Tag Archives: Single

Chronically Single

16 Sep

I’ve been single for six months now.

Six whole months.

This is the longest period in my life where I have not had a man(assclown) to curl up to.

And, I’m not talking about having a few dates here and there, a pash and dash or anything else. I mean single. Alone. By myself…just me.

Most of the time I am okay with this, I almost feel empowered. Liberated. <cue track  ‘I’m a survivor’ with beyonce bootylicious moves>. I’m the type of girl who normally merges her men, so it’s almost nice to have a breather.

However on the occasion, I have fears that I will end up a crazy old cat lady in my older years, whispering to my feline friend ‘Tigger’ or some other terribly cliché name for a cat about how much better it is that it is ‘just the two of us’. I’ll pour him (and then myself) some timely whiskers biscuits from a packet while I watch ‘The price is right!’ re-runs and pretend Larry is really talking to me when he yells ‘Come on down!’.

So where do you the draw the line between being single and happy and free…and becoming ‘chronically single’. And when is it right to throw your heart back on the line and ‘get back out there’ vs curling up in the fetal position and swearing off the male species forever?

In my quest to refrain from becoming ‘feline lady’ I’ve come up with my five top signs for when I have moved over to the ‘chronically single’ dark side and need to hit the eject button.

In no direct order, i’ll be asking my friends to watch for the following:

Sign 1: When I start taking tips from Christian Carter, and read self-help books about men: Has anyone ever read Christian Carter the dating guru? Please save me…he comes up with dating tips such as ‘men like women who take care of themselves, have clear skin, a good figure and are happy’. No shit, Christian, and you want me to pay $39.98 for your e-book? When I actually hand over my visa details, I’ll know I’ve crossed the line.

Sign 2: Forgetting personal hygiene: Let it all go!! That means embracing body odour and excess body hair in all sorts of fun places such as your bikini line, lip and your underarms. When I start picking my nose, grow my toe-nails and think it’s funny to fart and burp in public I’ll know I have ‘winner’ status written all over me.

Sign 3: When I’d rather hang out with ageing relatives: Listening to Great Uncle Barney go on about his time in ‘Nam’ and Great Aunt Jude teach me how to make a patchwork quilt are just the  type of activities that will have me counting down the hours until Saturday night. Say L real loud for LOSER.

Sign 4: Floral on the bedspreads, floral everywhere in pastel tones: Pink and lavender pastel is the hottest thing around, overlay it with some delightful 80’s retro floral work and don’t limit to the bedroom. When this colour scheme infiltrates the kitchen and patio you know you’ve hit your stride. Time to check myself into a clinic that offers a cell with a padded room.

Sign 5: Dedicating a song to myself: Dialling 188-L-O-V-E for those of you based in Sydney will land you a hot date with Richard Mercer on the love line. When I call up and through a sweep of tears dedicate ‘how do I live without you’ to yours truly instead of my husband who has been incarcerated for a bungled 7-11 hold-up, I’ll know I’ve just invented a new word for ‘wrong’.

So what are the other signs for knowing you have been single too long, and you’re no longer ‘liberated’ but have crossed over to the sad side. Tips anyone?


Couples are so boring

30 Aug

So now that I am single I have realised something…

Couples can be SO BORING

I was kindly invited out on Saturday night with a group of couples that myself and aforementioned assclown used to hang out with it.

I love all these people, but sitting there on the outside, even though we were in a fabulously chic restaurant that cost over $600 for about three mouthfuls of food…I realised how utterly boring the conversation was.

Couple 1: “So how is work for you guys?” <sipping on a dry semillion>

Couple 2: “Oh you know work is the same for us…” <competing with a crisp verdelho>


Couple 1 & 2 <In desperation>: “Miss Procrastination, how is work for you?”

Miss Procrastination: <throwing down a lychee cocktail> “Work is awesome, I have an incredible team, and I get to travel all over the world first class for next to nothing. Last week my work signed off $3m worth of funding for me, and my team executes everything while I sit there and cut through bureaucratic bullshit all day, and pretend to be really important”.

Note the difference?

A couple of months back I am sure that assclown and myself would have been competing ourselves with a new grape variety along the lines of a gewurztraminer white, but now sitting on the outside I realised how deceptively bland life as a couple can be.

Life revolves around only a few select topics:

  • How long you have been together, when your man will be popping the question (get on with it already!) and where you will inevitably hold your wedding
  • How much money you need to save to hold ‘holy mother of god, how much?’ wedding and ‘ you had to sell your liver to afford that?’ honeymoon
  • Whether you will be staying at your place of employment after you get knocked up or will invariably have to nurse working mother guilt, does this mean you need to sell your sports car as well? decisions decisions….
  • The move from the city to the suburbs, and pretending that this is completely fine…that and grabbing yourself a nice .44 magnum to shoot yourself in the head with, as you realise that your mammoth mortgage no longer allows you the opportunity to pick up those ‘on sale’ Manolos anymore.

These crucial points, and whether you need to get roman or horizontal blinds, should you use a suede fabric for the couch or go for the more purposeful leather upholstery and do we really need a dining setting for 12 make up the basis of most couples day to day conversations.

But what I really want to know is, why was this conversation and way of life so acceptable for me a mere six months ago and now it bores the bejesus out of me. So much so I feel like my life force is being sucked dry. I want to scream “get a freaken life already!”

Is it latent jealousy?  Am I secretly longing to be part of this world again, or has my alter single ego who is quite happy with ensconsing herself in doing whatever she damn well likes just too happy to care?

Why is it that when we are single most of us are just so much more interesting? And if we are so much more interesting when we are alone…why are we all so desperate to become a couple and inverariably have it taken away from us eventually?

I am sure that tomorrow I will be lusting over Eric from True Blood again, and think oh yeah…thats why, but for the most part unless the guy you are obsessing over is part of the undead…what makes us want to attach ourselves to another so desperately….to unwittingly end up like this anyway? 

P.S Remind me of this conversation in a few days when I am crying on the couch <covered in a lovely cross thatch fabric mind you> throwing myself a pity party again….

The ‘Type’

11 Aug

oh god, I’m  in love again

I know, I know…I’ve only just let the bed go cold, and I swore that I would take some time out for myself this time, but oh I’m in love again.

….with Bear Grylls

If you haven’t seen Bear in action before, then you should really check him out. He is ‘all man’.  But to be honest it is slightly disturbing that I can be attracted to a guy that can eat salmon raw from a stream and sleep on a hollowed out camels arse.

And it has made me start thinking, about why I don’t have a ‘type’

In order to try and work out the patterns in my dating history and pick someone a lot better next time around, I have outlined some of my more serious dating conquests in ascending order.

  • My first boyfriend, otherwise known as the ‘love muscle’ stole my heart at the tender age of 16. We’ll actually he didn’t really ‘steal’ my heart, I just wanted to be cool and have a boyfriend, and I needed a date for the formal. We lasted all of 9 months, and when I broke up with him after cheating on him twice (once at the formal…smooth), I laughed down the phone. (Yes, I was a real sweetheart in my younger years) He got me back by telling me he had slept with my best friend, which resulted in an altercation at the pizza shop where he worked. He took off on the ‘501’ bus and last I heard he was living happily with a much nicer girlfriend.
  • My second boyfriend, I was madly and desperately in love with. I met him while I was on schoolies week, passed out on the stairs at a house party from too much Galliano Sambuca. He literally made my breath stop. He was gorgeous, an ex gymnast, and is still the sweetest man I have ever known. We had a beautiful relationship for three and a half years, until I realised that his aspirations included, smoking pot, smoking pot again, sleeping in and missing my university graduation. We tearfully ended one Friday afternoon after I realised we were not going in the same direction…but it literally destroyed my heart and served it up like sashimi to the man who I stupidly picked next.
  • My third boyfriend was a real winner. Warning sirens loudly went off from all rooftops across the globe from the first email he ever sent me.  It was titled ‘ I want you to chase me’, but I was desperate to distract myself from the loss of my second boyfriend, and stupidly went on a date with him.  He was the vainest man in the world, requiring not one, but two nose jobs before the age of thirty. I don’t know if I ever truly loved him, or if it was just the fact that our relationship was so heavily dysfunctional which kept me in this state of pure torture for four and a half years. Every time he pretended to go for a surf, I desperately wished he would get taken by a shark. After he dumped me, he turned around and said he wanted to marry me, to which I promptly dumped him. He now travels the world, loosing jobs and sleeping with Asian prostitutes.
  • The man who was to be the love of my life. Ahh he came along at the end of my torturess epic of a relationship with boyfriend number three and re-instated my belief in the male species. Kind, sweet, and dressed to kill, he grabbed me passionately in a dark lit club and kissed me to prove he wasn’t gay. He told me he would marry me after about five weeks, and soon enough we moved in and converted our second bedroom into a walk in robe to house his 387 shirts. The fact he could use a GHD better than me, had previously owned a fashion line and was mad at his parents for never enrolling him in dance classes because he thought he would have been a really good member for the Backstreet Boys should have been warning signs. Nevertheless, we got engaged and were set to be married until he carved up my heart. Not sure where he is these days, I am assuming he is in bed, with a man this time.

And now I am in love with Bear Grylls.

So I’m struggling to find the pattern. I’ve dated nice guys, bad boys, smart guys, dumb guys, metro guys, rough guys and through it all I’ve fallen for all of them.

Maybe I am a just a romance whore? Any ideas people?

What is this blog thing?

20 Jul

So I started a blog, how do you start a blog? What do you write about in a blog? Will anyone even read this blog?

Do you know how hard it is to even find a decent name for a blog?! What, is there an underground community of bloggers out there that I have obviously just been ignoring for the last couple of years while I sip my decaf skim lattes every morning, meanwhile they prepare to take over the city in an anti-blog revolt?

I obviously know close to nothing about blogs, (yes surprising given my occupation) and a mere four months ago I would have said my life was too stock standard to even write a decent blog.

There I was, happily living in my chic inner city apartment and preparing a wedding to make the pages of every bridal magazine in the country. I thought I had it all, the guy, the pad, the newly acquired dream job, the body of Gisele Bundchen …okay okay…massive exaggeration…I digress….

You could say I was well…happy, turns out that the supposed love of my life, was well…not.

Let’s spare everyone the messy details, but when the supposed ‘man of my dreams’ unceremoniously and very unexpectantly dropped a bomb on me one average Tuesday night, my life became a little bit more interesting and well…blog worthy.

After single handedly cancelling a wedding, removing all items from said chic apartment, and moving back to the suburbs courtesy of mum and dad, I spent a good couple of months crying, reading self-help books that well meaning friends bought for me (my favourite titled…’I can mend your broken heart’, sent all the way from London…it made me vomit just a little bit in my mouth when I saw that title…but I still love you A…bless) and trying to work out the reasons why people do dumb stuff. Then I got jack of all that….

And decided to write a blog.

I’ll have to admit to you that I am a girl who has never been single. I started dating when I was sixteen, and well let’s just say that for the last thirteen years I have been single a total of five weeks.

Yep, this is a whole new world for me, and admittedly I am doing it ass about face. I mean really I should have done the whole ‘free to be me’ thing when I was in my teens and early twenties.

People are telling me that ‘this is awesome’. You’re finally going to be able to:

  • Sleep with all those random bankers that always tried to pick you up at Friday night drinks (the joys…I can hardly breathe I am so excited…not)
  • Now that you live back at home, spend all your money on insanely priced Viktor & Rolf handbags, Chanel make-up, trips to Paris and anything else your heart desires (can already tick this one off the list…but will keep it and keep adding items guilt free)
  • Continue to build your file of drunken cab stories to share with your grandchildren
  • Stop pretending that you want to trial a brunette hair colour when really you have always always always been a blonde
  • Write a blog, get famous, and wait for someone to make a movie out of your life (By the way Kate Hudson has already signed on for part 1 of this epic saga, Robert Pattinson will play my love interest…more on that later)

It sounds like fun I guess, not the way I would have dreamed though. I would have given up everything to spend the rest of my days with someone I thought was my best friend.

I’d always pictured us sipping Pimms on the porch with our grandchildren screaming out something delightful like “hey grandma, I’m all jacked up on mountain dew!”

But sometimes, you can’t plan your life out the way you want it to, and sometimes even when you think everything is sorted it’s well…not.

And in the words of one of my favourite ladies Carrie Bradshaw, I found myself lamenting over the following words of advice that she somehow had written especially for me right now.

“As we drive along this road called life, occasionally a gal will find herself a little lost. And when that happens, I guess she has to let go of the coulda, shoulda, woulda, buckle up and just keep going.”

And so, that’s what I plan to do, and here I am, and this is my blog.