I’ve been too busy for dating, but….

I decided to put a pause on my online dating activities mid-Jan as I had discovered that my final term at uni was going to take a lot of my time for the next few months. I’m almost at the end now though, just a week and a half to go, and it’s completely killing me! So much to do, so little time….

But, sometimes opportunities arise that you’ve just got to seize. Like that dinner club invitation I had a few weeks ago (major disappointment though…) and last week it was a reminder email that my stamps were about to expire on RSVP. I bought them when I met that guy that had the surprise gappy teeth and who did that awkward hand holding move on our date. Our one and only date…

So I wasn’t feeling too hopeful about using these stamps up, particularly as most of the men on there I’ve already rejected, or chatted briefly to before they appeared to be idiots, or dated and they were definitely idiots!

But I logged on and had a look around and given that I had a 3 day deadline to use the 5 stamps I had bought, plus a free birthday stamp they threw at me, I attacked this problem Oprah style. Yes, you get a kiss, and you get a kiss, everyone gets a kiss!

For those unfamiliar with how RSVP works (or doesn’t work for that matter…), the process is that you send a free kiss of predetermined text to someone you’re interested in, they can then respond with a free kiss to let you know if they are interested or not. Then it’s usually up to the originating kisser to cough up some bucks to send an email message.

I’ve always liked to be the emailer as so often I tire of the guys after one or two emails and if I’ve paid for the stamp, I don’t feel so bad when I give up on them and block them. If they’ve paid, I feel like a real nasty bitch.

So I sent some kisses out and waited for the replies. On 3 occasions the guys went straight to email from my original kiss, which is nice that they are keen, but it kind of annoyed me as it wasn’t helping me burn my stamp credits and they have all turned out to be rather dull.

I got down to two last stamps before they expired, so I’ve got communication open with a few guys. Two are only 30 and I turned 34 last week (eeeek, how did that happen so fast?!?), so I think they may be a bit ‘junior’ for me. Another is just a disappointment. His profile was very non-specific about his work, it just mentioned that he had lots of ‘goals and dreams’, but he had dreamy blue eyes and I’m a bit partial to those, so I took a chance. In his first email to me he mentioned that he didn’t have to work this weekend which he said was ‘unusual and nice’. Alarm bells! So I asked what he did for work and the response was that he works at a Liquorland. Yep, doing customer service. Dreamy blue eyes do not cut it when you are a 34 yr old checkout dude in my opinion. Yes, I probably sound like a heinous bitch. But whatevs….

The other guy has also caused alarm bells, but for a different reason. Years ago I saw a film called Sliver with Billy Baldwin and Sharon Stone. It’s a very cool, sexy thriller type movie. I give it 5 stars. Check it out.

But this particular movie has affected me ever since I first saw it. Billy Baldwin owns/caretaker a high rise apartment block which he has loaded up with secret cameras in the apartments and he watches the residents shower, eat, have sex etc.

I’ve had a weird paranoia about people watching me via secret camera in hotels in particular ever since. Yes, because I’m that narcissistic that I think I’m interesting enough for people to want to watch me…

But in recent years I’ve dated a few people that I feel exhibited stalker behaviour and who were in a great position to do so. From the guy in national security who seemed to always message me as soon as I turned off my alarm on my phone each morning, at various times each day and often as soon as I got home from work, again at various times each day too. Then the neighbour detective that would constantly casually knock on my door seconds after I got home, even if I purposely tip-toed past his door and concentrated on opening my own door with barely a sound. He would also mysteriously turn up at my courtyard fence popping his head over like Wilson in that Tim Allen show from the 90’s, Home Improvement. Sometimes with his gun. However being gigantically tall at 6’6″ you of course saw most of him!

The last security threat from RSVP is a professional hacker. Apparently he gets paid by major companies to stress test their security. Alarm bells! I had not long finished watching the ep of Catfish where a girl had been talking to a guy that was watching her through her webcam without her knowledge, so I immediately felt like placing some duct tape over my own webcam whilst typing to him just to be on the safe side…

He asked me a few standard questions about myself, like where do I live, what do I do for work and what do I like doing for fun. I joking replied that he could probably already work those things out with his skill set, but he tactfully said he’d prefer if I told him.

His profile had only one pic on it and it was a pic which was not displaying any teeth. I was already once bitten, twice shy about that from RSVP after gappy teeth, so I attempted to tactfully ask to see more pics so I could determine if ‘he was a psycho or not’ claiming that I can usually tell with multiple pics. He replied saying he could email me some, so I gave him my generic email address that gives no clues about me away.

He sent a pic. It again had no teeth. I then decided to just come out with it and said I wanted to see a pic of his teeth! I don’t have time to mess around with surprise deal breakers, so I’d prefer to know about the teeth situation up front. Yes, I know that supports the view that I may be a heinous bitch, but hey, teeth are my thing!

I actually had dinner a few weeks ago with some friends who were telling me about an ep of the Australian version of Dating in the Dark that they had recently watched. They told me that a girl had met this guy that had all the qualities she wanted (hot bod, personal trainer, they got along really well in the dark) but when she got to see him, she saw he had red hair and freckles and she was out. I told my friends that I understood her saying no. They were outraged and queried if I would do the same thing if I met someone who seemed like my absolute unicorn in the dark. Bad teeth would definitely be my out clause in that situation. I could probably work with the red hair….if it wasn’t all over his body.

Funny smile orangutan monkey portrait

So although the hacker said it was the weirdest thing he’d ever been asked to do on the internet (doubt it…) he sent me a teeth pic and they all checked out. After a few more emails he was keen to meet up this weekend. I got stuck at uni all day Saturday so I called him on the way home that afternoon just for a chat to suss out if I would be keen to meet him or not. They always need to pass the chat test!

When I called him I was quite surprised that he had a strong South African accent. He hadn’t mentioned that before, but he has been in Australia for about 5 years. He also sounded quite jittery and I’m not sure if it was a nervous giggle, but his laugh is horrible. Like cringe worthy bad. Now I love people that make me laugh and I also love making others laugh a lot, so this may be a deal breaker. My Top 17 criteria may be getting a new addition.

We spoke for about 20 mins whilst I drove home and I used the ‘busy with uni’ card to buy me some more time to get out of this situation. I’m pretty sure I’m not keen, but you never know I guess…

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Marilyn Monroe is Sabotaging Me



I often get up to some ridiculous and random things with my friends. This past Friday night was no exception!

Ms E had seen a psychic show advertised and considering we are fascinated by them (with equal parts of cynercisn and optimism), we decided to go check it out. 

So along with Ms K (who is probably 98% cynic) we went out for pizza, gelato, wine and psychics – “these are a few of my favourite things”. 

We arrived late and the show had already started. What rude biatches, they would have known we were on our way….surely?!?

The psychics could not have looked more stereotypically psychic like. One had a Fleetwood Mac vibe with long blonde stringy hair that looked like it hadn’t been trimmed since 1986 and was wearing a purple velour jacket. Another had a flowy top with sequins on and was clutching a crystal ball. The last was wearing a pink sparkly kaftan, a long hair piece ponytail and came out dancing and clapping together what I assume were chakra sticks. Oh this will be fun!!

Both of the psychics were complete rubbish and clearly fraudsters of the Mentalist variety! They moved through the room picking people that they were supposedly drawn to and asked question after question, generally guessing the wrong things as the subjects continually said ‘no that’s not right’. 

But Purple Velour was not a psychic, she was a Feng Shui expert. Ok, I’m listening….

I’ve read about feng shui a bit, but frankly it all sounded a bit too ‘moonbeams, rainbows and mung beans’ for my liking. Purple Velour gave us a talk about using feng shui for love, particularly what not to do and it seems that Ms E and I are single because of our decorating style. Obviously. Why didn’t we think of that?!?

So things that are bad: 

White in the bedroom – too crisp, cool, not warm enough for luuuuuuurve. However, I may be offsetting this one as apparently reds, pinks, purples and golds add warmth and passion and I have lots of purple cushions on my bed. Lots. Too many perhaps. 

Cluttered bedsides – apparently I’m doing well with matching bedside tables and lamps, but the fact those bedsides are generally full with candles, my laptop, iPad, books, jewellery etc it is bad, bad, bad!

Not making the bed – I pretty much make the bed most days, but there is the odd occasion I leave it as is. No more!

Odd numbers – everything should be in a pair. No odd numbers as that attracts being single rather than being part of a couple. Now I have a lot of candles that are lone soldiers, but I also have many sets of three. If this tip was really that powerful, I can’t understand why I’m not having more threesomes. Ok. Any.

Sleeping with an ensuite door open – drains energy from the bedroom apparently. Must shut that tonight!

Images of single women – surrounding yourself with images of single women projects what you want to be. Fail! I have this painting of Marilyn Monroe looking all gorgeous and sexy in the living room which I love, but clearly she has been ruining my love life!! I also have these retro champagne posters in my hallway – featuring women all alone (although they too are sexy women). The suggested fix for this was to display pictures of a happy couple. Ms K at this point asked if I’d like a massive wedding photo of her and her husband to display on her wall. Ummmmm thanks but…..

Tv in the bedroom – this always comes up as a passion killer, but I adamently disagree! I actually love my bedroom, I’ve always thought that it has quite a relaxing, comfy vibe and it’s nice to lay down and watch a movie in….particularly with spooning….particularly with ice-cream spooning too. Ooohhh what a fantasy….

Anyhoo, Maz is staying on the wall as I love, love, love her. What’s the worst that could happen? Some sexy buxom blonde comes into my life?!? I’m willing to take that chance!

But I did clear my bedside tables and remove my threesome candles from my bedroom this morning before leaving the house.

I also googled some more feng shui tips during a lull in class at uni today. Apparently if I turn on both my bedside table lamps at the same time every night, leave them on for at least 3 hours and turn them off at the same time every night for 27 consecutive days, my unicorn will instantly appear! 



I Met Someone on the Weekend



On Thursday I received a txt message that was rather unexpected. It was an invitation to a singles dinner event for this past weekend. I had long forgotten about this company and unsubscribed from their emails thinking I’d never bother with them again after my first dodgy dinner back in May last year.

I knew my membership was expiring in February, so this would be my last chance to go to an event and try and get some value out of my $500ish membership fee. I had a rare weekend ahead where I wasn’t that busy with uni, so I booked in and headed off on the Saturday night to a Lebanese restaurant to meet some men! 

So the basic premise of these things is that 3 girls and 3 guys turn up at a restaurant asking for a table booked under a certain name and you are then led to the table by a waitress as you obviously have NFI at that point what your fellow diners look like.

When I arrived, I heard the person in front of me ask for our table, so I join them and we are led to a corner booth-like table at the back of the restaurant where the 4 others are already seated. 

Conversation starts and within about 3 minutes I have decided that almost everyone at the table are rather intellectually un-stimulating. Oh crap, this will be a long dinner…. should I fake gastro and go home now?!?

One fellow diner shows some early promise though, but I’m stuck on the complete other side of the table to them.   

We order the banquet and being Lebanese food, I’m paranoid about getting greenery in my teeth well before any food hits the table. Honestly, could there have been a worse first date cuisine choice?!? Parsley, parsley and more parsley. Fuck you tabouli! And far too much communal food touching for my germ-a-phob liking….

Anyhoo as the night progresses I strike up some good conversation with the intelligent one, speaking across the table whilst the others talk about buttons, or something equally complex…

We discover that we are both foodies, don’t have kids, like tragic retro concerts, travel, nice cars. Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick!!

We get talking about their business and it turns out that they work in a similar field as me and I want to know more, but then a belly dancer turns up and distracts us from the conversations (particularly the men…)

I sieze this opportunity to head to the bathroom to check that there isn’t a small forrest in my teeth and when I return I casually (yeh right) suggest that we mix up the seating arrangement and I join the intelligent one. 

Not long after, the belly dancer retires and we realise that we have all finished eating, finished our drinks and the buttons conversation has run its course.  We pay the bill and walk out the front of the restaurant to say our goodbyes. 

I fake that it was nice to meet the idiots and we all start talking about where we have parked. Almost everyone is parked down the street, but I’ve parked up the street and the intelligent one says that they too are up that way, so we’ll walk together. Sweeeeeeet….. 

We head off and have a good chuckle debriefing about some of the ridiculous and idiotic comments of the night. We get to my car and it turns out that the intelligent one actually didn’t drive, they caught a cab there but wanted to walk with me to ask me if I wanted to catch up again. 

When you book into these dinners, they tell you that to avoid awkwardness you shouldn’t ask this, or ask for phone numbers etc, but rather tell the organiser on Monday if you want to exchange contact details and if you both say yes, they will facilitate it. Inefficient!

We exchange numbers and discuss maybe catching up next weekend sometime as we are both pretty busy during the week ahead. 

I jump in the car and head home. Not a bad night all in all! 

It’s just a shame the intelligent one was one of the girls….. 

Oh well, one can never have too many Wingwomen right?!?