I Am Romantically Hopeless

I mentioned to a friend this morning that I’d never gone on a proper date with anyone and that if I ever do, I wouldn’t know what to do. When I reflected on this a few hours later, I couldn’t help laughing because I realised something: when it comes to “romance” of any sort, I am utterly and completely hopeless at it.

All of the ideas of romance, I’ve got from books or the occasional film, when I go out of my prehistoric habitat to watch one. Any experiences I’ve had have usually been me accidentally realising I have feelings for someone, getting confused (and not in the adorable way), attempting to ignore them and then situations happening which I never expected. My first kiss happened when one of my friends was about to leave and I got panicked about saying goodbye; I asked someone to be my girlfriend and managed to sound like a fool whilst doing it.
I don’t think I’ve ever expressly shown affection to anyone in public, as my relationships have either been long-distance, not a relationship or the opportunity never presented itself. I don’t know what it’s like to feel comfortable in public with someone who I have feelings for, in the sense where I can express those feelings openly (even with words). If you put me in that kind of situation, I’d probably… Wail and run away.

As I’ve said, I’ve never been on a date. How do you even go on a date? Do you just ask someone, or what? I’ve never had the experience of trying to pick clothes for myself to wear, firstly because I’m awful with fashion but secondly because it’s never seemed to matter before. It’s rare that I meet someone casually who I have feelings for: I’ve never been confident enough to suggest going out by myself with anyone.

It’s not like “romance” should be built up to this huge thing. Dates, traditional things like flowers and hearts and cuteness, aren’t the be all and end all of “love” because they’re materialistic and can just be put down to gestures. However, I’m rubbish with emotions too. I get them wrong, get awkward, don’t know how to handle them and end up wildly screeching in a room by myself instead of talking to people about them. Oops.

My approach to my internal feelings is even weirder than my approach to the people I have feelings for. Does that even make sense? What I do is I repress them hugely, realise I’ve been doing that and instead of being rational about it, I make intense jokes about the whole thing and go into “crisis mode”. Afterwards, of course, I realise that I was a moron. For that time, though, I attempt to convince myself that they would never “like me back”, cringe at the seemingly childish words, cringe at myself for even possessing a heart and then take to Twitter to scream about my feelings to try and distract myself. It invariably fails.

When I’m sure about my feelings, I do one of three things. Either I tell the person, I tell everyone but the person or I try and tell the person and then backpedal, screaming. The first one hasn’t happened for about 40000 years, the second happens far too often and the third happened quite recently (being in the last 6 months). Anything else has happened accidentally which means that when feelings do crop up, I’m at a loss. Imagine me holding my hands up in surrender with a terrified look on my face and you should be able to understand.

Why am I saying this? To put it simply, because I find it hilarious. It does bother me occasionally, in that I want to express myself and not have any nasty consequences (like, you know, destruction of friendships and my heart burning in a fiery pit). To cope with it, I laugh about it because I know it’s true that I’m awful with this kind of thing.

The worst thing is that I’m a huge romantic at heart but externally, I become awkward and don’t act like it. I used to get “crushes” far too easily but now, when they do appear, they’re like a demon and I’ve never been a demon-slayer. As soon as I realised I actually like the concept of romance and of people caring about me, I kind of imploded.

How are you with romance? If you don’t experience romantic feelings, do you like reading about them – or what do you think? Let me know!

From Elm 🙂

The Bloggers’ Fanfiction

This is potentially the worst thing I have ever written and I’m laughing so hard that I can’t breathe because this is so bad. It has no plot, is only 1000 words, and completely takes the piss out of both myself and everyone else.

I present to you…

The Bloggers’ Fanfiction
I don’t know if this has been done before, and I’m nowhere near well known enough to have fanfiction written about me like really famous Youtubers are, so I thought I’d write one myself. Of course, this is a joke and shouldn’t be taken to heart; all these people are my friends and I love them.

People involved in this excuse for writing:

Sav

Abby

Elly

L

Ruth

Selfie

Fibit

Sav hated Christmas.

Of course, everybody who knew him also knew that he hated the overdone and altogether irritating holiday. It wasn’t a secret, but as he stared fixedly at the monstrosity of tinsel and baubles that adorned the shop window, he affirmed very clearly in his mind that he did, in fact, hate it all. It wasn’t as if he even celebrated it, so having to look at all of the decorations made his head pound in a painful rhythm.

Really, Christmas had already passed, and so what was the point in having the decorations up? Sighing explosively, he gave one last glare to the offending window, turned, and hurried down the street. His walking pace was fast, not least because he was already 10 minutes late to the very important – at least to him – meeting he had today. Who could blame him when he was so occupied with thinking about said meeting?

The cold nipped at his cheeks, wind blowing mournfully down the empty road. It had taken him two hours to get to this point, as he had jumped on various trains and busses, his heart beating in anticipation – even more than it had been before. He supposed, though, that it wasn’t as far as some of the other people he would be meeting had had to travel.

Unlike last time, the plan had gone off without a hitch. Having 8 of them, rather than 4, had most likely helped with that: L had planned meticulously for every eventuality, whilst Elm had called him about 4 times just to check that he was still coming; Fibit would probably turn up, because he hadn’t been informed otherwise yet. He grinned then, remembering their last meeting: though it was the summer before, almost 1 and a half years ago, it felt like it was yesterday.

This one would be more special to him, he reflected as he turned left into a slightly busier road. Cars roared their insufferable song far ahead, hidden by buildings and people, but they didn’t interrupt his thoughts. Yes, this had been planned for a long time, involving 3 plane tickets, careful manipulation by everyone to make sure it could go ahead, and too many Skype calls to count.

As he approached the train station where he was meeting Abby, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Ignoring it, he crossed the road, finally coming into the station proper which echoed with the sound of a previous announcement, babies screeching, and footsteps.

She stood there, to the side, a grin breaking over her features as she saw him. Turning, they ran towards each other, hugging for what seemed like forever. He had been waiting for this, for almost a year, and he took in her expression with something close to wonder. He wanted to cry out of happiness, but being surrounded by people made that seem a bad idea. She was just a little shorter than him, making her the perfect height to hug, but eventually he let her go for the sake of time.

“Hi,” they both said, their mouths then curving into identical smiles. Abby had been in England for two days already, her and her family seeing the incredibly boring sights of London and the surrounding area. It was a blessing for them both that she managed to escape, telling her parents that she was going to a concert instead of meeting up with bloggers.

“It’s so great to see you,” Sav smiled happily, taking her hand and not seeming to care that his phone was constantly vibrating in his pocket. They walked out of the station, the freezing cold smashing into them. “English weather’s shit,” Sav grumbled, swinging their conjoined hands. “Shall we go and find the others?”

“Where are they?” Abby asked, turning towards Sav as they stopped in the middle of the pavement. “Did they say where they were going to be, or…”

“Well, they’re-”

His question was answered when they heard exasperated yelling coming from the next street. It was at such a high volume that even passersby stopped to stare. With that, Sav took Abby’s hand again – both of them were dressed in black, and were entirely comfortable around each other. Despite only having met once before, their friendship was stronger than any he had experienced, late night skype calls and inside jokes making him smile.

“Well how the BLOODY hell should I know where they are?” came the shout that grew progressively louder as they walked towards it. “I’m not superhuman, and even if I was, I’d have a shitty superpower like the ability to walk through walls or something!”

“Hey hey, calm down – Elm, stop rubbing your hands together – because we’re all here, and they can’t be far.” If Sav wasn’t mistaken, that was Fibit’s voice, something that was confirmed when Abby’s face lit up beside him. So, he had arrived.

“Sup bitches,” Sav called as he rounded the bend in the road, Abby moving to stand slightly ahead of him. She choked back laughter as they were met with 6 faces of incredulity.

“Where have you been?” He couldn’t take Elm seriously, the annoyance in her tone ruined by the fact that she was smiling, that her small body was shaking with suppressed laughter and because she was shoving L out of the way. She stepped forward uncertainly, almost rushing into Abby before they hugged. “Oh my god Abby!” Elm squeaked, and then moved to embrace Sav.

Fibit, Selfie, Ruth, L and Elly acted similarly, L doing a very good impression of a chicken, laughing when Elly and Elm began screaming as they realised that yes, they were next to each other and that this was actually happening. Abby stayed next to Sav, both of them integrating seamlessly into the group despite their late arrival.

“Okay, now we’re all here!” L shouted, clapping his hands. Elm closed her eyes, elbowing Fibit as they both tried to hold back their guffaws. Elly smiled at L, and though he couldn’t see it, he turned towards her and touched her hand quickly.

“Erm anyway,” Fibit said, taking charge of the conversation. “We never really said what we were going to do…”

“Who cares?” Selfie laughed, letting Elm take her arm. “Let’s just go with it. YOLO, you know?”

It was because of Selfie’s insistence that they just wing it that they all found themselves sitting, precariously, on a park bench. Elm, being the rebel that she was, sat on the ground with Ruth, occasionally mumbling “forever alone,” eventually turning to face the others. Sav glanced at her, confused as to why exactly she was on the ground, but didn’t question it. Looking over to L, he saw him leaning on Elly whilst cackling, and refused to ask either.

They had walked down the streets in what looked like a parade of 8, Sav and Abby leading as Selfie and Elm followed. The rest of them were disorganised, occasionally either getting lost or pushing each other into buildings.

The park echoed with their shouting and general madness, Elm and Ruth ganging up on both L and Fibit in what ended with a war of innuendos. Sav sat bolt upright, glaring.

“Excuse me, but I think I’m the king of innuendos here,” he grumbled as Abby nodded in agreement. “You can’t stop me from releasing it.”

Elm paused, staring in his general direction with something akin to horror. “Ruth, help; he’s coming to get us!”

L dived onto the ground next to Elm, almost knocking Elly off the bench. Apologising, he grabbed Elm’s arm. “I’ll protect you! I mean Elly’s cooler than you but I’ll still save you from Sav.” The only thing that Elm could respond with were howls of laughter as she wiped tears from her eyes.

After a few more minutes of confusing chatter, Sav felt wholly relaxed. Smiling at Abby, he basked in the sound of Selfie and Fibit arguing about Physics, L and Ruth scream-singing and Elm and Elly laughing for no apparent reason. There would only be one thing that would improve it for him.

“Look, can someone please explain to me what soldier means?”

Well, Sav thought. Elm just ruined the mood.

Don’t even ask…. I came up with this idea a while ago, but only started writing it today. I blame it on tiredness and a lack of creativity. If you’d like to see more plot-less and horrific fanfiction from me, let me know!

From a disgusted and embarrassed Elm 🙂

Humiliating Myself – Writings of a Younger Elm, Number 1

Before I start, just a reminder that You’ve got a month to submit your nominations for the Blogger Awards. Thanks to everyone who’s already submitted, and remember – don’t feel pressured, and whether you get nominated or not, your blog is still wonderful. If you’ve got any questions about the awards, then let me know!

When I was younger – and by that I mean aged 11-13 – I thought that I was a really talented writer. (Actually, I thought I was shit, but I acted as if I was amazing).

I knew that I’d wrifften cringy ‘stories’ in order to show off my tremendous power of storytelling, but I’d deleted all of them off my computer so that I didn’t have to look over them. Of course, back then, I thought that I’d be proud of them when I was older, that I’d read them again and think “Hmm, not bad!” Oh, how wrong I was.

Unfortunately, I neglected to delete the emails that I sent to people, with those stories on. Because yes: I sent those stories to everyone I could think of, because y’know, I thought that I’d let them read it. Not realising that they were seriously awful, I sent derisive comments of “Hahaha this is rubbish but hope you enjoy!” with the secret hope that it was actually great. It wasn’t.

For your enjoyment and my absolute embarrassment, I’ve unearthd possibly the worst thing I ever wrote. Until I found it again whilst trawling through old emails, I forgot that I even wrote it. When I was looking for another awful thing I’d written to show you, I found this, and it far outstripped any other in terms of god-awful ‘plot’. I couldn’t breathe at one point because I was laughing so hard, screeching in disgust. You’ll see why.

In a similar fashion to Michelle and L I’m going to be commentating on this because I CANNOT keep my mouth shut when it comes to this terrible thing. All credit goes to those two for inspiring me to do this (WHY!) and you should check out their posts.

Imagine a girl screaming, hands over her face and peeking out occasionally to stare in horror whilst you read this. I was 12. You’d think I had some semblance of what made a good plot: L, if you thought yours were bad, be prepared to laugh at me. Oh god.

Chapter 1: Humiliation

I stepped into the chilled classroom, looking out onto a sea of faces. Why was starting a new school so hard? Hey, this sounds like every single terrible tween book ever. I flicked my jet-black hair out of my face, trying hopelessly to get a better view of the sickening students around me That’s so prejudiced against them!. I hate my thick, horrible hair Is it also called lovely by many people, but you don’t believe them, because same. In addition, I am petite and thin. And I despise it, loathe it WHAT! So many people would be happy with that and I’m thin too so I get it but thank god I never published this because that’s not a good example for other people. My thoughts were shattered by the person standing, primly next to me. “I am proud to announce the new arrival of your new classmate that makes no sense, 8c . This is Sarah Dorit.” Mrs Dichon, the deputy headmistress of Loodon Secondary school inventive looked at me pointedly.

I started. Was I meant to speak? No, not really. “Um.. I.. Hello,” I gabbled, staring round Gabbled? Are you a goose?. Everyone was scrutinizing me, taking in every detail. Why? Had I said something wrong? Had I? No, they’re just dicks. The spacious classroom grew deathly silent, you could have heard a pin drop Cliché. A hush, so appressing that the light plaster-covered walls closed in on me, squeezing every hope I had out. Forcing every happy memory away, not that there had been any to start with. My past was so… No, not now. Don’t think about it, Sarah. FUCKING CLASSIC OH REALLY! I think I was trying to be mysterious by the whole ‘dark past’ but that is so so awful I can’t

Then I knew. A few chuckles spread round the room. They hit me like sharp knife-blades, and the laughing intensified Rude. My cheeks flushed bright scarlet.

“Now, now! How dare you be so rude to Sarah!” scolded Mrs Dichon You tell them! The woman in question had tiny, pig-like eyes with a wrinkled round face. She wore smart clothes, but that made her look like an utter fool and she was Wait WHAT? She was being nice to you!. I hated her already. I was in year 8, not in year 2 Maybe she’s just trying to be kind! I could actually walk by myself, thank you very much. Despite this, she knew about my past Which you skillfully avoid talking about. Why did she have to know? Because she is in a position of authority within the school. Oh mum, if you… NO! Please don’t think about it Apparently I was trying to emulate her mind but that is such sloppy writing.

“Ha ha ha! She looks so stupid! Childish! Yuck! What the FUCK was that? Are you 4? BET you don’t have a boyfriend! Why should that matter? Faaaaaiiiiiiil!” A tall girl in plaits glared at me. She was pretty, but in a dangerous way. She was thin, but in a disgusting way That is such a horrible thing to say; having any type of body shape is okay!. She was ugly, twisted, frightful inside. I hated her You seem to hate many people. In the few seconds that I’d known her, she was my worst enemy. What, because of those wonderfully imaginative insults she threw at you? She looked about 15, even though she was only approximately 13. She looked so cool, but in a popular, nasty way Being popular is NOT a bad thing STOP pushing your values onto this character!. Well she’d know. She would know What. Her glaring, brown eyes would know. Her thin, furious lips would know. Even her stupid bracelets would know. Bracelets are sentient beings, everyone

I came out of my daydream by the hushed voice of the school teacher. “Katie, that is enough! That unacceptable behaviour is disgusting! Get out of my classroom. At least someone’s sticking up for her Sarah, you may sit over there, next to Jack.” Finally, I had someone on my side. Almost. She’d not spoken yet, and her voice was quiet and soft. She had lovely, deep blue eyes, deeper than mine CUTE!. She was a plump, short woman, but what did that matter? It mattered what was on the inside Finally, you realise!

Nevertheless, ignoring the deputy headmistress’s wave, I stumped blearily over to my seat. Eyes burned hatred and scorn into me from every direction, seeking my dark past out I’m sorry but is it just me that is wondering why everyone hates her? Yeah because she’s such a bad character. Why did everything link back to that? It doesn’t I sighed. Nothing could stop these memories. Absolutely nothing.

I turned to the boy next to me, expecting burning eyes, jeers and anger. But to my shock, even to my great relief, he was smiling at me What a lad. As the class chatter resumed itself, Jack finally spoke. His voice was low, quiet Like every single stereotypical young adult love interest. As i expected. With a tall figure and broad shoulders, he would I suppose have a deep voice GREAT logic!. His eyes were the same colour as mine, but his hair was dark brown. He had beautiful skin, white and pearly, like his teeth WHY the hell are you looking at his teeth?!. What surprised me was what he told me: “Sarah, they’re horrible. Don’t pay any attention to them. They’re stupid, ignorant. I know what happened.” C’mon Jack! What makes you any different?

“How?” I choked back tears. “How do you know about—` Are you fucking kidding me? Our conversation was rudely interrupted by Katie, storming up to me. Oooohh dramaaa

“I need to talk to you about something, Sarah. Get your lazy butt over here now.” Aaah, i’m sooo scared, she said the word butt she’s so intimidating! I meekly did as I was told, wishing no, no, no. Katie continued: “Your You’re grammar taking my Jack away from me. He loves me, only me. Don’t take him away ……. I’ll… I’ll… Hate you forever, and get my revenge. I swear I will.” Okay can I just – WHAT?! Sarah knew Jack for all of 5 minutes, so this random girl comes up to her – oh sorry her ‘worst enemy’ and thinks she’s stealing him away. Oh yeah, and Jack loves her. What is this, a soap opera? Ooohh nooo, hating her forever is SUCH a bad punishment. SO threatening.

I went, subdued, back to my table. I worked with Jack all of the English lesson, but I couldn’t bear to speak with him. Katie would get her revenge, even if I didn’t “steal” Jack. You don’t even know each other! The silence between us grew bigger and deeper, until the bell rang.
“Sarah, I need to talk with you.” Jack’s words were sharp, and I instantly feared the worst. YOU LITERALLY HAVE BEEN THERE FOR ONE LESSON! Hesitantly, I faced him. He waited until the gaggle of giggling girls and the bunch of babbling boys cleared the area. Was I trying to use alliteration? That’s like something a 9-year-old would write to show that they could. He took a breath. “Sarah, I know what Katie said to you. I heard every word. No shit, because they were right by you. If she even dares to touch you,” Jack clenched his fists, anger pulsing through his body BIT of an extreme reaction; even if you’re a lovely person and saw someone being picked on, not many people would instantly be that protective “I will do something I’ll regret.”
“B-but Jack,” I stammered, “Y-you hardly know me.” Precisely!
“I don’t care,” I was informed by Jack. “From what I know about you already, I don’t care. Please rely on me, Sarah.” In a typical bad YA novel – I’ve read many to find the good ones, of which there are many – this conversation usually happens after the love interest saves the girl’s life or has her trust broken, not after one hour of meeting each other
He touched my hand then, for a split second Keep it PG bloody hell. I turned tail and bolted like a hunted animal out of the classroom. Hunted by everyone.

I actually can’t. I am half-cringing and half-raging in irritation at these under-developed, over-dramatic characters. Let’s just leave it at that…

I never wrote any more of that story, and if I did, I didn’t send it to anyone. That could be a good thing.

I think that Sarah and Katie should get together by resolving their differences. Better yet, have no romance at all.

I’m just going to cry in embarrassment in a corner.

Did you like my commentary? Do you think I should have it in the next extract of story, or does it interrupt the flow?

From Elm 🙂

Little Elm was the Worst Child Ever

I am so incredibly glad that none of you who read this blog – save for one person – knew me when I was little. If you did… You’d be shocked at the change.

Last night, I stayed over at my friend Poppy’s house – it wasn’t planned, because I was at the party of a family friend who I really dislike which was hosted at Poppy’s and I fell asleep. This morning, whilst feeling absolutely gross because I had no change of clothes and no toothbrush, Poppy started talking about how I was when I was a kid.

Oh, God. Because Poppy’s known me for all of her life (she’s one year younger than me), she remembers some pretty horrendous stuff. Put it this way, I wouldn’t be associated with my younger self if I could help it.

Sadly, I can’t, so what I try and do is point out how truly fucked up I was, JUST to make it clear to you that I have changed, I am a completely different person… Or I bloody hope I am.

Even though I WILL regret doing this, I’m going to share with you a list of shit that I did, or how I acted, when I was… Below the age of 10. After that, I got more bearable, though I only started acting in the way I act now a year and a half ago. As in, being kind to people, trying not to argue, helping people etc.

Oh dear what am I doing? This is HORRIFIC!

1. When I was in year 3, so when I was 7, my friend Ivy offended me somehow. I was a violent child back then, so I shoved her, but I couldn’t see the stinging nettles that she then fell into. I’m SO sorry about that!

2. There’s a video of 8-year-old me singing Miracles, up on youtube, in Poppy and Rose’s bathroom. I sounded like a fly and it was the worst thing I’ve ever heard.

3. Up to when I was 5, when I got pissed off, I dived into the doorway between the kitchen and living room (there isn’t an actual door there). I then proceeded to kick my legs and shriek, and when people ignored me, I cried insanely. I mean I was 5 when that stopped – even if my sister says it was later, but that’s bullshit.

4. All throughout my childhood, I used to go to Poppy and Rose’s, pretty much every weekend. I slept over, and woke up at 6 o’clock in the bloody morning. Most often, I woke Poppy up in the process, and we played this game where we created an imaginary world. I was hyperactive and completely weird, so I acted as the characters in that world OH GOD THIS IS MORTIFYING. Turns out that Poppy was just pretending to be playing, and she was actually trying to sleep because 6-year-old Elm WOULD NOT leave her alone. I even pissed off their mother on several occasions by going downstairs, or talking too loudly. Aaaahhh!!

5. This is the worst one by far. Quick family history: my mum comes from a country in Asia, and our extremely distant relatives were part of a tribe (I don’t know how to spell the name). So… I must have been 8 at this point, or 9, and I decided to try and act as if I was part of it because I thought it was cool or it made me interesting?! Now I think on it, it was kind of racist… WOW. I spoke in this screwed up language that I made up, and tried to… CURSE Poppy and Rose’s brother, or even those two when I got pissed off with them. I sat on the stairs and mumbled in this strange language and when Poppy brought it up this morning, I started yelling “OHMYGOD stop we do not talk about that ever!” because I’m sorry, but what kind of kid pretends that they are part of a tribe which they know nothing about?

6. When I was 6, so when I was in year 2, this girl who I didn’t really like fell over. At that time, I was kind of neutral towards her because she didn’t treat me like I was stupid yet, but when she fell over I laughed. I LAUGHED. Yes, I think it was because I didn’t know what else to do, but still! I feel so bad now.

7. Until I was 9, I had no real technology: no computer, no phone, no Nintendo or whatever, so I used to listen to CDs. I sat in my little chair in the kitchen (which we still have) and listened to stories, which is most likely why I went into secondary school with a horrifyingly pretentious vocabulary. The embarrassing part is that I used to sometimes listen to it when my FRIENDS were round, which is so antisocial and I feel very bad for them now.

8. I had a friend in primary school called Harrison. We always used to hold hands, because that’s how people guided me when I was 8. We were walking down to Church (because our school was a Church of England school, says the Atheist) and one of the teaching assistants says, “Elm, should you really be holding Harrison’s hand? People might think you were boyfriend and girlfriend!” I screamed so loudly that people probably stared at me, dropped his hand and TRIED to run away. And failed.

9. In year 6, I took it upon myself to think that I fancied all the boys. I had a crush every week, except it wasn’t because I was 10. One day, our teachers sat us down in a circle and said they needed to talk about something. That something was “fancying”, and how we were a bit too young to be thinking about that. Narcissistically, I thought they were talking about me so I got terrified. Obviously they weren’t, but still; I was under the impression that I had crushes on all of these guys. Awww!

I think I’ve gone so red that I look like a traffic light. I actually can’t believe I did all that stuff.

I think I’m going to sob in a corner. There are more stories, but I can’t think of them off the top of my head.

Do you have any really weird things you did as a child? Please tell me I’m not alone!

From Elm 🙂