The Escape Hatch

Now this might appear as a pretty metaphor for never giving yourself fully up for a relationship, but this title is more literal. Hasn't everyone had a time where they have made someone leave their house undetected by others also occupying said house?

I have had this occur twice off the top of my head. The first a few years back when I was embarrassed about still letting an ex come around, so I made him get out the window in order to avoid a lecture from my flatmates. I guess it also made things a bit exciting, but at the same time it brought it home that I shouldn't be having someone over who I was trying to hide from everyone. He fully embraced the idea of getting out the window to avoid looking like the asshole ex which he was. Creep.

The second time involved an entirely inappropriate male who I had invited around for a movie because I was home alone and scared for the night. I flicked out that invite because I knew the answer would come fast, and come affirmative. Again, shouldn't invite someone over when I would not had flatmates been home...however surely I am allowed a couple of free passes now I am back in the once familiar single world?

The second emergency evacuation went a little like this:
We are merrily watching a DVD making semi interesting chit-chat. I hear a key scrape a lock outside. I hear a door open. I freeze. I hiss "You have to GO" to male. He looks at me incredulously and stays put. I say "SERIOUSLY!" I rush him to the back door and struggle with the bolt. I push him outside into the dark and say "wait here and I will see who it is". Hello flatmate, goodbye male outside door. Somehow, male gets to his car and leaves with flatmate being none the wiser. Finish watching DVD with flatmate.

See a problem here? Must return DVD's belonging to male at some point...

Transference

Having had quite a shock- see post below, I think it is important not to dwell on such a person who would cause such a nightmare. Hence, I have been spending some time with someone else.

So soon? You may well ask. It is a simple concept of transferring ones feelings to someone else in order not to have any bad/mad/sad feelings for the other person. Anyway, while I was with THE EX I met Mark* and we became unlikely friends due to the fact I had a boyfriend. Now I don't have said boyfriend.

The list below in reality should be the norm, but I was not treated as such by THE EX. But, Mark has manners. In fact, with Mark it is easy.

* He texts me just to say good morning and hopes that I have a nice day.

* After we met he wished me good luck for an exam, even though it was a drunken night where we never may have seen each other again.

* He will change plans just to spend time with me.

* He lives out of town but will not hesitate to drive in, even when he has to wake up at 5.30am and he knows he will get home late.

* He drives a car which almost could be considered 'bogan' with all its bells and whistles, but will let me drive it too.

* He doesn't take me too seriously and can joke around without getting angry.

* He actually wants to take me out for dinner somewhere nice and will enjoy it too.


I spent last night with Mark. We drove out of town and ended up on a jetty jutting out into the sea, looking at the stars. It felt like we were somewhere else, and it was just what I wanted. I have realised now that life is too short to put up with bad behaviour and 'rocky' patches. If it's not working, it's not working. Not every combination of people will go the distance, and there is no point in flogging a dead horse, which it how my own relationship began to appear. When it is surprising that things are going well, as opposed to a normality, it is pretty damn clear you should get out, and get out fast. It may sound like things will not end well for Mark, but to tell you the truth I have fun with Mark and fun is just what I need right now. Mark is someone who I will stay friends with after we stop hanging out in the context of something more, which is how it should be.

I could become cynical about the male species, or enjoy the company of one more deserving. You do the math.

S

Life as I know it

So...back to being 'sad in the city'.

So what happened to the RELATIONSHIP?
It was a bumpy ride that I didn't have my seatbelt on for.

We drove into the biggest, and final pothole 2 nights ago. Things were finally going well, I'd just had my graduation which he had helped me get ready for and had attended the family dinner and was fantastic (apart from not thanking my dad for dinner, which is a big thing for me. Manners maketh the man and all that). Anyway, I was going to meet his parents at a family BBQ 2 days ago. Unfortunately, I had my own family dinner to attend with several relatives i had not seen for a long time, and work earlier. Busy. So low and behold I could not make it to his family meet and greet because work ran late and I was late for my dinner as it was. Obviously I kept in touch regarding this change of events and I had warned him prior that I may have to come a bit later after my dinner. Anyway, after saying sorry but I would have to go straight to my dinner, I receive a message back from him an hour later saying how embarrassed and let down he was by me. Confused? I was too. Seems rational to be understanding considering I was forthcoming with everything and it was not a blow off in the least. The most pathetic turn of events? Without a doubt. Anyway, after some confused texting back he rang and was still angry so naturally there was nothing else to do but hang up on him.

Later that night whilst having a wine and chocolate with a friend I get a call from him saying he 'may' have overreacted. You think?! Anyway, he said he would come round and was going to get a taxi as he had been drinking. He then texted and asked whether I would pick him up. Hell no! So he arrives dutifully in a taxi. Despite having apologized more or less on the phone he storms in on his high horse determined that I had blown him off. A large argument ensues where he threatens to walk out but stops at the door. It was humorous in a petty way so I laughed and we started to make up. Then I made a comment about his heinous face when he knows he has done something wrong. In a joking/make light of the situation way of course. He lost it. Started putting his clothes back on shouting angrily at me that you don't call your boyfriend heinous blah blah. I roll my eyes and say we really don't need to do this (again). So I stand up and grab his jeans and tell him not to be so silly and I was joking. He shoves me hard so I sit back on the bed and proceeds to rip the jeans out of my arms giving me a nasty scratch/bruise on my arm. Yells he is 'done' and that I was just trying to 'make him feel bad' by making a fuss about my arm. He then storms out leaving all the doors in the house open. This being 2am.

To top it off? I never heard an apology or any word afterwards. Oh, except for a 1.30am text the next night saying "Do you miss me?" WHAT. A. JERK.

I keep picking the wrong men. I just hope this is the last 'learning curve' I have because this is getting freaking ridiculous and I have a scratch on my arm to show for my troubles.

Love S (S for single)

The Weekend Getaway aka Minibreak

STEPS FOR A SUCCESSFUL NIGHT AWAY WITH YOUR MAN:

1. Romantic dinner at expensive restaurant
2. Stroll by the waterfront looking at beautiful scenery
3. Quality time curled up on couch with nice wine

THE REALITY:

Elbows on the table, loud embarrassing comments, and spilling a vast amount of candle wax on the table...all do not appear conducive to a romantic dinner at a lovely restaurant. None of the above applying to my own behaviour! Anyhow, as he was playing with the wax on the tablecloth in order to get it off (after the loud and obnoxious comment how "crap" the music was) I was wondering how best to cope with the situation at hand. Whether to a) get a bottle of wine STAT and proceed to drink it fast in its entirety in order to transcend my embarrassment, b) run as fast as possible out the door leaving the uncivilized male at the table, or c) suck it up and try make the best of a bad bad circumstance.

Looking back, a) looks most desirable, but me not being one to shy away from a challenge went with option c). The meal was lovely, and I was not in the mood for dessert so before I went to the bathroom I politely requested to be ordered a coffee. Upon return I discover it was a coffee to-go and we were leaving. An enjoyable dinner? No. Apparently it was in order to achieve said stroll by the waterfront. So number 2 gets a tick. And number 3? Well, curled up on the couch with wine check. Watching Jurassic Park? Not romantic.

Basic wining and dining skills are a necessity for dating me. I sense trouble in the water....

S

2010: Year of Dating Failure. Failure #1: 'Exes as Friends'

NB This rant could also be classified under 'Don't Date Outside Your Type' or 'Don't Date Someone With Crazy Protective Friends.'

1. B apologises for being MIA (missing in action, though am thinking of changing this acronym, as earlier noted, to 'men indecision angst'). Halloween seemed an appropriate time to sit down and finally write a post because, frighteningly, it's when retailers decide it's time to put up Christmas decorations, which means it's nearly Christmas, which mean this year is nearly over.

For me, it has been a year of huge learning curves. Unfortunately, this has involved much 'learning through making mistakes;' the saying I always used to quote self righteously but secretly hoped would happen to other people, so I could watch and learn that way. Confusion has reigned and mistakes have been plentiful: keeping contact with an ex, attempting a one-night stand when it's against my nature, friends with benefits or 'dodgy friends,' telling an ex I've moved on, telling an ex I HAVEN'T moved on, dating several people at once, breaking up with soomeone for reasons unknown even to myself, making promises before being sure and, clearly, OV.ER.THINK.ING.

I wouldn't even know where to start with this mess (and in truth would still be too daunted to begin writing) if it wasn't for an upsetting experience last Saturday night. After breaking up a few months ago, stupidly on my part, my Sydney ex and I attempted to be 'friends' - I missed his company, he missed mine, we're both new in a big city, I've been having a rough time since we broke up, etc etc. Don't even say what you're thinking - I know. But, initially, it all started out so positively! - I sent him a thoughtful gift for his birthday, he sent me a kind card on mine, we met for dinner and drinks and, amazingly, managed to neither hook up nor yell at each other. Upon parting, I felt much better seeing my tradesman again; he texted that he hadn't realised how much he missed me and tentatively invited me to a concert in Bondi, with a group of mutual acquaintances that were moving over.

OK, back story over. Part two: when the shit hit the fan. Morning of the concert and I had msigivings. However, I had (thank god) declined to meet up with his group of close guy mates, who had my concert ticket, and instead raced across the city from work to meet with our girl acquaintances. I received copious amounts of wine, a girly pep talk and a hairstyle change, and made it to the concert with a positive outlook. Several awkward hellos and hugs later, I had managed to greet the entire group of guys and my ex, without altercation.

The concert was great and I behaved myself - ie I didn't sluz on to my ex (even though I wasn't over him, and also very tipsy), I didn't sluz on to his friends (also possible after a few (hundred) wines), and was friendly but uninvasive. Sadly, I'd forgotten that a) drunk girl acquaintances with male interests are prone to abandon the club and b) drunk males are highly aggressive and protective creatures. Innocently chatting to the one guy in the group with any morality, I was approached by the worst of bunch and publicly lambasted for breaking up with his friend to get back together with my ex (wrong). I yelled back (rather than sensibly removing myself from the situation), yet soon gave up, as any scathing or witty gems would only be wasted on one of the world's most dense individuals.

More true to the point, I was busy casting wild glances around for my now dissipated posse, who'd all gone running after male interests of their own. Shit! - friendless. This is when trashy friend #2 blindsided me with a few obscenities along the lines of I am a bitch and a whore and need to leave. Now, I feel I've toughened considerably in the past year, but when you're 5 foot nothing and the smallest person in the room, a group of drunk, aggro blue-collar NZ men yelling at you is not ideal. Luckily I was saved by the one normal guy, who had to physically stand in between the boys and I, and took me outside and gave me a hug. He was consequently attacked for this.

What was my drunk 'ex/friend' doing while this was going down? Sitting watching, letting it happen. Occasionally making gestures indicating that I should leave. Friends, I think not. I would go so far to say that is a Friendship Fail. Is this ever excusable? Am I perhaps being too precious with this? I was fairly appalled and could not ever imagine any of my guy friends doing that to a girl in public, regardless of what they'd done. Not impressed at all. For years I've wished my life was more like The Hills. Drama drama drama!

I was persuaded to post this for its cathartic powers. Sorry it is such drivel but I do feel better!

B

The Crumbling Edge of the Cliff

Ah, the expectations of a new relationship. The fun, the excitement, the new experiences with a new person. Unfortunately, you also leave out the complications to life that it brings. Not that I would ever call my own life 'ordered'- but it does run in an typically chaotic state which is me. As feared in 'Dawn of a New Age' HE has added an extra element to my chaotic life which has resulted in some conflict. This is what I have learnt thus far:

- HE gets mad if I blow him off after organizing to catch up that night because I am tired (apparently he was looking forward to it all day).

- HE is not impressed if I turn up at 2am after deciding to have drinks after telling him I am too tired to go round earlier.

- HE does not like chatting away on the phone for any longer than approximately 2 minutes (unlike myself who can talk the hind leg off a donkey).

- HE takes work off on the off-chance I may stay the night or vice versa without telling me, so when I make him leave so I can enjoy an undisturbed sleep, HE is not impressed.

- HE does not think it is a "big-deal" when he 'forgets' to introduce me to some acquaintance he bumps into while I am with him (don't worry HE will not make that mistake again).

- HE is "still learning" about the whole relationship thing. Yeah I get HE is trying his best...but speed it up a little please!

When did life get so complicated? Actually, to be more precise, when did it become a pain in the ass! I must confess I have several times decided to break up with HIM. While it may seem like a cop-out, I just don't think it should be hard in such early stages. Anyway, despite some rather angry words from me- we are still going. It is like the closer I come to ending things, the more HE picks his act up.

Am I being too hasty? Unrealistic? What pains me is that when we do go our separate ways, I will leave behind a much more refined gentleman than what once existed.

Damn.

A ramble by S.

The 'Right Now' Boyfriend

This is a relatively old term which has recently been revived.... It has come out of several of my friends mouths about their current 'squeezes', and it makes me think: How do you know when you have a 'right now' boyfriend or one which will go the distance?

So naturally I Googled. I found "10 Signs He is A Long Term Boyfriend":

1. HE REMEMBERS THE LITTLE THINGS
2. HE TELLS YOU WHY HE CAN'T ACCEPT CHEATING
3. HE'S A FAMILY MAN
4. HE MAKES YOU LAUGH
5. HE DROPS EVERYTHING WHEN YOU NEED HIM
6. HE CAN MAKE YOU ORGASM (IN MULTIPLES)
7. HE'S A STRONG PROTECTIVE MAN
8. HE'S HONEST EVEN WHEN IT HURTS
9. HE PREFERS TO HANG OUT WITH YOU
10.HE'S ALWAYS ON YOUR SIDE

Really? This is a list from someone who has thought about what their dream man would be like. I think we are all guilty of this. However, this particular long timer sounds like a bit of a sissy to me. If that is the alternative- I will stick with my right-now man thank you.

With that, I suppose the right now man is fun, but a little irresponsible and probably has annoying habits which mean that you cannot see beyond the short term.
Essentially, he will fill the gap left by a former boyfriend....he will provide light relief from a bad day, and he most obviously takes away the stigma of being the dreaded SINGLE. I have found that although I became rather fond of being on my lonesome so to speak, that is rare. I also must admit that that question, you know the one; "So how's your love life?", makes me fume- especially when the person asking knows damn well there is ziltch happening!

So what then is bad about having a right now boyfriend? Perhaps it is merely the mindset which causes you to shut yourself off from the possibility he could be more, or more likely it means that you are shutting yourself off from meeting someone better.

There. I said it. It all comes back to SETTLING. Are we settling by getting into a relationship with someone who is less than husband material?

I am guilty of the above. It has probably crossed my mind that I am currently enjoying one of the right now men... as such I have not even curbed my awful behaviour...instead I am slowly training him into accepting me as I am and it is going swimmingly.

EXAMPLE: Being picked up on a Saturday night and then requiring him to pull over as I wrench the door open and throw up out onto the road. The incident was glossed over like it was the norm. Hmmm. He just laughed and said he wasn't sure if he should have held my hair or what. I did not feel inclined to tell him that I was a seasoned pro in that area and I had it well covered.

I also do ponder whether the man in question is required to know the longevity of the relationship. As I can slowly see my own lad gathering speed in the attachment area, I wonder if I should wait or lay it down that I do not plan on a future beyond some fun for the short term!


Love S (who is currently picking up the slack from B)

The Dawn of a New Age

So the impossible has occurred: I am no longer 'sad in the city'.

Yes, that's right, somehow despite many, many mistakes I have stumbled my way into a relationship. *Shudder* The word itself is foreign to me. The problem lies with the fact I have been single for approximately 2 years. Hence, singledom is not so much a way of life as an entire lifestyle choice.
It was an excuse to do silly things, be selfish, do what ever I liked- when I liked, have the entire bed to myself unless I decided I wanted company...basically the focus was on ME ME ME.

Now there is someone else.

It is like being an only child then discovering your parents have had another child. Suddenly friends ask how HE is, what dates HE has taken me on lately, and I have to take what HE wants into consideration.

Of course this is purely coming from the old single me...there are many more positive aspects of being in, well you know what, I don't need to state 'that' word again. I mean somehow HE has gone further than all the rest and proven himself to be worthy. In this worthiness, there is an endearing quality of wanting to impress me...I thought that was supposed to stop once you got locked into something. Not in his case. It makes me not mind so much about having to give up my selfish pastimes of drinking and behaving like a shameless hussy (not a bad thing to give up in retrospect), of watching sad movies alone at night with only a large sack of lollies and/or chocolate as my companion, and of being cynical towards the entire male species. HE has seemingly achieved the unthinkable.

Haha, the worst part is that I am only semi-joking here. I have an entrenched mindset which has become a large part of me over the last 2 years.

It will mean no more horror stories about the crazies I attract, no more laughing with friends over terrible letters and cards which I once accumulated without trying, no more angst whether I like a new potential or not, no more excitement in the early stages of a new romance replayed over and over as they keep coming.

I will be one of those smug, happy people who just shake their heads at the loose actions of their single sect of friends- secretly a little jealous they have nothing to contribute to the gossip session.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo....

Am I ready for this new age? Am I merely being over-dramatic as a result of trying to deal with a long-forgotten aspect of myself? Or should I run, run fast and far away from the RELATIONSHIP before it is too late?

Love S

When the cat's away the mouse will play....

I have a pressing question...when is it not OK to run around with another guy?

I have been 'hanging out' with a particular lad for a wee while now, but I am reluctant to let things progress into the dreaded 'relationship' label. This is for reasons which may have been touched on already- the main fact being that I appear to have shitty taste in the opposite sex which is not obvious until I receive a creepy message and Oxfam card, or they move countries to stalk me!
However, naturally he is not allowed to go near any other ladies, or I will end whatever thing it is we have going. On the other hand, I seem not to have the same qualms about my own behaviour....

Picture this: Friday night, particular lad away for the weekend, BYO, friends I have not seen in a while, new boys I haven't met before, alcohol, lots of alcohol.

Oh and something else I have not mentioned before- I like a challenge. Basically, what happens under the influence of the drink is that I unwittingly pick a 'target' and test out the water as to whether I can get that target or not. It is a stupid game as I think I realise when I select the target, it is never going to be a 'no-deal'.

Right, so with all that in mind I was dropped home in a ute on Saturday morning before work. Now I am aware that makes me sound like a slapper...I am actually not. Really.

I worked out along the road of the night that yes my target had also had his eye on me. Too easy. However, somehow I ended up at his house anyway. The intoxicated me did not realise that by going back to his house he would naturally think that boom it was all go. So low and behold things started progressing down that path and I freaked out at him- yelled that I was going home and began gathering my bag etc. Unfortunately after this rather dramatic display I realised that I did not have my keys and hence would be unable to get into my house. Turns out the thoughtful me had given them to a friend who was staying at my house for the night. Good. So I was forced to creep back into the bed and stay the night regardless. Despite this problematic night, it appeared to make the target more keen if anything and eager to make amends. Ah who knew, being a wasted mental case was attractive?

Anyway I digress. Was I in the wrong for this indiscretion?Technically no, however my double standards make me wonder if I am always destined to be alone and will end up being a desperate cougar targeting innocent young men for cheap thrills.

Love S

Ode to The One That Got Away (aka the one I was retarded enough to let go)

B has been MIA: Missing In Action due to Men Indecision Angst.

This is all she has to show for it.

A Poem

* "For a free dinner...who sings this song?" I always got the answer wrong, but you always bought me dinner anyway.

* You were meant to just be a one-night stand... but you texted me the next day to thank me for folding your clothes

* You stayed up all night and talked to me when I couldn't sleep, even though you had work the next day

* You spent an hour cleaning your flat in case I came back in the near future

* You thought I was a 9.2 out of 10 when hungover with no makeup on

* You bought new Ralph Lauren cologne to persuade me to be your girlfriend - you didn't need to

* You always answered the phone 'Hey gorgeous.'

* You called me Tits Mcgee and a wee chocolate creme brulee

* You texted to remind me to wear sunscreen

* You tried not to smoke and drink around me because I am a brat

* You told me I am lovely and always say the right thing - I'm not and I didn't

* You would get up at 6 or 7am to drive me home before work, an hour out of your way, just so I wouldn't have to take the train

* You called me late from work just to say goodnight/because you missed my smell/my voice/my constant chatter

* You were always completely inappropriate but it made me laugh. I only knew you for a few months but you gave me wrinkles from laughing so much.

* You thought I looked nice in a dress, but you complimented me the most the time I went out for dinner with no make up and my hair in a messy ponytail

* You wanted to take me away for a trip and plan it all yourself

* You always gave me the good pillow

* You held my hand at the train station/at the mall/at the pub/in front of your guy mates

* You were tough but such a softie underneath

* The night you thought I was going to break up with you, you still ordered my favourite takeaway to be delivered, let me stay with you and drove me the hour home the next morning

* When we broke up you hugged me all night and in the morning said you didn't want to let me go. Even though it was all my fault

* When you smiled at me sometimes I forgot what I was saying.

* You told me you were in love with me when you were drunk. You pretended you didn't remember but I'm pretty sure you did

* You treated your mum and sister like princesses. You told me you missed hugs from your mum and it made me want to hug you all the time!

* You said I was way too cool for you - I wasn't

* I stole your chewing gum, coins, new Hilton slippers and favourite t shirt, but you never complained

* I still have them.

* I broke up with you because I was confused, and stupid. I miss you and I'm so sorry!

The Freaky Types in which I Apparently Revel

My new motto after the crazy Portugese was to go only for nice guys, ones who were not flashy and charming- but instead were genuinely nice.
This was the path to success I thought, and following this decision I met Richie. Richie was lovely at the start- funny, cute, nice, wanted a relationship and none of this 'seeing' business. I unfortunately tired of his niceness and phased him out. This seemed like a great path to life-long friendship.
Then shit got freaky via a private facebook message:

..............................................................................
Hey! Okay so I just spent roughly an hour writing you a heartfelt message and then it went and ate itself... what the?! i put it down to the bad juju that has been attacking me since i missed your party... bad, bad things I'll tell you about sometime. Anyway, the jist was that I hope to catch up with you soon, because you're ridiculously, fandangulously hot and I can't stop thinking about you in a naked way. I know we really don't have that much in common ( ie. you hate good movies, you suck at trivial pursuit.... haha) but you're put together in such a sex-o-riffic way that i am willing to overlook this. I'm sure this comes as no surprise considering the oversexed txt msgs I sent you last semester (something about pushing buttons with my tongue ... totally true BTW) so please reply to me.... even if its just to put me out of my misery! Danke.

SORRY ABOUT THE SENSUAL CONTENT OF THIS MESSAGE...I'M A COCK!!!

x Richie
.................................................................................


Not surprisingly I was less than impressed at this and I proceeded to tell him in not so many words! Anyway fast forward a few weeks and I get a card in the mail- not just any card, but an Oxfam card. This was accompanied by this message which made me feel like I was a victim of domestic violence:


"Hi,
So by now you're probably thinking that I've forgotten or just not bothered to attempt to make amends for my idiotic actions. I haven't, it just took some time. I gave it a lot of thought and I decided to donate on your behalf to Oxfam. They have a programme that helps women who have been victims of the selfish actions of men. I thought that was quite appropriate.
I'm sorry that I've been such a complete and utter *&$*hole. I was completely out of line.
This has been a wake up call for me and I thank you for that. It's a shame though that it took ruining a good friendship in order for me to learn that lesson.
Sorry again and best wishes.
Richie."


I mean seriously-

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THE MEN I LET INTO MY LIFE?!?!?!?!

Test Driving

I heard something funny the other night.

Apparently I 'test drive' guys. This is from a male friend- he said I do not go through men like some other single friends do (no one in particular intended!), but that I pass them by en route to a better option. "Oh this guys interesting- coffee, coffee, no." I laugh because it is true. I do not give many an actual chance, or even let them go around the first bend on the drive if we continue with this metaphor.

I do so because as with used cars, there are so many unexpected problems which are not obvious to the untrained eye. At least when you take them for a spin you can weed out the ones who are not necessarily road worthy or who do not plan on following the same route as you!
It is very rare to find a new model as all men have baggage. The key is to get one which is ready for a new owner. Problems which become evident after some testing include ex girlfriends not wanting to let go, crazy and obsessive tendencies, or even downright dullness. I mean given the choice who would settle for a safe and reliable Toyota Corolla when they could be whizzed around in an exciting V8 Dodge Viper? Unfortunately as the name suggests, Viper's are fun for a short time but are not built for a particularly long trip.

So my advice for you begins with deciding what kind of trip you want to be taking. A fast one or a steady one will determine which type of car/man you require. Whilst I myself have always had a bit of a thing for Lamborghini's, I have discovered with plenty of disappointing trips in them that I require more than just flashy looks... Thus I now seek a happy medium- perhaps a Jeep Wrangler. Fun to off-road in, cute, not too pretty, and not too fast to control....

Love S (who is back in action after a month's break from the blogging) x

Be Careful What You Wish For...

Now this is a post I have been contemplating for some time, but the horrific experience made me reluctant to relive it. However, B's freedom of posting has given me courage to divulge perhaps the worst love life experience I (or another) could ever have had.

Last year I happened across an email sent from myself to a friend sometime before I embarked on a working holiday in the Whitsunday Islands in Australia- a couple of summers ago. It basically went on and on about the exotic foreign stud I was going to be snapped up by and whisked away by in order to escape the cold Christchurch winter. As I read this I shook my head and wondered how this dream could have gone so wrong. How could I have been so naive?

Lets recap.

Beautiful island, sun, sand, and a group of attractive young staff from various countries meant that my dream of having an exotic holiday romance could come to fruition. Multiple romantic (and not so romantic) encounters with the opposite sex including; a resort guest, an English bar tender, and a vegetarian crazy type from a neighbouring resort created an exciting month. Then one night the Portugese room-mate of the English bar tender made advances toward a rather intoxicated me. Although initially hesitant, the night somehow ended down at the jetty with English bar tender looking for me.

After the night at the jetty, a night at the back beach, and numerous other encounters led to Portugese pressuring me to be his girlfriend. Although I came across many pictures one day of a girl on his computer, and he said it was his ex who had slept with his best friend so he had come to the island. I felt bad for him and as the Portugese was the 'cool' guy on the island who EVERYONE liked and had an amazing body I succumbed to this pressure and said I would be his girlfriend. BANG, somehow an innocent holiday romance had become something more. I was devastated when he returned to his home on the Gold Coast- and I was convinced that this was the real deal.

This 'real deal' though was not so much the case after he made several trips to NZ and I had a trip to AUS. However, all he was when he was in AUS was a voice on the end of the phone, or nice gifts sent in the mail. I was a little concerned when I received a 14 page (yes 14 page) letter declaring his undying love- but hey he was far away and I did not have to deal with the reality. I lived my own life when I was at home, and had nice holidays to Noosa on him when I was in AUS. Win/win I thought!

Then he booked me flights over for his graduation. His parents were also going over from Portugal. From the get go I was a bit worried- he had only bought me a flight to AUS, not a flight home. Strangely, when I raised my concerns he got angry that I already wanted to go home. Other problems arose involving his jealous tendencies when I mentioned a good guy friend was also over for the week- he actually found my phone when I was not there and rang the guy in question and said some threatening words. Alarm bells also were ringing when a few days later I still did not hav a flight home. In the end I had to call my parents to bail me out and when I got on that plane I gave a sigh of relief especially after receiving over 10 phone calls once I had gone through customs with the Potugese crying into the phone saying how sorry he was. Yes, crying.

However, despite expressing that I no longer had feelings for him, and we would never be together EVER AGAIN, Portugese arrived in NZ to win me back.
He had his own accommodation and I felt bad he did not know anyone so I said I would try and be his friend nonetheless. Unfortunately, he did not seem to understand and the second day he was here, he went and bought me expensive lingerie. Not what friends do I tried to tell him, but this was only the beginning.

From then on I had to deal with him on my doorstep when I arrived home from town at 5am on a Saturday night (luckily a friend was with me), him crying when I said it made me scared to be around him and I did not want to see him again, him demanding all gifts he ever gave me back, him texting me and calling me ALL the time to say spiteful things like how being single got him a threesome in the weekend, him pretending to leave the country in order to spur me into stopping him (instead I expressed my relief yet again and said it was for the best), him turning up at work randomly, and much much more.

Nice right?

Eventually it took a facebook message to his mother (yes the whole damn family had added me on facebook) outlining this craziness to put a hold on it. I would still hear from him randomly up until I changed my phone number- it was like he was fully mental and did not realise what he had done.

But it still gets worse. Turns out that he not only lied about his ex-girlfriend sleeping with his best friend so he broke up with her- they were together the entire time he was on the island and he arrived home to her with millions of pictures of me and said see you later. But he also was sleeping with many random girls while I was in NZ. This was while he was calling me every day and writing me letters. I had somehow been sucked in by a complete and utter nutcase.

He is gone now (as of last year) and I have long since changed my phone number so he is completely erased. That is an actual picture of my worst nightmare. Why do I still retain this you ask?

It is a reminder; all that glitters is not gold. Handsome is as handsome does. Ah you get the gist.

S

What's in a Text?

Ah the mighty text machine. It makes life so easy...or does it? I frequently find myself in problematic situations because my fingers tend to do the talking. Take the other night for example. Somehow an innocent thank you for the coffee text turned into something fair seedier and unintended.This actually embarrasses me as I am not one to endorse 'text flirting' or 'text sex' as referred to by some. Anyway as a bit of background:

I have recently begun to wonder if the reason I do not have a boyfriend is because I like to have boys doing things for me. I mean I could easily go and buy lollies or a coffee myself- but I prefer to have them brought to me so I do not have to leave the library/house/room. It is rather a skill of mine to successfully coerce members of the opposite sex (who are not romantically involved, nor ever will be) into doing things for me- all without sounding like a wanty/needy cow. All in all, I have created a sort of harem whom I can call upon in times of need, or just down right laziness.

Thus, the other night in the library I get a coffee delivered to me from Broadcasting Boy (who so owed me after texting me on a Sat night for a wine AFTER he and his girlfriend had broken up as mentioned earlier). He looked cuter than I remembered. Anyhow, after a nice text from yours truly to politely thank him for ferrying a coffee to me at a university he does not even attend- I get a reply querying whether I am still at the library and that he had packed in the documentary he was working on to watch Go Girls on demand. I would have been invited but he was naked and in bed. Now, instead of either taking the piss for him watching such a female themed show or not replying at all- the delirious me jokes that maybe I would like that. HMMMMM. The ensuing texts all went on rather suggestively from this point, until I got bored and went to bed.

I have not heard from him since. Go figure.

Other scenario's I am sure many are familiar with, include the inappropriate texts sent after a few wines...and after a bottle they tend only to get even more inappropriate. Mine are inappropriate in the fact the tend to be blatant booty calls to inappropriate men. In fact, I had a certain booty call boy where it would get to a certain time on a Sat night if neither of us had picked up and the text would be sent- 'Out?' Seriously, what a joke! Not a 'how are you' or anything showing an actual care factor. Straight to the point.

The cell phone- like facebook, is a tool for one to portray themselves in a manner they otherwise would not and to aid in picking up. I think it may be time for me to put some restrictions on my technology use, yes? Or stop encouraging creeps. Either or.

S

The International Element - Foreign vs Creepy

The beauty of living in a cosmopolitan city (well, at least compared to Christchurch) is that I am constantly meeting people of a variety of nationalities. however, while I love anyone with an accent, I have to wonder whether dating a foreigner long-term would ever be worth it. Yes, there is the thrill of the international element (and the outcries of jealousy from friends, whether or not the foreigner in question is actually an attractive option. Because let's face it, throwing the phrase my 'Italian/Spanish/Swedish lover' into conversation is always going to sound impressive) and the allure of communication carrying over cultural or language differences. But at the end of the day, who doesn't want to sit down and have a good bitch to their certain someone about the random crap from their day? Or send a lazy text that barely makes sense but you know they will understand? The effort required to date a foreign man must be balanced by his level of attractiveness, I feel.

This was not the case for Frank, unfortunately. However, he is a case study which proves that you CAN meet men in random places and people actually DO give their number out sometimes - I had previously thought this was restricted to cliched rom-coms only. Frank, 28year old cafe worker from Athens, manages the cafe directly opposite my apartment. The first time I entered the cafe with a friend, Frank struck up conversation; also undercharging us for our purchases. Upon discovering that I was a new member of the city, he offered to show me the city and give me a tour. I was both taken aback, distracted, and exhausted (having not yet consumed my coffee), so did not think anything of this.

A week passed. By chance, I entered the cafe again, and saw my new friend Frank. His boss informed me that he had 'been waiting for me all week.' I don't know how I missed this. Frank reiterated his desire to give me a tour of the city, gave me a free coffee, and even wrote his name and number on my receipt. All in all, a nice little romantic story. However, upon actually going out for drinks in Surry Hills, it turned out that Frank was loud, opinionated, and a little deranged (see: fond of yelling 'rape!' out the window of his car while speeding through Sydney on too many scotches). It might have been that I am ignorant of the particularly Greek sense of humour...but maybe he was just odd? How much can be attributed to culture, and how much to strange personality? Needless to say I haven't made it back to the cafe yet...and have been sneaking out the back entrance of my flat.

Which brings me to case study number 2: French man.
This one, again, started out just like a fluffy rom-com featuring me, instead of Jennifer Lopez. I met French man by chance in a friend's hotel lobby, where I was hurrying to after work to get ready for a dinner. "You are not Australian, because you dress so well" remarked a smooth, foreign accent behind me. This came from Sam aka French man - 26, Parisian and graphic designer. Attractive, thank god, in a dark, stubbly kind of way. Well-dressed. He struck up a conversation by the lifts; he paid me compliments, I made a poor attempt at French, he got my number. Success!! I thought smugly.

I then made the poor choice of exclaiming to all and sundry that I was going on a date with a Parisian/an older man/an artist/all of the above. Mum got excited. Unfortunately I was to learn that 'foreign with a sexy accent' does not equal 'man of my dreams,' and that even I cannot view a date from hell through rose-tinted glasses. Saturday: 5pm. I entered the swanky Meriton World Square apartments to meet Frenchie at his flat, in my best dress and new coat. Would we go somewhere fancy for dinner? My stomach rumbled in anicipation. Would he cook for me and ply me with French wine? Would we take a romantic walk down to Darling Harbour?

Answer: None of the above. The pain of this disaster date is still fresh in my mind (no matter how much comforting banana bread I consume); to explain it in detail would be too much to bear.
Highlights include: Frenchie's room, which he shared with a Japanese girl. Ohh no, I'm sorry - by 'room' I mean an enclosed balcony, divided into two, with sheets pegged together to act as a door. I've seen squatters with better digs. Another highlight was my dinner, which consisted of an apple, as Frenchie 'doesn't really eat lunch or dinner' (no wonder French people are so thin). Throw a socially awkward Korean flatmate, Peter, into the mix: 'You two look like you are going out. Are you going out? Are you going to go and kiss?' (2 minutes after I entered the door). Other high points include misogynistic comments re: girls playing soccer, then viewing a movie on a tiny laptop, followed by watching French man watch French political satire. Even if it was in English I doubt I would've got the joke/cared. After this we viewed something bordering on French porn. When I could take it no longer I threw myself towards the door on the pretext of 'catching my bus.' Which is when he finally tried to hook up with me.

Sorry Frenchie, it's not that I don't get your subtle French humour - it's just that you're a creep. PS I'm pretty sure a bite on the face doesn't constitute French kissing. PPS Wearing socks and sandals is NOT making an effort.

To settle or not to settle....that is the question

So, last night (yet another boozy Saturday) we were discussing relationships amongst other topical issues. I piped up with a truth I still hold to be evident: for me to get into another relationship before I reach 100, I believe I would have to settle.
I currently feel like the 'search' for a boyfriend is fraught with average Joe types who would be perfectly fine as boyfriends, but nothing exciting nor particularly fabulous. But really, do we need a fabulous man to hold our interest?

What provokes this query, was having a drink with an old player yesterday afternoon. I have always ignored the blatent interest J has shown in me, as I always found him kind of skeezy, and whilst not completely unattractive nothing wowed me about him. Anyhow, low and behold I am sitting down having a red wine after work with him- due to a rather misplaced text last weekend. However, the follow up from J was good- he suggested a catch up and he made it happen. Kudos.

Now I actually did not hate this encounter- and it makes me wonder, do we write off these average Joe's too fast? Should we be more open to giving them a chance?

Love S

Rebound Sorbet

While recently perusing the bookshelves of North Sydney library in my lunchbreak, I stumbled upon a book entitled 'The Between Boyfriends Book,' written by a woman who has also written screenplays for Sex and the City. Though I only got a quick flick, I picked up some real gems from this bright pink paperback, so I would highly recommend it to anyone who, like me, is "between boyfriends." (Cringe) Or to anyone who just needs a laugh.

A particularly entertaining read was the chapter describing the 'rebound sorbet' - the sweet, no-strings attached hook-up with a man post-breakup (not to be confused with a rebound RELATIONSHIP, which is never a good idea). The 'rebound sorbet' is a palate-cleanser, if you will; because, as the author so correctly puts it: 'You don't want your ex to be the last person you kissed.'

For me, this palate cleanser was Will, the British traveller. A month or two after fleeing Christchurch, I was feeling particularly forlorn and single, which stung even more in such a romantic city. Waterfront? Check. Fireworks at Darling Harbour? Check. Sunshine and beaches? Check. Boyfriend? Sadly no. My long-suffering flatmate finally declared: 'We are going out tonight and we are finding you a man to pash!' Though I felt a little like a 14 year old going to a school dance, I was also excited at the prospect of 'moving on.'

The alcohol consumed may have contributed to this excitement and lack of inhibition; neverthless, my clever flatmate spied just the man for me in Soho, a crowded nightclub. He was English, he was tanned, he was fresh from a Thailand trip (so likely to be a little wild), he called me 'Madam,' he was only in Sydney for a week - perfect.

Any memorable rebound sorbet stories out there? Though mine was perhaps not the most crazy or exciting palate-cleanser story, for me this was a big step (and a fun one). All in all, the night was just like a strawberry sorbet - sweet, light, satisfying, and with no sour after-taste.

your profile pic is nice BTW

For a guy to get your number, it used to be a big deal (unless out in town under the influence)...it used to mean something. Now tables have turned over recent years with the exploding popularity of social networking websites like Facebook. One only needs to search the individual they so desire and add as a friend with a witty, fun message, and then they can chat their way (shame free) into a date or something more.

I for one have had multiple problems with the ease Facebook gives to picking up. Especially as I seem to have a penchant for internet chatting. Such problems include:

#1 The random private message from some guy who I sold jeans to one time saying (amongst other things) that I should 'come hang with him and the boys sometime'.
#2 The private message with phone number included 'to meet up in town on Saturday' by a Facebook friend trying to take things to the next level.
#3 The private message saying I 'look familiar' and where do I 'live in Christchurch?' from a complete stranger with some Turkish name. I mean we all have encountered the strange foreigners who add friends with 'hot profile pics'.

All of the above may seem bad enough, but the worst of these encounters came from taking pity on a guy I got some notes off, but otherwise would not have given the time of day. Lets call him Doug. Not wanting to make it obvious I had only been friendly in order to get said notes I would embark on long and deep Facebook conversations with Doug. Yes, I can admit now I was guilty of enjoying being told multiple times how intelligent and good looking I was...I should have stopped it at the point where Doug would constantly talk about my long blond hair and try and touch it when I saw him.

Unfortunately exams were just around the corner and all the help I could get was required, so I endured this creepy behaviour. I mean having a hair fetish was harmless right?

WRONG. I began to get poems via email from Doug, he made me a CD with songs he 'thought I would like' on it; and then there were the stories. Short stories involving characters eerily similar to myself, and what Doug imagined he was like, arrived in my inbox. They had plot lines revolving around those of Mils and Boon.
OH SHIT I thought. However, I would write snarky poems back (yes I know I should not have indulged his creepy behaviour) and laugh off the similarities of the 'fictional' character Sandy with long sandy hair to myself.

Anyhow, I got much better marks than I expected in my exams and I have now deleted Doug off Facebook as a friend. Unfortunately, since Doug had my phone number I received some texts at 4am on a Saturday night:

- 'OMG I just realised what you did'
- 'You deleted me'

After not wanting to admit I had no idea a) who these were from as I had also deleted the phone number, and b) deleted from what; I generically replied. End of the story was that Doug was very upset I had deleted him, and I got a phone call to this effect last Saturday night at 2am. I sense a pattern. Unfortunately, I cannot recall the exact conversation that transpired (look it was late and I had been on the cocktails) and I got several texts saying he had always been there for me etc. A few days ago I replied to this saying it was inappropriate to call me at that time when I had been drinking and I get a reply:

- 'I know you want to be with me, you just need to cap the aggression'

Facebook needs to come with a user beware: WARNING- YOU ARE GOING TO BE EXPOSED TO COMPLETE WEIRDOS


love S

Because First Impressions Last

I have always been all about first impressions. Like it or not, when you first meet someone the way they look, dress, talk and behave are imprinted on your mind. I read a study once (or who knows, maybe it was in Cosmo) that women have usually made their mind up about a man 10 seconds into meeting him. But if I've learned anything from my 4-month single struggle in Sydney, it's that I should not be too quick to judge.

Enter friend of a friend and fitter/welder. Let's call him McTrashy. He was 'friend suggested' to me via Facebook (I could go off on a tangent about modern dating and technology but will refrain), got in touch, had a friendly chat which turned into a 'friendly dinner' later in the week at Darling Harbour. Not being entirely sure what 'friendly dinner' encapsulated, I dressed in a nice skirt and top (but not a dress), heels (but not my platforms) and nice but not OTT makeup.

This man turned up in his 'scumbag' work truck (his words, not mine), a t shirt and jeans. During dinner I discovered that a) he never finished high school, b) he didn't go to university or tech, c) he smokes like a chimney (though was respectful enough not to do it in front of me), d) he left NZ because he had a 'drinking problem' and e) he enjoys ecstasy on a weekly basis. The real crowning glory was when he asked the bemused maitre d' if they could take the parsnip out of the parsnip mash.

I would never judge on any of these points alone; however, being exposed to them all so truthfully and at such an early stage left me reaching for the red wine, and crossing this one off the dwindling list of male dating options. How discouraging.

Yet, despite the trash factor, it seems that I judged too early. The next weekend I found myself alone with McTrash for several hours at Ivy, having lost the rest of our group. Despite being a drunken brat, and not only asking him if he had herpes, but also declaring that he was 'the trashiest person I have ever met,' we had quite the insightful conversation.

Not only this, but McTrash turned out to be a bit of a diamond in the rough, and - crass language and casual drug use aside - quite the gentleman underneath. Examples include ditching his friends to meet me safely at the train station, paying my entry to the exclusive Ivy bar, buying me countless drinks, carrying my handbag and making me (a demanding drunk) a hot chocolate at the 24/7 at 4am. After telling me that he had 'fallen in love with my eyes' and paying me a ridiculous amount of compliments, I felt obliged to give him a kiss, (just one!) while also obnoxiously warning that we were "just friends, McTrashy, just friends."

This was perhaps my downfall, for after that one very nice kiss I felt a certain fondness for this trashy man...and realised that, damn it, I really cared about his feelings. It would be cruel to lead him on; to make him think I wanted to be his girlfriend. I knew that I must cut (or at least cut-down) the contact. Yet we kept being thrown together at drinks and ex-pat BYOS, and McTrash continued to worm his way into my affections, with numerous compliments, drinks, hugs, kisses, laughs and even a dinner for two at a nice Chinese restaurant at 2am, after a particularly hideous BYO meal in Chinatown.

Now I find myself wondering whether it is wrong to 'use' someone. Is it so bad to be keen for the odd back massage or spoon in winter? For a male companion to eat out with? What's the general consensus on this? I know girls, lovely ones, who have similar relationships all the time. I try to keep the boundaries clear, slipping the word 'friend' or 'buddy' into conversation and texts regularly.

I may have blurred these boundaries, however, by sleeping with him last weekend...

B

I am a Bad Person

Location: Christchurch

Now I have two persona's, the sober sensible me, and the intoxicated man-eater me.

Last night I went out. After some pressure from varying sources about getting some man action I was on a mission. Unfortunately, this 'mission' ended with a dirty pash outside the door to my house by a guy who was 'walking me to my door'. He has a girlfriend.

See, things like this make me so disillusioned about men. It also makes me feel like being single makes me a 'threat'...I am that girl other girls dislike. Not because I am some seductress, but because I am single, available and loose when drunk.

Anyway, it is again Saturday night. This time I am tipsy on cocktails, have some friends around and have action on the phone. (Despite taking some time out to write this...) So I have had a text from Broadcasting Boy who 2 weeks ago said we could not catch up now he has a new gf...anyway tonight I get a text asking me if I wanted to go round to his for a wine as 'it has been a while'. That is BULLSHIT. Nonetheless after some inquiry about how 'odd' it is he is inviting around for a wine after girlfriend disapproval, low and behold- they have broken up.

I am THAT girl. The one who is called upon when a relationship ends. I feel like I need a boyfriend so I am not that shameless hussy...home-wrecker...desperate time booty call...Oh God.

S

Just Friends?

I have a problem.

It involves putting men in the 'friend box'. I do it constantly. Now I don't mean my male friends who I have been friends with for years; I mean boys who are interested in me. I have made many so-called friends over the years and I am only learning now that the only reason these 'friends' stay around is because they keep thinking there will be something more, and that I will change my mind.

EXAMPLE: I lived around the corner from a guy I once was 'seeing' (due to the fact I did not want to be his girlfriend) and since that saga we had become very good friends. SO good we would see each other multiple times a day, every day. He would drop any other plans anytime I wanted to do something. In fact, we had a relationship in every single way except for the physical side of things. Anyway, I thought this was a normal friendship and would call him multiple Sunday mornings to pick me up from many awkward situations, or from town at 3am to pick me up (more than once). He always did this.
Now every now and again when I was completely inebriated I would accidentally hook up with him. Then would laugh about it to him the next day. This again all seemed normal. Thinking about it now I have no idea what possessed me to 'string' him along for the entire year upon the pretext we were just friends. Nonetheless he eventually got a girlfriend. Now I do not see or hear from him at all.

Many more scenarios from the passing years illustrate this bad habit I have of kissing various unsuitable boys and then telling them I just want to be friends. Sometimes we do become actual friends, and I have retained a surprisingly high percentage of these. Other times when the guy stopped talking to me and does not want to catch up once I break the news of being just friends, it would make me so angry. I just could not understand why we could not become great friends now that the awkward stage was out of the way.

The problem is now I do it without even realizing. The way I act, the way I talk, even the way I text guys is conducive to just friends. The friend box is overflowing, yet I cannot seem to stop adding new members. I feel like showing anything more than friends is too 'desperate', if I am not ruthlessly pursued then I am out. This is a habit I need to stop- I have enough friends and no love interests because I have efficiently either wiped them out or stuffed them into the box along with the other non-potentials.

I have a defense mechanism so good that I cannot stop it- any ideas?

love S

Damsels in Distress - General Musings

As I crawled, bleary-eyed, out of my apartment and down the still moonlit street to my bus stop at 6.30 this morning, I was suddenly faced with Theofino or 'Frank' - Greek cafe manager, 5 years older than I, and unfortunately not attractive (awkward gin-soaked date with Frank will be briefly outlined in future post, if I can bear to relive it). Not only had I not contacted him since our 'date,' my lack of caffeine and sleep meant that my conversation efforts were incoherent; my small talk punctuated by umms and ahhs, before the grand finale in which I called him the wrong name.
Frank did not seem to mind, though. He gave me a bear hug, warmed my hands and buttoned up my coat, reminding me with a worried look that I must keep warm and look after myself.
This is the point at which I could have gone down one of 2 paths; I was at a crossroads, if you will. I could have fluttered my eyelashes, looked down at my cold little hands and breathed: 'Thankyou, I do get so cold sometimes...' I realise now that such an action would probably have scored me a free ride to work in Frank's car, or at least a free skinny capp (apparently 'trim cappucino' is an unknown term here). Possibly a spoon.

In reality? I crossed my arms, gave a derisive snort and declared: 'I'm from New Zealand - we don't GET cold.'

It seems that my attempt to be 'tough' around men is pathological behaviour. Just last week, a nice young man in a suit offered to catch me a taxi in the city, as the streets were slippery with rain and I would need to 'be careful not to slip in those high heels.'
To which I retorted: 'HA! I can walk in heels for miles.' Should I have stumbled a little, looked up with a winning smile and fluttered my thanks instead?

There are many more examples, all which involve me disadvantaging myself in everyday life (including attacking my baked beans can with a steak knife for a full half hour tonight, instead of finding a strong man to prise the lid).

So I ask: is presenting yourself as helpless and weak the way to go? Or just a sell-out? Should I try for all the help I can get, and pride be damned? Opinions welcome.

B

Boyfriend Potential?

As I was casually facebook stalking in the weekend I came across something which made me cringe (more so than admitting my preference for stalking unsuspecting facebook prey). Upon Broadcasting Boy's wall was a series of comments and posts from his girlfriend. Of course I took this opportunity to click of her and suss her out- I had to know if she was prettier than me. She was OK. I was happy.

Now to look back a month or so- Broadcasting Boy had desired me as his girlfriend. Now to most eyes he was everything a girl could want: doting, funny, nice, cute (enough to be attractive but not too much as to stray), and he somehow really liked me.
Now to me, all I saw was his HEIGHT.

It got to the point that I would accept dates in order to catch the chance to try and measure myself beside him. An example of this would be when he asked me to help him go suit shopping. Ah, the perfect chance I thought.
I had been prepped beforehand by a friend who said to stand beside him in the mirror whilst pretending to help him with the suit- but not too far behind or I would have the illusion of being shorted, and not too far forward or I would increase my height phobia...

Granted, this fascination with who was taller meant that it was a close race. However, a tall man just has something a short man does not and I didn't want to be that girl with the shorter boyfriend. I just didn't.

Not long after this excursion (where it was just too creepy to stand close to him in the mirror, so a failed mission)I had multiple drinks at some event or another and this lovely lad came and picked me up. Yes, another example of boyfriend material.
Anyway, we go to bed and things start heating up when SUDDENLY I JUMP UP. I had to measure us before things continued. This is a true story- I made the poor guy get up out of bed and stand behind me. I had to know. He was a fraction shorter. Things did not work out.

I tried to keep hanging out with him for a time after this occasion and thought I was getting over my pathetic superficial height phobia. It was not until the point where I felt the need to high-five him as he left one morning after a flat party that I knew we were only ever going to be friends. So, I phased him out. I got 'busy'.

Low and behold after a month of not talking/texting/seeing him, I extend the invite to catch up- the guy is great, a new friend I thought. He was not so keen. The reason? His new girlfriend "would probably not be keen on me hanging out with hot girls." I am flattered, then angry. A new friend gone already!
Then, I realises that the above method is not the way to make new guy mates, and I know Broadcasting Boy was never right for me- that half a centimeter would have always haunted me.

The best part of this rather dull story is that all the girlfriend posts are now deleted off his facebook page. Yes I looked.

S

UPDATE

So when I said there are no potentials on my horizon...
I forgot a recent encounter.



Apparently I am quite attractive to Christians. No, no joke.


I had this problem a few years back when I worked at Farmers to earn money over the summer before uni- and several of the employees were Christian. Anyway to cut a long story short, one told me he would break his 'promise ring' for me, and ever since I have kept a wary eye on anyone who tells me they have Christian beliefs...

Cutting back to present day, I have done it again. Reeled myself in a wee Christian lad. One of 19 years no less. What are the odds I would bump into him not once, but twice in one day too? Perhaps God is trying to tell me something. He walked with me all the way to the library around uni to talk to me even though he was going in the complete opposite direction.

And here was me thinking I thought I had lost my mojo.

love S

Sad Sad Saturday Night

Location: Christchurch

It is Saturday night and I am in my flannel pj's watching Gone in 60 Seconds on the couch. In other words watching Angela Jolie being a babe with her bleached blond dreads getting it on with Nicolas Cage...she could do better.

Granted I have an essay due, well technically it was due yesterday and I have still not managed to finish it. Still, being at home alone (as all my flatties have either gone out or gone to bed) on a Saturday night with no texts for at least 4 hours is not conducive to having a life.

Love life update: one potential ...who is not playing ball. I definitely have a crush but do not know if he sees me as a new friend or more...he brought a coffee to me the other day while I was working, but only due to me being cheeky and saying he should bring me sustenance...I feel like I could reel him in, but only if I took affirmative action. I find it so demoralizing though; to pursue, rather than being pursued. I should be like the Shelby Mustang in Gone in 60 Seconds- elusive, in demand, and dangerous. Instead I am sitting at home procrastinating from finishing my already late essay. Drastic life makeover required ASAP.


love s

Alone in the Big City

Location: Sydney

B moved over to Sydney, alone, 4 months ago after a painful breakup. The plan was to get snapped up immediately by a dashing, tanned, Australian man in a nice business suit. The plan of attack had to be tweaked somewhat after learning that Sydney is the 'gay capital of the southern hemisphere.' Though have met many lovely gay men friends, the dating pool has been extremely limited - and quite a blow to the ego.
The(limited)options so far in Sydney run thus:

Numbers 1, 2 and 3: All attractive, witty, well-dressed and generous. All gay. (To my untrained eye these seemed like options at first).

Number 4: Mitch aka Bus Boy. One month into my move over and feeling single and alone, I decided to dress up and meet a girlfriend for dinner. Taking time for once on makeup and hair, I missed my bus and ran to wait at the bus stop for the next one. Serendipity. Enter scene: tall, tanned, blonde and muscular Australian hottie. Instead of blushing and avoiding eye contact as usual, I used my womanly wiles: took out my compact mirror and applied lipstick in an alluring manner. It worked. Bus boy, clearly wearing a watch (bless) sat down next to me and asked me the time. From there began a wonderful conversation including such a range of subjects as NZ's Next Top Model, long-term relationships and jandals vs thongs. Our bus was caught in traffic for a whole hour. By this stage I was smitten with Bus Boy, who turned out to be 24, finishing his second degree, a painter and coach of children's basketball. I cheekily got his number, and also a kiss on the cheek as he sauntered off.

I sailed through my dinner on a high, sure that I would hear from him the NEXT DAY. This is where the fairytale ended. After several sporadic texts over the next 2 weeks I began to feel like a stalker - had I read the signals wrong? Did he have a delayed reaction of repulsion? Was he gay? In a relationship? Unfortunately my flatmate and I decided over 2 bottles of wine that the clear solution would be for her to call him "just to check if his phone is working." I still feel the burning shame as I write this.

After one phone call from Bus Boy saying he had been going through a hard time with his ex-girlfriend (alarm bells) and little else, I have given up on that most perfect option, with relief. Confusion still reigns. Did I get it all wrong? Is there any way I could have reeled him in? Or was it just meant to be a beautiful chance encounter, to prove to me that good single men are out there? The perfect Aussie man slipped through my fingers...

Next post: Will, the British traveller

B

Welcome

So...to start this bad boy off...




2 single ladies, 2 cities, 0 men.


This is going to be a journey to document our encounters with the opposite sex, our highs and our lows. We will need advice, opinions, and ideas with how to overcome our situation which is more single than Bridget Jones in her flannels, singing All By Myself- classic Celine.

Love B & S