The Talk

When one enters a new relationship, eventually “The Talk” must be had. It’s always a bit nerve racking having to bring it up, but sometimes you just have to grab the bull by the horns and do it.

So on Friday, I met Mr W (I’m still trying to think of a good blog name for him) for an evening in town, and after a few cocktails, we had the conversation I was dreading.

As a writer, I’ve always found it easy to express myself on paper (or any form of written communication), but when it comes to face-to-face interaction, the tendency to freeze up and be irrational often overcomes me. Perhaps it was the social lubricant of 2-4-1 cocktails, or perhaps it’s because he is someone I am completely comfortable and can be myself with, but the talk was easy.

Turns out we are pretty much on the same page, and we promised to not be assholes to each other.  I’ll keep you posted x

27 Today

Today with much trepidation I turned 27.. leaving the era of "mid-twenties" behind and officially entering my "late-twenties".

I feel that a lady of my age, should perhaps be a little less excited about my birthday.  But this morning at 6 am I was awake and knocking on my parents door (that's right.. 27, single and living with my parents) to see what presents awaited me.

The sad thing is as you get older, the less fuss is made, when really I think more fuss should be made. I mean, I have survived 27 years in this dangerous world. A ten year old has only made ten.  Surely I have more reason to celebrate than them?

An entitlement to celebrate myself and the year that has been I think is completely valid.

So today I celebrate that since I turned 26 I have:

• Left my crappy supermarket job and got a real job
• Erased my debt with UK credit card providers, Australian credit card providers and Bank of Daddy
• Been on 4 dates
• Kissed only 3 boys
• Resolved to stop allowing unworthy gentleman access to my lady parts (and hence have gone through many packets of batteries)
• Completed half of a diploma in journalism and feature writing
• Almost decided on what I want to do with my life
• Put on 7 kilos and lost 4 (3 to go! Woo!)
• Attended 1 High School Reunion
• Battled with a stubborn case of adult acne
• Got my very first family dog.. in fact my very first family pet ever
• Have welcomed 4 friends babies into the world
• Seen 6 of my lovely friends deal with nasty break-ups
• Have been on 3 awesome trips – Bundaberg, Sydney & Byron
• Watched many, many hours of The Tudors, Gossip Girl, How I Met Your Mother, Big Bang Theory and Modern Family
• Spent countless hours daydreaming about the men of The Tudors and Gossip Girl (Chuck Bass, if you're reading.. feel free to have your way with me)

So as I prepare for a lovely home-cooked birthday dinner with traditional birthday trifle I’m thinking, despite first appearances, I’ve actually done alright for myself this year.

Foolishly Optimistic? Or Hopeless Romantic?

I’m starting to wonder whether my love of romantic comedies isn’t doing me, and other single girls around the world, irreparable harm.

Cause lets face it the following will never happen:

1. A young hot Prime Minister will never fall in love with me (his tea-lady) and track me down on Christmas Eve.  Mainly because I would never be a tea-lady.

2. A hot movie star will not walk into my store, and fall in love with me, giving me a priceless painting and declaring that they are only a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking him to love her.

3. A rich, handsome and intelligent Mr Darcy will not fall in love with my idiotic self, tracking me down at Christmas to tell me he loves me. I would also not chase him down the street in my leopard print knickers after a misunderstanding with a diary.  Mainly because I would not own leopard print knickers (I do love sexy undies, but as a lady prefer black lacy french knickers over your slutty animal print satin).  Likewise, he would not in a sequel, track me down in a Thai jail to rescue me from utter despair.

4. The male escort I paid $5,000 too to be my date at a relatives wedding would most likely not fall in love with me. They might shag me, but would most likely charge me at the end of it.

5. A journalist would not do a story about me being in 27 weddings, and then after a drunken Elton John sing-a-long fall madly in love with me. Probably because I don’t have 27 friends I could be bridesmaid for.

And yet, despite my realisation that they are not real life, I still, deep down, want to be swept off my feet in romantic-comedy fashion.  When you meet a boy in the pub who drunkenly tries to have a conversation with you its just not quite the same as Colin Firth telling you he like you very much, just the way you are.

But you know what. Despite trying to inject some realism into my life, I’ll never ever stop watching them.  Because, on the worst of days they make me smile.

A letter to the opposite sex...

Dear Men, 


I'd very much appreciate it if you stopped treating me like a whore.  I know my past behaviour may indicate that I enjoy this treatment, but that was when I was still on the re-bound and shagging the ex out of the system. 


Being flirty with me and then saying "hey my g/f is away you should come down" is NOT acceptable behaviour. In fact it makes me feel cheap and implicates me as the woman you are cheating on your girl with.  Especially when I did in fact fancy you and thought you were a nice boy.  Also, proceeding to tell me about her, for the record, is a wee bit inappropriate. 


Likewise, not calling me for 9 months, and then calling to say "hey I'm visiting shall i book us a room" does also not make me feel particularly ladylike or do much for my self esteem.  In fact it makes me feel like I should be charging by the hour. Which I would actually find less objectionable, because then it is at least strictly business. 


So in future, unless you are going to treat me like the lady I am, please fuck off. 


Yours etc... 




PS... Not sure what is going on with these fonts lately!

Spark

Spark is important.  Without it, things just don’t work.

I recently had the good fortune to meet a gentleman who, on the outside, was perfect. Smart, funny, nice, romantic and could fix stuff around the house. Everything that a young lady ought to desire – and I do desire these traits. The problem?

No chemistry.  There are some things that you can overlook in a potential relationship.  But you can’t overlook a lack of chemistry. 

Without it, you’ve got zip but a friendly companionship.  Which is lovely, but not always practical.  Especially not when one of you has stronger feelings than the other.

One of my favourite moments in television is from the mini-series The Forsyte Saga, when a father, who has had his heart crushed tells his young daughter, desperately in love with the families nemesis’s son, that’s is always better to be with someone who loves you more than you love them, rather than the other way around.

I’ve always believed this to be the case. Not anymore.  Because the thing is, when you’re the one doing the disappointing you don’t feel comfortable at all.  You feel sad. 

Relationships

Once again I have been neglecting you dear readers, and once again I have no legitimate excuse.

So this morning, as I sit in bed with my coffee wearing my “Jane Austen is my Homegirl” hoodie I have finished up two half written blogs and am getting through some more.

I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships recently. Whether I am for or against them. Whether I think I am ready or not.

With so many of my friends recently splitting from long-time partners I sometimes think, if they can’t make it work, what hope is there for the rest of us?  On the opposite side of the spectrum I then have friends who are in a relationship that is so baffling to me I wonder why they stay together.

A few conversations with a colleague during a caramel latte run also gave me food for thought about the nature of human beings.  But mostly what has got me thinking is that after a recent date with a very lovely boy I was surprised at my sheer state of panic as the date drew to a close.

Clearly I am not ready for this  Clearly, The Ex fucked me up even more than I initially thought, to the point where I am so protective of my freshly mended heart that the thought of letting someone near it’s whole – yet still incredibly fragile state terrifies me.

When embarking on a flirtation it’s easy to let your guard down but as soon as that turns into something a little more than casual banter it can get scary.

The problem is, I don’t think that people can understand unless they too have been through a similar situation, and this sort of thing is so difficult to talk about with real-life humans, particularly ones that you know.  Therefore I use this blog as my therapy.

Apologies.

 

“How Are You? What STILL Single?” “Oh Sod Off”

Recently I’ve attempted catching up with some people I have not seen in awhile, and their first question is always “Any boys” “Seeing anyone”.  Quiet frankly it makes me a little cross.

Whether or not I am seeing anyone is not an indication of my well-being, how I am doing, whether or not I am enjoying my job, how my writing or my course is going or if I am currently just a bit fat (well, this COULD be an indication as to why I’m not seeing anyone). 

My reply that indeed I am still single is always met with one of the following:

a) The right one will come along when you are not looking or
b) Plenty of fish in the sea, bla bla bla or
c) You better get a move on or all the good men are taken.

I don’t mean to sound so Bridget Jones-ish, but really must all the smug married people be so fricking patronising. Coming from a small town it seems your self worth is based on whether or not you are shacked up. 

The fact of the matter is, I can’t see myself staying in this supposedly idyllic (read dull) quiet coastal village for the rest of my life.  I am not done having adventures, and it would take someone extraordinary to deter me from this.  Yes it would be lovely to have someone to share these adventures with, but I’m just as happy with the companionship of my friends, and the company of myself.

And since my resolution to stop whoring around has left me thinking that perhaps finding a man should be a little higher up on my agenda (purely so I can relieve some of my daily frustrations in a more satisfying way), I am not going to go out of my way to achieve this.

I’ve managed to evade Mother’s continual requests for grandchildren by the addition of our adoring and affectionate Border Collie, if only I could do the same for my friends.

My Online Experience

Loyal readers will know well of my dabbles with online dating.

Last week I had a typical online dating experience.  To be honest I didn’t really want to go on it, I knew I didn’t like him all that much but my friends convinced me that I can’t wait around for the guy you fancy to decide he really fancies you back.

We met for a drink after work. To start with he admits he was always late to everything and incapable of being on time. He therefore continually interrupted me halfway through conversation with unrelated things.  He seemed uninterested in what I had to say, but was interested in making some rather racist comments about South Africans.

The next 45 minutes dragged on and I found myself wishing I was anywhere else but there. The icing on the cake was when he admitted that he frequently checked out 15 years old girls (this was the point where I heard Hawkeye’s voice telling me that only weirdo’s go online)

It was such a relief to get home, drink chocolate milk and watch DVD’s.  Online dating is such a horrific experience and I’ve come to realise, in a small town like this one that the people on there are single for a reason.

Frequently you hear stories about how people met the love of their lives on the internet.  In fact, one of my old friends met her current live-in-boyfriend via Facebook.  I however have had no such luck.

Lots of online conversations, 3 dates (this one by far the worst, seconded by the guy who turned out to be about a foot and a half shorter than me) and many blogs later I think that perhaps this online business has had its day for me.

Sigh. 

While I Was Dreaming

As I was lounging in bed last night (brand new sheet set by the way) I was watching one of my all-time favourite movies - ‘While You Were Sleeping’

Another fairytale romance, where a lonely lady just past her prime falls in love with someone she doesn’t even know. Everyday as she sits in her menial job she sees him and conjures up that one day she’ll marry him.

Hilarity ensues and eventually she gets her happily ever after with his brother.. but this however is not my point.

Once again we have a whimsical romantic comedy where I identify with the slightly hopeless leading lady.

From experience I know what its like to fall in love with someone that you don’t know.  To make up a grand love story in your head. Which is easy to do when your lonely. I’ve done it on many any occasion. With people I see on the street to making up a grand illusion that the EX was actually going to propose and we’d live happily ever after.

It’s not healthy.. but then again, sometimes dreaming is better than reality. Because in reality the truth is that I go to bed every night with a banana pillow.  Not that I mind this most of the time.. but everyone needs a little break from reality.

A Letter

Dear Potential Suitors,

When attempting to court me online would it kill you to learn how to spell?

If you ever wish to have the privilege of seeing me naked, you had better learn how to speak properly.  For example ‘I don’t no’ is quite obviously incorrect, and there are clearly monkeys in darkest Africa more intelligent than you. 

Whilst I am more than happy to partake in the occasional LOL, I’d prefer to use correct words in conversation.

I would find you much more attractive if you chose to do so.

Kind Regards,

Miss Ginger

He’s Just Not That Into Me

The day after Valentine’s Day I got out of my Monday Morning Meeting to find a copy of “He’s Just Not That Into You” on my desk.

At the time I was a little put out, but it was from one an old friend who is an avid blog reader who thought it would give me some inspiration. And she was correct.

I bought this book when it first came out many years ago I purchased it and thought that it was by far the best dating book I have ever read. And over my years in London and with c*nts of ex-boyfriends who I was desperately in love with, I forgot about the basic principals of this book.

If a guy likes you, he will call you.  There is no excuse for cheating.  If he’s still seeing her he’s not with you.  If he only wants to see you at 3am or drunk – he’s just not that into you. 

One of my very best friends Pete is very anti-dating books.  And for the most part I agree.  But I could have saved myself a lot of grief over the past year if I had just listened to this book.

I would have realised, very early on, that the members of the manchise were just not that into me. 

My new years resolution to stop whoring around is going to be expanded this year to include the sub-clause – I am not going to chase boys anymore who are not into me. I sent a final email today (can’t help myself with that boy). And now that is it.  I am lovely and obliging and any man would be lucky to have me.

My Valentine…

 

Valentine’s Day is fast approaching and I am being assaulted from every which way with red and pink hearts.. e-marketing for last minute valentines gifts and flowers galore.

Which is why its such a shame that once again I won’t be receiving any Valentines. 

In general I am very anti-valentines day.  It’s highly commercial and pointless holiday, just like Mothers & Fathers Day.  Its roots are in ye olde traditions, but more of that to come later.

It would be nice if come Sunday, someone miraculously wanted to be my valentine. Ideally he would be…

• A nice boy – not an asshole
• Monogamous – no cheaters need apply
• Be nice to me – for example he wouldn’t not be in touch after a date
• He would like me and ideally want to spend time with me
• It would be a bonus is he was attractive and had an accent
• It would also be a bonus if he was talented in the bedroom
• But mainly he would be nice to me

Beyond My Control

It is a truth universally acknowledged that as soon as you make the executive decision to cut something or someone from your life, it or they will immediately pop back into it.

Not that this is always a bad thing, but it leads to lots of confusion in my head.   This happened over the past week.  Just as I made the decision to stop whoring around and be off men for awhile, I make a date to go and see a guy I was really rather into. 

I thought to myself, it’ll be fine, it’ll be good to see him, because I do enjoy their company.  And it was good, too good. Now I have stupid feelings again.  I really would rather not have feelings for people, especially not until I am 100% sure that they reciprocate.  But this really is something beyond anyone’s control.  You can never help how you feel about something.  Whether its a boy, a food or a song.

But as I drove home I thought to myself, quit making such a big deal out of things.  It has been a habit of mine for years to over analyse situations, and think too much about things. Therefore, from now on, I am just going to take things as they come. Not make grand sweeping statements about how I am not going to do things, but just see what comes up on the way. 

Good plan. And an good weekend. Now where’s my wine?

The One A Myth?

Reading my RSS feeds today I came across an article entitled “Settle For Mr Second Best to be Happy”

Lori Cottileb has claimed that “The One” is a myth.  Perhaps it is, perhaps it isn’t.  But really, should you settle? Do I want to settle? Not really.  I don’t want to settle for someone and then spend the rest of my life thinking that there could be someone else out there.

I find myself wondering how many of my married friends got married for the sake of it.  I think at least some of them.  I know a lot of girls in relationships that are just in it because its easy.

I don’t want to be one of those girls.  I mean I’d like a boyfriend, but if it never happens I think I’d rather be alone than spend my life with someone I wasn’t passionate about.

Her book also says that you have to find the person you want in your twenties otherwise you’ll be lonely in your thirties.

Hmm.. so I’ve either got three years to find someone to marry or end up lonely and infertile.  Think it’s time for another glass of wine.

Fish in the Sea? Where is this Sea?

I’ve been thinking a lot the past few days about my no shenanigans.  I’m quite pleased with this decision.

The problem is it means no action until I meet someone I like.  The secondary problem is it is impossible to meet anyone. Especially here on the Sunshine Coast.

I’d like to pose a question to you all dear readers.  How do you meet someone?  Friends of friends? Well that’s out – I’ve exhausted all those possibilities. Through work? Nope that’s out, everyone in my workplace is either married or a woman. Online? Tried that and it was a massive fail. Out? Well everyone is about 12 at the Sunshine Coast clubs, and quite frankly I am after a man not a boy.

So I’m in a bit of a pickle.  Not that I am actively seeking a boyfriend, but it would nice to meet some new people.  I figure my best bet is to wait for a divorcee from one of these early marriages that everyone seems to do around here.  

In the meantime I have my banana pillow… and that aint bad.

Holding Out

I’ve been thinking a lot about boys lately – even more than usual.  2009 was a year spent trying to mend my broken heart and making out with many boys.  Don’t get me wrong, I met a few that I actually liked. One I was pretty much smitten with.  But distance was a problem.
The truth is, whilst my hormones are as raging as ever, I am bored with hooking up pointlessly with random boys.  I think I’d much rather wait for a bit until I meet someone I actually like.  Perhaps it is better when you have feelings for someone?
Oh well, we’ll see how long I stick to my guns.  I give it until my next glass of White Wine!

Your Hot Then Your Cold…

Men are annoying me a little at the moment.  Firstly they are upsetting at least 3 of my very good girlfriends.  But mainly this Hot and Cold business that they try and pull has GOT to stop.

There were a few men in the manchise as you know dear readers, and to be honest.. I am going to remove all of them from the pool.  I am tired of “I can’t wait to see you bla bla bla” texts and then NOTHING for ages. 

I am a good catch.  I scrub up  nicely, can be a domestic goddess when the mood strikes me and am obliging in the bedroom.  And yes, I can be a little crazy and my tendency to express exactly how I am feeling at any given time can scare men off.  But apart from that I think that I am a pretty good woman.   

So QUIT it!  Either be nice to me and communicate with me frequently (it doesn’t have to be daily.. but a couple of times a week would be nice) or piss off and leave me alone.  Don’t get me all confused by a month of silence then send a flirtatious text message.  And don’t blame when when you realise what you are missing… it’s your own fault.

2000 – 2009: A Decade In Review

Today is the 2nd of January 2010.  The second day of the year and the second day of the new decade.

The “Noughties” was a decade of change for me.

2000: Year 12, don’t work as hard as I should have but received good grades nonetheless. Am awkward looking, all legs, ass and arms as boobs have not yet arrived.  Awful fashion sense.  Very sad to leave school.

2001: Started university.  Studying (to my dismay) business, when would have rather been studying at NIDA or similar.  Think about leaving but decide to stick it out as was the easy thing to do.  Hoped to make lots of new friends at university, but found that it was as cliquey as High School.

2002: Year two of university.  Change my major from Tourism (pft.. what a joke) to International Business.  Decide that I want to travel. Obtain drivers license and first car – a 1987 Toyota Cressida with blue velour interior. Pa dies. 

2003: Final year of university.  Finish degree successfully, but having not tried nearly as hard as I should have.  Finally hook up with boy I had had crush on for year.  Boobs arrive. 

2004: Embark on a camping trip of Europe and see things I have dreamed about seeing all my life. Travel to Dublin, France, Spain, Andorra, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, Corfu, Germany, Liechtenstein. Set out on my new life in London but quickly find that it was more expensive that I thought and had no chance of getting a decent job.  Return home with tail between legs.  Get job in Real Estate.  Turn 21.

2005: A bleak year where I realise coming home from London was stupidest thing I had ever done.  Despise my job.  Take up Latin Dancing and quickly become very good at it. See Meat Loaf in concert. 

2006: Have nervous breakdown and run away from Sunshine Coast.  Arrive Terminal 1 Heathrow 19th June.  Bum around for awhile.  Go to Prague, Liverpool. Live in a hostel. Have heaps of fun drinking.  Hook up with lots of boys.  First cold Christmas. Work in a bookstore.

2007: Meet THE-Ex and start a disastrous 2 year love affair destined to end in tears.  Travel to Amsterdam, Dublin, Croatia.  Get a job in television.  Meet some of the best friends I have ever had. Spend Christmas in Scottish Highlands alone as THE-Ex was off cheating on me on a ski trip. 

2008: Move out of hostel into The Vale.  Ditch THE-Ex.  Meet the loveliest boy in the world, who I treated terribly.  Travel to Turkey, Oktoberfest, Copenhagen, Sweden, La Tomatina Festival and all around the UK.  Meet some more of the best friends I have ever had.  Do good in career. Start seeing THE-Ex again.  Leave London in a blaze of glory to return home.  Turn 25. Job prospects look bleak.  Very depressed end to the year.  But best New Years Eve ever.

2009: Go to Perth, have heart broken by THE-Ex again.  Spend a miserable 6 months on the dole due to the Global Financial Crisis.  Granny dies. Get job in supermarket.  Meet some friends at job, but find my soul slowly dying from mindless, monotonous job.  Turn 26.  Pleasant Christmas & New Years. Finally get a career job to start on January 4th. 

So that’s my decade in review.  Bring on the next decade, which there still seems to be much debate as to what we are calling it.  The teens? The tens?  I hope someone decides soon. 

Easy Tiger

One man is dominating the gossip columns at the moment.  Tiger Woods. There is only one word for him – douche-bag.

The latest in the saga is that a 10th woman has come out of the woodworks.. this time a porn actress.  Classy Tiger, real classy. But not as classy as lady number 5 – Jamie Jungers, 25, of Trashy Girls Lingerie. 

In a statement Woods apologies for his “transgressions”.  I’d hardly call banging 10 women and flying them around the world a transgression.  I’d call it a prime example of fuckwittage and a man with an ego the size of China who has no respect for his family, friends or his marriage vows. 

Not to mention his wife, Elin Nordegren, is quite frankly smoking hot.  It leads me to ask the question asked by millions of women all over the world.  Why do men cheat? 

Finding out your partner has cheated on you is the biggest punch in the gut.  It knocks the wind out of you.  That someone you trust and love doesn’t have enough respect to keep his dick in his pants. And what I think is the worst, is the foolishness you feel.  You didn’t do anything wrong, and yet you still feel shameful and foolish and can’t face your friends, who half the time know all about it. 

I’m almost ashamed to say that this scandal has me hooked, and I'm sure we haven’t heard the end of it.  He’d definitely not out of the Woods yet..

Well Meaning Advice Falls Upon Deaf Ears

As you all know I have been single for quite some time now and because of this well meaning friends frequently offer advice.

One of my most beloved friends, Andre, has given me a list of things that I am not allowed to talk about when I am on a date or picking up boys.  These vary from my love of Harry Potter to “try not to be too ginger”. 

I have made the executive decision to disregard all this advice for two reasons.

1. I am an interesting, nice girl albeit with some eccentric tendencies.  I am not going to hide my true personality or try and be someone I am not.  I have done this before and it never works.

2. I am not interested in going out with someone who scares easily.  If they are put off by my love of children’s book series or the fact that I like to knit or that I love to communicate (and yes that means excessive text messages) then they are hardly going to be worthwhile catch in the long run.

So thank you my dear friends, but if you can love me for who I am, then there is a man out there who will too. 

PS. Please bear with me whilst I experiment with blog design and fonts etc. I was bored of the old layout and have been browsing all the amazing templates online.  Huge fan of www.suckmylolly.com!!

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