. My first year of university is over.

I'm not really sure how to even begin to say goodbye to the university, to the village or to all the amazing people I see every day.

My little room in Flat 38 has been a safe haven for me, my own private space away from parents and little sisters to do whatever I wish in; having said that, the rebellious acts that take place in this room are fairly limited to excessive drinking, staying up late and having a ridiculous amount of sex. I won't be starting a rebel movement any time soon, I'm pretty sure that's average behaviour for a student. In my family home, however, I am often told not to shut my bedroom door (because it's rude and mischievous), to be in bed by a certain time and to generally behave myself while there are other people in the house. So the things I will miss most about Room 3, Flat 38 include: light switch next to the bed, the sink next to my wardrobe, my wall of photos, my desk drawers full of chocolate and sweets, my super-soft desk chair (stolen sofa chair from the kitchen), my window with a gorgeous view, and my mysterious and luxurious non-university mattress that came with the room (which I intend to steal when I leave on Saturday).

The flat itself, or rather "house" as the flats in West Downs are referred to, is something I never thought I'd miss, but I may do after all. Even my flatmates, whom were somewhat awkward and unusual when we moved in, have become friends over the past few months after we all relaxed with each other and developed rapport - which was really just constant teasing and slagging off. Obnoxious 30 year-old American Frank "The Tank" with his "don't mess with Texas" T-shirts, war stories and terrible jokes has been both a nightmare and a comfort to have living across the hall from me. He teases me relentlessly, makes fun of anything from my accent to my choice of boys, but deep down I know that he looks out for me and would be the first one on the scene should anything go wrong. Chinese student Lance struggles with English and yet is still the funniest person in the whole flat, and we have had some lovely chats about his home in China and our mutual love of Adele. 21 year-old Brummy Sean is a Primary Ed student and is always bringing home new creations such as posters and Ferris wheels made out of lolly sticks and plastic cups. Every chair in the kitchen is covered in glitter and paint thanks to him. He's also a relationship expert, having been a loving and dedicated boyfriend for nearly five years and therefore an unquestionable authority when it comes to solving other peoples' relationship problems. He's also the one who started the flat trend of screaming "BITCH!" (usually followed by "make me a sandwich!") at one another for no apparent reason. Alice In Wonderland is a 20 year-old blonde beauty who wears beautiful clothes and has (or apparently shares with me) a questionable taste in boys. She tells everyone off for making mess in the kitchen, and always cooks the same three meals for herself every day: Nutella on toast and tea for breakfast, tomato soup for lunch, pasta with carrots and some form of meat for dinner. Gemma the lesbian is the ghost flatmate; we see evidence that she has been here, but we never seem to pin her down. She uses her kitchen items and sometimes we hear creaks upstairs in her room, but she hardly ever materializes. She's built like a little boy, wears skinny jeans and glasses and has a nervous and awkward speaking voice. We often joke that she lives in one of the cupboards in the kitchen with Henry the Hoover. Jackie "Jack Jones" is the first person I met when moving in, and the one I spent the most time with while living here. She's a Portsmouth gal, which makes her outgoing, darkly funny and cynical at times. She loves clubbing and drinking, and her drink of choice is Jack Daniels - instant respect. We reached a point when we were talking/thinking alike, and cooking the same meals for dinner (fried eggs, "good shout").
I didn't particularly enjoy sharing a shower and toilet with the two boys on the ground floor, especially since one of those boys was a big hairy American, but thankfully I got used to it. Still, one of the things I am most excited to be going home to is my power shower (mmmmm).
Flat memories are few, considering I spent a lot of my time with other people in their flats, but the few I have were special. Staying up until 3am talking about love and life in the kitchen with Frank, coming home drunk many a time AND watching flatmates come home drunk, climbing in through the kitchen window when we couldn't be bothered to unlock the door, decorating the place for Christmas, writing filthy messages on the fridge with magnets, Nerf gun wars, sellotaping the whole kitchen as a surprise for those coming home from a night out, Sean's poker nights with the lads, all of us bitching about Maria the lazy cleaner, watching The Mighty Boosh and playing video games at the kitchen table all night long.
I still haven't quite worked out how I'm going to say goodbye to my flatmates, or the flat itself, so I'm hoping the words will just come to me on the day.

When I wasn't in my little room or hanging out with the misfits in my kitchen, I was down the road at St Lizzies or across the street in flats 77-80. I've already dedicated a post to my friends down the road and across the street, but I can't not include them in my ridiculously long end-of-uni post.
The St Lizzies people were the first group I met, besides my flatmates, when I started in September. We all spent an evening getting a Chinese takeaway and playing zombie video games; this was the night I got the phone number of a girl I have ended up renting a house with next year. Funny. I've spent most of my time walking back and forth along the main road between West Downs Student Village and St Elizabeths Hall; dressed as a Pokemon, with a towel wrapped around my head and hair dye setting in, in pyjamas and a dressing gown, in high heels and a smart dress, covered in paint and foam... I've had the locals of Winchester staring at me as they wait for the bus, tutting as they pass me on the street and shaking their heads while driving alongside me. Totally worth it. I've also earned the nickname "Latcher" from the St Lizzies inhabitants, because I am constantly putting their front door on the latch so I can come in whenever I want. I've got in trouble with a few for referring to Lizzies as "The Slums" and apologized for it, adding that the St Lizzies folks are one of the best groups of people I've met at uni.
The Lizzies lot are second only to my fellow West Downers, specifically those in flats 77, 78 and 80. I also have a couple of lovely friends in flats 37 and 60. One thing you should all know about West Downs: it's the most friendly and social place on campus. Everyone is out and about, wandering between flats and catching up with one another on Main Street, calling out of windows and off balconies... And when the sun comes out, oh my. Everyone flocks to the green areas, sunbathing and relaxing and playing music. Not like Queens Road, just down the hill - their "village" consists of several blocks of flats, and barely any common outside area to speak of. The Queens inhabitants (or "Queens wankers", if you like) are more socialized with their own flats than the others around them. It doesn't seem worth the extra £1,000 they all pay per year. Not that I don't have a few good friends down in Queens, but still, my loyalty is to West Downs. Last night, after the last BOP party of the year, my friends and I barricaded and vandalised a couple of Queens flats, and ran away shouting "West Downs is the BEST, pricks!"
I have met the loveliest group of friends in West Downs, friends that I will miss immensely over the holidays, and in fact that I plan on meeting up with a few times before we return in September. I have trouble trusting people when they say "friends forever" or "friends for life", because I've been let down in the past, but even if we lose touch after three years, which I doubt we will, I won't regret anything.

Nights out are a big part of uni, as is drinking. I was saying last night that I have been drunk more times at uni than I have anywhere else. It's a daily occupation here, drinking, and has been quite a shock to my system over the past academic year. Being one of the youngest in my year group, I was among the last to turn eighteen and so missed out on nearly a whole year of nights out and alcohol abuse. So when it all kicked off in September, I was completely unprepared but desperate to make up for a year of watching everyone else go out and drink without me. Since then I have spent nights out in town, nights at the SU, nights in with takeaways, movies and cider, all with the wonderful friends I have made here. I've come home at 3am covered in highlighter pen and permanent marker scribbles, with glowsticks attached to my underwear, with cat whiskers painted on my face, soaked in multi-coloured UV paint, with red lipstick drawings all down my legs, carrying the remnants of a large Dominos pizza, and a few times I have been lucky enough to bring someone home with me. Of all the things at uni that have inspired blog posts, I think drinking is the top one.

I'm quite relieved and glad that I never joined a sports team. Besides my brief six-week stint as a member of the tennis team, I've managed to avoid the horror and humiliation of being in a university team. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to join two teams in particular (Dodgeball and Ultimate) but sadly I can't purely because a girl who loathes me is on both of them. What are the odds? Anyway, I'm not cut out for tournaments or matches, nor am I prepared in both mind and body for the social requirements of being in a team. Just six weeks as a Fresher on the tennis team was enough embarrassment and terror for me; a series of vile dirty pints being drunk out of wellington boots, penis-shaped items being thrust in my mouth, an endless amount of press-ups on the dancefloor, shots poured down my body and sucked out of various orifices, obscenities written all over my skin, and only two sessions of tennis training. And that's nothing compared to the more established sports teams. Just last night, at the last BOP of the year, we were pre-drinking outside in the sunshine and watching the team socials happening on the field opposite. The hockey girls were playing some kind of game involving condoms containing all different kinds of alcohol and dangling from a hockey stick, and by 8pm they were all throwing up in the trees; they then filled a bowl with their own sick and threw it all over the football team lads, screaming "chunder bowl!!!" then running away giggling. The football boys then retaliated by filling a water gun with their piss and spraying the girls with it.
Still, sitting there watching all this, I couldn't help but think "this behaviour would never be acceptable anywhere else, but it's the norm at uni." It's a different world here. One where you can walk down the main street of your student village barefoot and absolutely bladdered at 4pm, an ice cream van visits every day, it is not socially acceptable to go to bed before it's light outside or to wake up before the sun is at its highest in the sky, going out in full fancy dress is just a regular Friday night, the Walk Of Shame happens every week, you are constantly finding condoms on your stairs or in the hallway, and someone can text you and ask if you want to "hang out" at 1am.

Looking back over blog posts before uni, I realise that they mostly revolved around my personal life and my mixed feelings about relationships, and most of all my bad luck in the romance department. I like to think that since coming to uni, my opinion on what is worthy of publishing has improved, and my posts are more varied and interesting, and well, less whiny and tragic. Also, since being here I've had more positive experiences where my personal life is concerned. I won't go into detail because a) those involved might feel awkward or uncomfortable b) I may gush, and c) to quote Olive Penderghast, "it is nobody's goddamn business". I won't be cheesy and write about my best kiss to date which took place amongst a flurry of foam, my adventure to London, my trips to the cinema, or dancing in the street at 2am in my pyjamas with a gorgeous guy in a suit. I won't mention spending a day in the sunshine plucking daisies and muttering "loves me, loves me not" (always "loves me not"; either the daisies are all against me or some things just never change). Mind you, no matter what my personal feelings for someone are, if things don't work out for whatever reason, I know we'll still be the best of friends. And that's a nice feeling.

I've arranged to see friends from uni over the summer months already. There's talk of nights out in Bournemouth in June, and I'll be staying at my dear Rikki's place in Poole for a few days. I'm visiting everyone when they all move into their new houses in July (I don't move into mine until late August). After saying goodbye to Phil yesterday I realised that we'll be seeing each other several times over the holidays; including a trip to see Avenue Q (imagine how excited I am and then multiply it by a million), both of our birthdays and Reading Festival. In fact, I'm seeing a lot of people at Reading Festival. During the more boring weeks spent at home in front of the TV, at the gym or possibly working, just the thought of all t
hese things will be keeping me going.
It's so strange to think that a year ago, I didn't know any of these people. And now I'm living within walking distance of them all, spending every day with them and planning visits and meet ups over the summer. I can't imagine not knowing them.

The last thing I seem to mention when talking about university is my course. Y'know, what I'm meant to be here for. I've spent the year studying Drama and Creative Writing, and I've loved it. At times it's been challenging, but always rewarding. I've also surprised myself in that I've loved the Creative Writing side of the course more than the Drama of it... My first year studying this course has helped me decide, finally, what I want to be when I grow up: I want to be a writer.

So here I am, sitting at my desk in my little room, blasting Foo Fighters out of my speakers in the window for the benefit of my flatmates playing football in the sun, about to get ready for my last night at the SU as a Fresher. Not even considered packing yet. Eyeing up my bottle of Malibu on my window sill. Looking at my wall of photos, beautiful memories of this crazy year. I feel like I should run down West Downs Main Street shouting "thanks everyone!" But I won't. I'm emotional, but not an idiot. So I'll just say goodbye, thank you and... Until next year.

The songs I've added into this post are the ones that I have grown to associate with my first year at uni. All happy, of course.

Monday, 21 May 2012

One of my "things".

Sometimes, we don't realise what we want the most until we see the clock change to 11:11.

I make a wish at 11:11, if not every night, at least when I am around to see the time change (sometimes I don't catch sight of the clock until it's 11:14...). I have a ritual about it, however. I only wish if I actually see the time change from 11:10 to 11:11, because then I truly deserve my wish and I'm not wasting the Wish Granter's time on me when he/she could be helping orphans in Africa. I also have to repeat my wish, in a whisper, over and over again until the 11:12 arrives -and when it does, I have to stop wishing immediately, mid-sentence if necessary.

And, of course, I never ever tell people what I wish for. That's the rule.
I'm sure you can all guess what the majority of my wishes are for, though.

Sunday, 20 May 2012


Hi, my name's Gracie. I am a bro not a hoe, I hate people seeing me cry, vodka is not my friend, I never back down from an argument, I get on better with boys than I do girls, I love creating photo walls, Joshua Radin has tweeted me, I have absolutely no idea what to do with my hair, the only GCSE grade that I remember is my A* in Art, I can tell when a girl is "faking it", I have never met anyone who looks like me, I get jealous over the stupidest things, I use the internet as a place to vent and be myself, I miss acting and doing plays, I get more excited about my birthday than a 7 year-old would, I sleep in until 2pm every day, tell me you like Gilmore Girls and we will be best friends, I spend too much time on Tumblr nowadays, if I have no plans for the night I will get changed into my pyjamas at 5pm, I constantly worry that people find me annoying, I love "how we met" stories, I have finished my first year of university, and I'm nervous about going home.

I do one of these posts every month.

Monday, 14 May 2012

To the future...

The questions "what do you want to be when you grow up?", "what are you going to do with your life?" and "where do you see yourself in five years?" are nothing short of terrifying. For a very long time I have avoided answering friends, relatives, teachers and strangers when they ask me any of the above. I eventually reached the point where I was so exasperated and so tired of constantly hearing these dreaded questions at parties, parents evenings or family gatherings that I began saying a very polite yet vague "I'm not sure yet, I have several options and I'm just taking my time to decide". However, occasionally I would utter a much less polite and a far more true response: "I honestly have no idea".

What do you want to be when you grow up?
I have gone through all the usual phases concerning future careers: when I was three I was determined to be an artist, by the time I turned seven I was dead set on being an author, at ten I was researching careers involving world travel, and throughout my teen years I was certain I wanted to be an actor. Now, at eighteen, I'm more sure than ever: I want to be a writer. I want to be paid to write a blog, contribute to a magazine or newspaper, maybe publish a book. I realised this for the first time while I was packing up my bedroom before starting university; I found myself with a whole Ikea storage crate containing only notebooks, all of which were full of short stories, articles, character descriptions, lists, diary entries... I knew this was what I wanted, and it was what I'd wanted all along. Very handy that I'm studying Creative Writing at university then, really.

What are you going to do with your life?
I have a three-page Bucket List consisting of items both simple and challenging, all waiting to be crossed off. The list grows at an alarming rate as I realise all kinds of new and crazy things I have yet to do. These things include: living in Australia for six months or more, getting a tattoo, meeting Joshua Radin, having a Vegas wedding, and being on Strictly Come Dancing. I plan on running away to Australia right after I finish university, and worrying about silly things such as getting a job later on. Ultimately, I'm sure I'll end up married with some adorable children and living in a house with a massive garden, because that's always seemed like a given. From a very young age I was taught that everyone grows up, gets married and has children. That's "normal". I am one of those annoying unoriginal idiots who jokes about growing old in a house full of cats, when really I quite like the idea of being married and having a family one day. After all my crazy adventures, of course.

Where do you see yourself in five years?In five years I will be twenty-three, nearly twenty-four... Nowhere near old enough to be settled and serious. 
I will want to be out of my little hometown by this point, definitely. I like to think I'll be travelling still; maybe working one year and travelling the next, maybe living in some big city spending my days exploring and chasing opportunities, and my nights meeting new people and going a bit mad.

The future is seeming less and less scary by the day. I mean, once you've moved away from home, and started looking after yourself, cooking your own food and deciding your own bedtime, the rest seems simple enough.

Stay tuned for when I will inevitably be proven wrong.

Monday, 7 May 2012

Oh, Joshua.

My favourite singer, and possibly favourite person, in the world is Joshua Radin. He is a gorgeous Ohio native with a love for creativity, classic guitars and whiskey, in possession of a voice so heartbreakingly beautiful that it knocks girls off their feet and leaves a room still. His hushed and spellbinding singing voice draws you in, blocking out everything else around you, sends you to a peaceful place and makes you believe in love again. What's more, his undeniable and striking good looks, charming demeanour and endearing self-deprecation almost bring you to your knees.

Your name is the splinter inside me, while I wait...

Joshua came into my life when I was in a dark place (it's so clich
é, it can only be true), and his first album 'We Were Here' is what kick-started my obsession with love and the power and importance of memories. His song 'Winter' brought tears to my eyes the very first time I heard it, and after seeing him play it live (twice), I don't think anything will ever compare to it. I would play the whole album through my headphones at night to send me off to sleep, and dream of a magical happiness that had once seemed unattainable; these songs gave me hope that someday I'd have everything I ever wanted. I have a friend who has a lyric from his song 'Today' tattooed on her shoulder (I sat beside you and became myself); this song was also Ellen Degeneres' wedding song. I have never been one of those girls who plans her wedding day from age four, but when I was younger I knew just one detail about my perfect wedding: Joshua would be there, singing me down the aisle (that is, if I wasn't marrying him). Some girls dreamt of going on a date with Zac Efron or kissing Justin Timberlake... I wanted to marry Joshua Radin.

All the gold dust in her eyes won't reform into rain.

Joshua's second album, 'Simple Times', coincided conveniently with a schoolgirl crush. This was a time when I was extremely possessive over my favourite musicians; I wouldn't let my family or friends hear what I was listening to or let them borrow any of my CDs, but I shared my love for Joshua with this boy, and bought him the second album for his birthday. When things didn't work out (relationships don't last long when you're fourteen), I was perfectly content sitting in my bedroom writing one of my millions of stories and listening to 'No Envy, No Fear'. I remember the first time I heard the original version of 'I'd Rather Be With You' (the song he seems to be most famous for nowadays), and thinking that this song could change my life. The rare and simple beauty that was the song 'Sky' roused me from a state of emotional sleep. One of my friends wrote lyrics from 'Friend Like You' in my diary one day, and I couldn't stop smiling.

If you had three, you'd give me two; there ain't no other friend like you.

The album 'Simple Times' came out in the UK almost two years after I ordered it online, and before long Joshua announced tour dates in the Spring of 2010. I jumped up and down with excitement and joy, and ordered two tickets without hesitation. I went to see him on a Tuesday night in Brighton with my then-boyfriend, and it was one of the most magical nights of my life. Bless my boyfriend, he spent the week leading up to the gig listening to only Radin songs and putting up with my fangirl squeals and excited chatter. Standing at the front of the crowd at the Concorde 2 club below Brighton Pier, looking up at my true love in his ragged white T-shirt and black jeans, hearing the songs I loved most in the world is not something I am likely to forget in this lifetime. Joshua was the epitome of chill throughout the gig, stopping between songs to have a cheeky whisky and chat to the crowd in that luscious deep voice of his about his songs and his love for the UK, and thanking the crowd for "just listening".

'Unlike many artists, Radin has always talked to his audiences and so the idea of having a pointed forum to do that is a liberating idea. “I like that kind of thing because, I don’t know how people do the whole Lady Gaga or Ziggy Stardust thing. I don’t get how people become a character on stage. It’s just too much work for me — trying to keep up a veil of a character,” Radin said. “People ask me questions on stage all of the time, and I love having that conversation with people and breaking down that fourth wall.”' -
There was also a heart-stopping moment that night when he and I locked eyes and he smiled at me...

Only the heartaches have given me sight.

My Dad went on a business trip to New York in late 2010, and brought back a surprise for me: Joshua's third album, 'The Rock And The Tide', not due to be released in the UK until August 1st 2011 (as fate would have it, my birthday). I was late to college that day because I was importing the album into my iTunes library immediately. I was listening to it non-stop for months, and also hopefully anticipating the release of 2011 UK tour dates. Sure enough, in October 2011 I was on my way to Shepherd's Bush, London, to see him once again. Before the show he tweeted to ask if anyone had any requests for him to play; I requested an unreleased favourite of mine, 'Lovely Tonight', a song that gives me hope and reminds me of love lost, adding "btw, I love you" onto the end of my tweet. I received an email minutes later to let me know that Joshua Radin was following me on Twitter. I told myself to keep calm, then, after about a minute, started squealing.

Sun shines in the eyes of those who know how to leave the past behind.

At his gig in Shepherd's Bush, he announced that he was currently working on a new album (cue screams), a more acoustic-orientated record, of course personally penned like all of his music. All I have heard of it thus far is the song 'Where You Belong'; already I am in love again. And now I am, obviously, eagerly awaiting the release of the album and 2012 UK tour dates. So far he has confirmed US dates and venues, and France, Spain and Italy. Every day I am refreshing online music events pages, checking my emails and his Twitter page (I also need to find someone to come with me to see him live this year, so let me know).

All this time I've been following life to the letter but, that ain't the way to go.

When I come back to my hometown for weekends or for the holidays, I have a ritual of listening to 'I Missed You' on the train. This happy song makes me think of home and all the people I have missed the most; recently, with my love for uni growing more day by day, I have started listening to the song on the way back from my hometown.

I'm coming home, just to let you know... That I missed you.

Two items at the top of my Bucket List are "see Joshua Radin live more than five times", and "meet Joshua Radin". I have no idea what I'd say to Joshua if I were to meet him, I'd probably ramble away about how he is my dream and how his music has changed my life for the better... Surely he's used to that by now. I'd love nothing more than to just sit at the bar and drink whiskey with Joshua Radin, talking about love, travelling the world, old-school music and Ohio.

Thank you, Joshua. I'll see you soon. x

Friday, 4 May 2012

I'm only me when I'm with you.

I would like to introduce you all to the many different versions of myself, all of whom present themselves typically over the course of one week depending on social circumstances and environments.

For example, my most famous alter-ego is known as Drunk Gracie. I've been told that Drunk Gracie is a lot of fun; she dances freely and almost sensually, talks nonsense, kisses everyone on the cheek, shares all kinds of intimate information and tells personal stories. She will never "get with" anyone at the club, however. You can find her either in her friends' kitchen, outside with the smokers, staggering along the road, in a club or bar, or most likely in her bedroom at the end of the night (snuggled up, eating Dominos pizza and watching Easy A). When you first meet her she will be drinking only her drink of choice, usually some form of cheap coconut rum or whiskey, then as the night progresses you will see her ordering shots for everyone and minesweeping other people's drinks. She likes to dance, and has a unique style of dancing which involves ducking her head, wiggling her hips and sipping her drink through a straw.

Another alternate version of myself is Sleepy Gracie. She also enjoys talking nonsense and sharing intimate information and telling personal stories, however she is not to be confused with Drunk Gracie. Where Drunk Gracie will dance and sing all night long, full of boundless energy until the inevitable crash, Sleepy Gracie will drag out her very limited energy for as long as she possibly can before giving in to the embrace of her bed. You can call her in the middle of the night for a serious talk, or if you're lucky enough to be invited into her bed, you can ask her anything and be guaranteed a truthful and brutally honest answer. This is a very rare opportunity: use it wisely. Sleepy Gracie will also never argue about what programme you want to watch on TV, steal any of your food, or stop you from borrowing her laptop. She's good-natured and obliging. Nothing like boring wide-awake Grace.

One of my favourite "Me's" is Writing Mode Grace: note that she is not a Gracie, she is a serious i-less Grace. When Grace gets into her Writing Mode, do not cross her path. Not because she is scary or vicious in any way, rather should you bother her during such a crucial time, you impose the danger of her losing track of her thoughts or the perfectly-crafted sentence she had formed in her head. Grace attaches herself to her desk and writes until her mind runs dry. Only once or twice has she emerged from her bedroom when in Writing Mode; once to retrieve her laundry and so locked-in to her writing that she put herself on autopilot and ended up with wrinkled clothes strewn all over her bedroom floor. Writing Mode Grace enjoys a desk drawer fully stocked with chocolate, biscuits and Pringles, as well as a cup of tea or carton of Innocent Smoothie. Compliment her writing and she will love you forever.

My least favourite "Me" is Girly Gracie. As much as I try to resist and fight her, she will occasionally appear seemingly out of nowhere and complicate the simplest of things with her super-dangerous girly-feeling powers. Girly Gracie cannot comprehend a world without romance and emotional intimacy. She lives off those moments in films when the girl is chased through the airport or and kissed dramatically in front of a sky of fireworks by her beautiful leading man. She goes weak at the knees at every compliment, and spends her nights whispering romantic ideals into Cool Grace's (see below) ear after she turns the lights off and climbs into bed. Sex is directly linked with feelings. She enjoys painting her nails, eating ice cream, buying earrings, and doodling hearts in her notebook. She believes in soulmates, fate and destiny. She listens to Taylor Swift and shamelessly fangirls over The Script.

Cool Grace is everything I want to be. She spends at least two days a week walking into town with friends to buy alcohol and get one or two new piercings. She has purple hair, eight piercings and may someday get a tattoo. Her best friend is buying her an Obey snapback for her birthday. She wakes up after 1pm every day, sits around in her underwear while on her laptop for hours, and cooks a beastly veggie chilli. She believes in soulmates, fate and destiny. She is constantly at war with Girly Gracie. She doesn't care about romance or emotional intimacy, she just wants a gorgeous boy in her bed a few nights a week. She wants to be the casual, chilled out and laid-back girl that all guys want to be with; no complications and no messy feelings involved. And bless her, she tries her best.

Of course there are many more of these alternate Grace's; I've barely touched on Angry/Sad/Depressed Grace, Pushover Grace, Bedroom Gracie, Pessimist Grace, or Hometown Grace, but they are versions of myself that I am even less proud of than Girly Gracie. The above people are the ones most commonly known and whom I'd want you to meet.

The most dangerous yet rewarding combination is Drunk Gracie and Sleepy Gracie; when those two join forces, you have to be very careful what you say - because she sure as hell won't be.

I can also change and shift between these individual characters depending on who I am with. Those I am closest to will know all of the above mentioned all too well, and a select few get a unique mix of these and other versions of myself specifically crafted and used when I am with that one person. Sadly, some people can only ever spend time with Default Grace. I won't even go into detail with her, she's too boring.
© Almost Amazing Grace.. Design by Fearne.