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