Joining the Mile High Club…Sorta, Kinda, Not Really


So, I’ve been a slack lazy tart on this blog lately. But with good reason (I think/hope!?!) 

I’ve been focusing my attention on holidays. When I turned 36 in March (how the fuck did that happen so quick?!?) I decided that I hadn’t travelled nearly enough, so I decided to do #12tripsin12months. I’m now up to trip 8 and have been to some awesome places and made some seriously good memories. There is a very good chance that this could become #24tripsin24months or #36tripsin36months….

I’ve got a need for speed and a taste for adventure so I’ve been pretty busy on these trips and not really had much time for men. Some trips I’ve done with friends, some with family and some alone because my favourite person to hang out with is me….ūüėé

But something completely random happened on my last trip when I was flying from Broome to Perth. I’d had this AMAZING two week holiday by myself starting in Exmouth Western Australia swimming with Humpback whales, then to Broome where the highlight was the horizontal falls day trip where I travelled by 4WD, then seaplane, then helicopter and jet boat. Yeh, it was pretty low key….

I started the journey back to Sydney by checking in at Broome’s very basic airport that was almost like a bus shelter and the customer service woman asked if I wanted to be upgraded to an exit row. I said sure. 

As I was boarding, the customer service woman told the guy in queue in front of me that he was upgraded to an exit row and asked if that was ok. He said yes. I followed him onto the flight and found that we were in the same row, which was the front row with a spare seat between us. 

We said hello and I joked to him that it was typical to get upgraded to the pointy end of the plane only when there isn’t a business class (we were on a lil’ Fokker regional flight). 

Then we kept chatting as everyone got settled. The flight attendant came and educated us on our responsibilities as exit row people and I warned him that in the case of emergency I was pushing him out the way and taking off down the slide first. 

We took off in silence and just as I was wondering if I should put my earphones in, we started chatting again. He was on his way home to Perth and I told him about some of my WA adventures. 

The inflight meal came and it was the absolute worst. It was bloody lucky it came with wine. I told him about the amazing meat pie I’d had on my QantasLink flights between Perth and Exmouth and because I can’t help but take photos of almost everything I eat (it really is quite the mystery as to why I’m single right?!?) I showed him the photographic evidence of said pie. 

Then we took a photographic journey of my life. My recent travels, the love of my life (my car), the racetrack…all whilst the wine flowed. We kept buzzing the attendants for more wine. It was a night flight and the cabin was dim and we were clearly pissing other people off with how loud we were talking and laughing. 

Quite a few wines on, I was showing my emergency exit buddy more pics of my holiday and swiped through some poolside cocktail selfies. He stopped me and swiped back and said, and I quote, ‘you look pretty when you smile’. 

Ok, it’s on! Like donkey….

Anyhoo, more wine, more flirts, more sexy glances and then in amongst the sleepy cabin he says quietly ‘kiss me’. 

Now I’m a lady and shit, so I said ‘noooooo, that’s weird’. And I meant it. For a nano second. 

The we pashed on. On a plane. Two complete strangers having met only 2 hours ago. And I’m sure the rest of the plane noticed as suddenly instead of lots of giggling we were silent. 

We landed and it wasn’t until I stood up that I realised how truly pissed I was. As we were waiting for the doors to open he grabbed my ass and I squealed and everyone turned to look at me. Because I’m classy AF. 

Just imagine if we actually needed to operate the emergency slide. Two bumbling messes getting the door open (maybe) followed by weeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! ūüėā

The Insurance Policy – Part 1

Eggs_Dollarphotoclub_91622679.jpg

Guys, as in men, you may want to skip this post. It involves girly things and if you are the type that hates the word ‘period’ as much as women hate the word ‘moist’, I think you should stop reading now….

Still reading? Ok, well here is your second warning. This post is about babies…kinda. If you are the type of guy that thinks women in their 30’s are just¬†wanting to have babies with you (which is actually quite frustrating and totally untrue, sometimes we just want to have fun with you too, seriously…) you should probably stop reading now.

This post is about egg freezing. I’ve been on a dating hiatus for a while now, partly due to starting a new job which has been keeping me insanely busy, but also because of my impending egg freezing treatment. I thought it would be best to refrain from dating someone new whilst I’m a hormonal nightmare.

This whole process started early last year. I was approaching my 34th birthday, I had a number of friends who had recently had a baby and I was certainly nowhere close to being in a situation of having one myself, nor did I really want to be. I was dating and I had in my head that I would have kids at some point, but I still felt it was a long way off.

But after hearing many a story of friends my age (or younger) struggling to conceive naturally, I understood that I perhaps didn’t have a ‘long way off’ to play with. Also, I was approaching my ‘scary age’ of 35. You know, the age at which you think it’s make or break for baby making. Many years before this I had thought 35 would be the age at which I would ‘buy a baby’ if I hadn’t met someone, which to me meant going down the sperm donor path and going it alone.

But at almost 34 I still felt very young. My friends that had had children, who were also about 34, also seemed far too young to have children. Not in the irresponsible parent kind of way, more that we were still laughing at ridiculously childish things ourselves. So I got a referral to an IVF doctor and thought about looking into egg freezing. I thought about it for about 4 months. I was busy finishing my MBA, then taking a holiday, then I was enjoying being between jobs, dating etc and finally mid last year I made an appointment at the IVF clinic.

I intended to go and just get the blood test done that assesses your egg reserves and let that make the decision for me. If it was low for my age, I would definitely look at egg freezing. If it wasn’t I would probably give it some more time. I didn’t realise though that I would have to go off the pill for an accurate read on the test and having been on the pill since about 16, it took a few months to even get my period back to normal to be able to do the test. ¬†By then it was about October¬†last year and as well as the blood test I had to have one of those delightful internal ultrasounds that commences with a woman rolling a condom on a giant wand and lubing it up, plus a round of standard STI tests to check everything was in order for the egg freezing to go well.

After enduring all that, I returned to the IVF clinic to get my results. Everything was good and my egg levels were ‘normal’ for a 34 year old woman.¬†The bad news about that was that there was no chance of being deemed fertility challenged and getting medicare to foot some of the bill for egg freezing. The doc ran through the costs with me. $11.5K. Yikes!!! I knew it would be about that, but hearing it still hurt. And it might be more. Many people do it 2, even 3 times to make sure they have enough eggs in the freezer to counter¬†the failure rate. On average I might get 9-12 eggs out of a cycle, but when I choose to use them half may die when they are defrosted, some more will swipe left on the chosen sperm (who I may or may not know the name of…) and some more just won’t implant. On average 1 in 6 could lead to a pregnancy down the track. So all this for a one or two chance, hmmm I don’t like those odds!

All of the things that I would rather spend $11.5K on were running through my mind. A Vegas trip? Part way to a second car (I really want a spare convertible ;p) Hell, I could even get a boob job for that!

But the doc had told me that up to 35 is pretty much the last of the ‘optimum’ time to freeze your eggs. They will of course do it after that, but because fertility declines so significantly from 35 the chances of it being all that beneficial declines significantly too.

I knew I was at least 2 years off realistically being in a position of wanting a child (at best). I was single and even if I met my unicorn the next day, I’m not a quick commitment person and it would be very unlike me to decide I wanted to have a baby with someone too fast, plus I still felt like my lifestyle did not really have space for caring for a baby at this point.

So I decided to go ahead with freezing my eggs with the idea that it was insurance that would possibly safeguard against the decision to have a baby or not being taken out of my hands. I also thought at the time that it would bump out my scary age from 35 to 39. If I still hadn’t met a potential future baby daddy by then, I would go it alone with a sperm donor. Done. Locked in. Let’s do this…

I was about to accept a new job at the time so expecting that I will soon be getting a salary again, I started proceedings aiming to complete a cycle before Day 1 of my new job. I headed back to the clinic for a lesson on how to inject myself with the hormones each night and practised on a little pin cushion thing which was supposed to replicate my flesh. I felt awkward and weird and the pen type syringe was simple, but the proper syringe freaked me out a little. I wrapped up the session quickly and thought I’d work it out by reading the instructions, or surely there would be a youtube vid I could watch later. I’m so Gen-Y….almost.

But then I changed my mind about that job and decided to hold out for something I wanted more. Early this year that opportunity came along and I booked an appointment with the IVF doc to get started again as my original referral had run out. I waited a month or so for the appointment, then again I had to do some more tests, then finally I was ready to go early May.

Just before I was about to start I was up early one Saturday morning to pick up my ultrasound scans. I was stopped at traffic lights, feeling hungover as I’d drunk a bottle of red in the bath the night before after a particularly big week at work and I was watching some parents on the sidelines of a soccer game in drizzly rain. The kids looked really little and clearly had NFI what they were doing on the field, the parents looked tired, bored and like they were hating their lives and I couldn’t help but think, fuck I really don’t want to be doing that! Not now, not in 4 years time at 39. Perhaps my new scary age is actually 42….

Then my period came earlier than expected that day and because I hadn’t sent back all my forms just yet, I had to delay for another month. Hmmm two false starts already…is this a sign?!?

But I decided to just go for it after all the effort I had already expended on the issue and this is how it played out..

Day 1¬†On day 3 of my period I head into the IVF clinic to do my first blood test and pick up my drugs. When I arrive at reception there is another patient, a man, who is carrying something and looking very uncomfortable. He is told to go downstairs to the day hospital so I assume he is dropping off a sample… There is another girl by herself who looks about my age and seems quite relaxed, as well as a couple who look quite anxious.

I’m called in quickly, a simple blood test is done and I’m given a cooler bag with my drugs, some of which I need to get home and into the fridge promptly. I’m in and out of the clinic within 10 minutes. When I get home and unpack the cooler bag, I’m quite surprised by how many vials of drugs I have!

IMG_7228

I was heading out to a dinner that night, which was to involve wine (it’s ok, alcohol is only really an issue when you intend to make the baby as part of the process), so I made sure that I read the instructions before I went with a clear mind so I could take the drugs as soon as I got home. You must inject within about an hour of the same time every night, so I had to be home at a reasonable hour, or be up late for the next two weeks.

When I get home I prep the syringe pen, the needle inserts easily into the skin near my belly button and I think I’ve done a good job until I see the reading on the side of the pen shows only 12.5 units went in, instead of the required 200. I didn’t realise the pen would kind of click each 12.5 units and I had to keep going until it zero’d out. So I had to inject myself again to finish off the job. Not ideal, but Day 1 was done without any drama.

Day 2-3 goes fine, no real side effects that were noticeable at all apart from possibly being a little more tired than usual.

Day 4¬†Things start to get more real. I’ve got cramps, I’m a bit bloated and I’m feeling a little spacey late in the afternoon at work. I also have a bit of an upset stomach, but all in all the side effects are quite manageable.

Day 5¬†I’m up early to pop into the IVF clinic for a blood test on my way to work to check how my hormone levels are responding. I’m in and out within 10 minutes again and they call about lunchtime with good news. My hormone levels are rising quickly, so my eggs are apparently growing well and I’m good to start taking the next¬†medication that night. This means two injections each night and¬†it’s now time to use the¬†proper syringe. That needle seems sightly thicker and is definitely harder to insert. It also makes the skin around the injection site a bit red and itchy, but that subsides quickly. I’m starting to feel quite tired in the evenings now but again it’s manageable.

The nurse told me that day that I’ll possibly be good for egg collection by¬†Day 10 based on how quickly my levels have come up. Yippee! Maybe this will be short and sweet…

Day 6¬†The bloat is getting worse and I’m now looking for the loosest work clothes I own when I’m getting ready in the morning. I had a shit day at work that day and got stuck back at work late finishing something urgent, possibly because my mind was again rather spacey and productivity was low! I was also really cranky and close to punching a number of people in the face….but to be fair, I think they deserved it anyway, it wasn’t the drugs talking ;p

Day 7 I’m up early again today for another blood test followed by an ultrasound to check how the eggs are growing and I get to watch on the screen as my follicles are measured. Not that I can really decipher much, but it looks like there are a lot of potential eggs there. Again the clinic is really efficient and although it’s not the most pleasant thing to experience an internal ultrasound first thing in the morning, I’m glad that it’s over and done with and I’m on my way to work in no time.

When the nurse calls early that afternoon I’m told the eggs are growing well, but not as fast as the previous blood test indicated. So I’m to keep doing what I’m doing and to come back on Day 10 for another blood test and ultrasound. Maybe they’ll be ready to hatch by Day 12 instead.

To be continued….

Read Part 2 now.

 

 

Trying Something New

I have rubbished speed dating in the past because of the 5 or 6 times that I’ve done it, all but one session has been really terrible. On one occasion I was stuck on a wine tour bus in the Hunter Valley on a 45 degree day with a psycho that decided we were destined to get married within 5 minutes of meeting. On another I had to endure a 15 minute date with a man who was a courier and thought that I wouldn’t understand what that involved from the title, so told me about the type and size of all the parcels he delivers in great (excruciating) detail.

I said after those two last disasters that I would never try it again….but I think we all know by now that I never stand by my word on these things….

SSIS: “I’m never using Tinder again….”

SSIS: “I’m never buying RSVP stamps again….”

Anyhoo, I had been keeping my eye on a new company called CitySwoon who was doing speed dating events, but they were a little different to the norm.  They had held a games night at the Arthouse recently which sounded like fun, but had sold out of female tickets by the time I went to book.

When I saw that the next event was for speed dating combined with the movie Trainwreck which I definitely wanted to see, I thought what’s the worst that can happen? Even if all the guys are duds, at least I’ll enjoy the movie….

So when the night rolled around last Friday, I arrive at the cinemas on time at 6:30pm and I’m greeted by someone from CitySwoon. He gives me an allocated seating movie ticket randomly plucked from a pile and tells me to head in to the cinema by 6:45pm. I grab a drink and when I find my seat inside, I’m on the aisle and there is already a guy sitting in the seat next to mine, who I assume is my date.

He immediately confirms this by introducing himself and we get chatting. He seems nervous as he rapid fire tells me about his recent holiday for a few mins, but then eases into it and conversation flows effortlessly for the 20-25 mins of trailers whilst the cinema fills.

I’ve always found movie dates when it’s very early days with someone quite awkward, but this time I felt that it gave an interesting insight into my date’s¬†personality. In a few places through the movie my new friend found some scenes hilariously funny with a big boisterous laugh almost leaping out of his seat, but usually at things I didn’t find that funny. The same seemed to happen in reverse when I found things really funny.

When the movie ends we are to head to the Gold Class bar for some speed dating. Although I enjoyed my conversation with my movie date, he isn’t my usual type and I couldn’t really see myself wanting to go on a real date with him. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and tell him I’ll see him at the bar.

After the usual epic female toilets queue, I get to the bar to find myself at the end of an even longer drinks queue for our group, which wouldn’t be so bad except I’m stuck in the middle of a group of girls. I make chit chat and hope that I don’t leave here having only achieved meeting some cool chicks….as so often happens to me.

After getting a drink I see that the group are pairing off whilst we wait for the arranged dates to start, so I look around, see a tall guy standing by himself and approach him. After a few mins of chatting, I’m not feeling it and he flips open his phone case to check¬†if we’ve been sent anything by CitySwoon yet¬†and I notice that his screen saver is a pic of a young child.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd I’m out.

When everyone has their drink, the dates begin. We all get a txt asking us to log in to the CitySwoon site where our first match will be revealed. We’ve apparently been matched based on the profile questions that we had to fill out on the website prior to the event. We are not really given any insight into how this matching program works, but I assume at the very least it’s looking at things like age, smoking, kids, height etc.

I eagerly look at my match. At the top of the screen I see his name and which end of the bar to meet him at and as I continue scrolling I see……a smile with a great big gap between the teeth. It’s ironic in the Alanis Morrisette kinda way.

I meet my date and yes the teeth thing is one of my weird quirks I know, but he is also shorter than me so I think we are equally as uninterested in each other. We have somewhat awkward chit chat, which is mostly me talking to fill the gap.

After what seems like a very short period of time (yay), we get another txt and a new match delivered on the website. My next match is the first guy’s friend. Also not my type, also slightly awkward chit chat.

The rest of the dates continue a little like that, but I must say everyone is in a good mood and they are mostly a fun group. There were two good looking tall guys out of my 7 matches, both I had great chats with, but both were late 20’s I think (indeed one definitely said he was 28). The age range for the event was meant to be 30-50, so maybe they fibbed on their profile?!

The night ends, I haven’t met anyone I’d be inclined to actively pursue, but maybe I’d want to catch up with the young tall guys if they contacted me. Maybe…

But I had a fun night and there were no psychos, so it exceeded my expectations. I provided feedback at the end that I like the concept of ‘matched’ speed dating where your dates are based on some kind of logic rather than just getting 12 guys and 12 girls in a room and seeing if magic happens, but I feel that most people have those fundamental deal breakers that must be met for the concept to work. Like smoking, kids and especially height for me and many women I know.

One of the guys even said to me ‘wow you make me feel short’. Geeze, thanks buddy, I now feel like a giraffe…

I’ve Fallen For a Man That I Don’t Find Attractive

Who would have thought it was possible? I certainly didn’t. Sure, I’ve heard stories of it happening, but only to people with far lower standards than me ;p

I count physical attraction as one of my top 4 elements of compatability for me to be really in to someone. No, I’m not expecting the chiselled good looks of the deliciously tall Bondi Vet or the Magic Mike body of Channing Tatum (although I wouldn’t knock them back…) but I do want someone that I actually like to look at when I talk to them.

I’ve often debated this issue with people that like to tell me that I’m single because I’m ‘too picky’. I’m told to give the guy with the bad teeth or the wonky eye a go because attraction can grow.

I agree that attraction can grow. I can prove it. I don’t usually feel that attracted to guys with dark eyes, as evident by the guy that plays Mr Grey in 50 Shades doing absolutely nothing for me! But I do remember a guy I was seeing for a few months who had brown eyes that I found reasonably physically attracted to initially, but I grew to really like how intense his brown eyes were they more I grew to like him to the point that it was my favourite feature about him even though I had hardly noticed them when we met.

So I was quite fascinated by the U.S. version of Married at First Sight when in both season 1 and season 2, one of the three women matched for marriage openly admitted that they were not attracted to the guy chosen by the ‘experts’ as her ‘perfect match’ and that the guy they picked ‘did not look like my husband’.

<<<<SPOILER ALERT>>>>

I’m only halfway through season 2, but it seems that both of these women committed to the experiment and ended up getting ‘crushes’ on their husbands and becoming attracted to them the more that they got to know them. As they learnt more about the guy they realised that they actually had a lot in common and they understood why the experts had matched them. These couples seemed to end up being the matches with the strongest long term relationship potential.

Now, maybe season 2 doesn’t work out that way (I’m currently binge watching the series, so I’m sure I’ll know shortly…) but from season 1, I am quite shocked that the couple stayed together.

I completely understood the bride feeling hesitant. Her groom strangely reminded me of Gargamel from the Smurfs cartoons. He also had a number of raised bubbly moles on one side of his face, he was balding and tall but hunched over. She was gorgeous and he was practically licking her lips when he saw her…

227022_103_gargamelWhen the bride saw him she shut down, still went through with marrying him but then hyperventilating cried with her family about not feeling attracted to him and claimed that she had made the worst mistake of her life. They went on their honeymoon and she was pretty much giving him death stares the entire time and smacking his hand away if he tried to touch her.

But after they moved in together and spent more time together she started to like him – and I did too!! It really surprised both of us. I didn’t see it coming AT ALL!

Especially on my behalf. I think if I turned up to a Tinder date with that guy having seen only a pic of his good side, I potentially would have faked appendicitis and called an ambulance to escape the date.

But he had a really cheeky personality, made lots of bad jokes and he was a really sweet and genuine person. He became more and more attractive to me with each episode. I felt like I was being deceived with the producers deployed some kind of photoshopping to make him more likeable. But no, it was just me falling for him…

So, I’m confused. Does this mean I should go on a date with the most repulsive man I can find on Tinder??

The List – the Top 16

18g6ijri35bpkpng

On the last day of work last year I was driving home with Ms A and we were discussing my dates over the previous few months, the different qualities that each of them had and why they weren’t my future husband.

Ms A attempted to check the guys off against the Top 5 list of criteria that I was asked to specify when I signed up to the Executive Matchmaker, but it had been a while since then and it was stretching my memory to remember what was in the Top 5. I started rattling off things and realised by the 8th item that I could keep going for quite a while.

The original Top 5 was:

1. Intelligent

2. Funny

3. Tall

4. Nice teeth

5. No kids

Which are certainly right up there in priority of what I’m looking for, but seeing the whole Executive Matchmaker thing was rubbish and they clearly didn’t know shit, I’ve revisited the list without the constraint of a 5 item cap and I’ve determined that I need a Top 16.

1. Tall – 6ft plus

2. Funny

3. Intelligent

4. Successful

5. Ambitious / motivated in life

6. Has shit together

7. Would fit in with family AND friends (it’s often been one or the other…or neither)

8. No kids

9. Wants kids at some point

10. 33-42ish (although I previously thought up to 45, that IVF Single Women Sperm Donor session¬†that I went to revealed that a man’s sperm quality erodes significantly from 43, with a higher chance of birth defects etc, so unless he’s got some frozen somewhere to add to my likely frozen eggs by that stage in a few years time…which is totes awks to ask on a first date…it’s probably not going to work)

11. A ‘manly’ man

12. Nice teeth

13. A bit of a foodie

14. Definitely not a vegetarian – pizza with 5 different types of meat on it drives me wild

15. Not a non-drinker – wine is one of my favourite pastimes

16. Non-smoker

I also would like to put ’17. In to cars’ on the list but really, I could probably concede on that fact. If I had to…

At least that gives me the criteria to know for sure when I’ve found my Unicorn – the one that meets the whole Top 17!

Date #3 – The one where we get all hot and sweaty

Date #3 with Mr M happened today. We originally were planning on going out to dinner Friday night, but uni was a killer this week with a few late nights up to 2am reading long winded Harvard Business Review case studies, so I pulled the pin on the date early Friday morning. I hate doing that to someone as I really hate people bailing on me at the last minute, but I was spent!

I had a ripper weekend last week for the Australia Day long weekend so I was already planning a quiet weekend and was pretty free, but he has family here from interstate, so a daytime date today was in order. We have discussed at length how I like to find random fun stuff to do, so when we spoke to line up the date yesterday he said he wanted to check out a few things and let me know.

Later in the day he told me that he’d found something and that I should ‘dress sporty’. Cue, the SeriouslySingle freak out! I do not ‘dress sporty’. My best attempt is probably wearing my black Nikes that have fancy white and fluro coral trim on them with jeans – and I still feel a bit Jerry Seinfeld doing it even though they are black!

jerrrry-1374855056

So I reply ‘how sporty is sporty?’ He replies ‘well you don’t need a fluro headband, but you may get a little sweaty’. Okaaaaay…..

I was kinda excited by the idea of a surprise though and thought it was cool of Mr M to run with it, but it raised so many questions for me. Should I wear makeup? It’s a date so I think yes, BUT on occasions where I’ve stopped off to do the bay run on the way home from work, I often return to the car after an hour of huffy puffy and see Alice Cooper looking back at me in the rear view mirror….

Alice Cooper

Should I wear a sports bra? Ladies, we all know you gotta fight the bounce and as¬†Serena puts it ‘avoid unexpected turbulence’, but sports bras often give your boobs a VERY unflattering shape….

Source: Berlei

But turns out the answer to that question should have been yes. I meet him at his place (out the front of his apartment complex) as its on the way to our secret activity. He is dressed super casual (including lily white legs, yay we both have ‘corpse’ coloured tans…) and comments that I look ‘very pretty’ (with my perfectly straight and bouncy hair which typically magically morphed into ‘best hair day ever’ standard on a day where it will just¬†go to waste…)

We drive a little and he navigates from his phone rather than putting the address on my sat nav in the car to keep me in suspense. He soon tells me to turn right into a big business complex and that we are ‘here’. All I can see is an Officeworks and I ask him if that is where we are going. He says ‘yes, I hope you like stationery’. Actually yes I do! Kikki K and Typo rock my world just a little….oooh how I love a good highlighter!

But no, he says to keep driving. I next notice a Jaguar dealership. One of my most perfect ‘day out’ things to do is test drive hot cars that I have no intention to buy….but I know this guy is into motorbikes, not really cars unfortunately, so I highly doubt that that was even on his radar. He did tell me he liked my car as soon as he got in it though, but I presume that was just because he knows I love my Black Betty dearly.

Further along there is a Harley Davidson dealership. Oh no. My last Harley experience was a joy ride around Uluru a few years back and I hated every single moment. Right up to when in attempting to dismount the bike at the end of the ride, I accidentally kicked the bikie in the back of the helmet, we both fell off and the bike ate the red desert dirt….. Honestly one of the most embarrassing moments of my life! And there have been so many to choose from….

But no, we keep going and wait for it……….we are going trampolining. Yep, I should have worn that sports bra damn it!!! But it’s a pretty cool idea! I’d not even mentioned it to him, but I had been talking about going with Ms K a few months back and we never got there so I was keen to try it out. He has prebooked and already bought us both the special jumping socks, so we sit down with a drink to catch up before we head out.

I do have some hesitation about this as a date activity though. I am not all that coordinated. Ok that is a complete understatement. I once broke my ankle. Walking. It needed immediate surgery, a metal plate, a pin and about 5 screws. Ok, I was drunk, but really I was just WALKING. But on a positive note, that sucker is so reinforced, nothing can stop me now!! Wait, I have two of those. Fuck. Can you get optional ankle optimisation surgery? Those little boney body parts are not structurally sound at all. I digress….

Is anyone still reading?

You just want to get to the good bit don’t you?

Praise the lord for click-bait headlines!

Anyhoo, we get out to the trampoline area and he is busting to go to the foam pit area first. He has been trampolining with his nephew before and obviously knows what the fuck he is doing as immediately takes a run up, does a somersault off the end and lands perfectly in the pit. I immediate regret not crashing the car on the way here. WTF have I done?!? Would he notice if I hid in the toilets for the hour? Shit, 59 minutes left of this….

Oh it’s my turn. Oh goody! How hard could it be?? Seriously. I try to mimic his run off technique and as soon as I leave the solid floor and take my first bounce on the trampoline, which was FAR¬†more bouncy than I expected, I get the wobbles and almost take out the 3 yr old on the mat next to me. Then I get in trouble from the gorgeous 15 yr old staff chick wearing super short shorts (you know, the ones where you see more butt cheek than short….) that is monitoring our safety with her saying ‘I said only one person per trampoline please’. What part of my uncontrolled bounce, flailing arms and girly squeal made you think that that manoeuvre was intentional love?

So I backtrack and legitimately think I can pull this together. I bounce a few times on the mat, then jump in. Ok done! Phew. No lives were endangered in that attempt. But then I try to climb out. Hmmm this is harder than I expected. I’m sinking. My socks are sticking to the foam bricks and sliding off my feet. I get to the edge of the pit to climb back onto the tramp mat, just like I’ve seen the 3 yr old do, but I’m on struggle street! Surely there is a ladder like on the edge of a pool? At this stage I’m trying rather inelegantly to roll out of the pit and over the edge of the tramp mat when I look up and realise that Mr M is filming this on his phone. And pissing himself laughing. I tell him off and dob him in to Short Shorts and ask her to make him stop filming and help me. She actually does give this a go (once she stops laughing at me) but he keeps filming my ordeal for another min or two!

Eventually he comes to help and pulls me out of the pit. So embarrassing. Then we go to the basketball tramps. He attempts dunking. Nails it. I attempt it and hit the net wall on the way down to the ring, bounce off awkwardly and almost smash my face into the ring whilst over-correcting. Honestly, do I have any athletic ability at all? Any?!??

Next we go to the massive area that has about 30 mats joined together. What could go wrong here? Mr M takes off bouncing from one mat to another with ease. I follow, bounce off the first one, land on the second, face plant on the third. Mr M turns around about 10 mats away and sees me face down. Fortunately he didn’t see that particular stack as it was epic, but he gets to share a similar joy numerous times anyway.

I tried, I failed and I cant stand doing things that I’m not somewhat naturally good at and with the hour long session due to end in 10 minutes, I give up. It was a really fun and absolutely hilarious idea, but I couldn’t help but think whilst bouncing on one spot as that was all I could master, that this wasn’t the hot and sweaty activity that many would expect from a third date…

RSVP Sex Stats

Source: RSVP via The Age¬†(note that is a total of 48/49% ok….)

We head off to get some lunch, but we both aren’t really that hungry so end up going for gelato at this awesome place I’ve been wanting to try for ages. We sit and chat for a while (including watching that horrendous video he took of me in the foam pit), but I need to get home to do some uni work and he has his visitors soon, so I drop him home. He asks about my week ahead to see when we can catch up again, so despite my lack of sporting prowess, he still digs me!

Date #4 is on it’s way ūüėČ

You Had Me at Beard

Beard Cropped

I am now into the final term of my MBA which means by the end of March I will NEVER have uni again. There are just a mere 9 weeks between now and me having a social life again. I am beyond excited.

I have set myself a personal challenge to finish my masters with a high distinction, which will mean a buttload of reading over those 9 weeks. So there might not be that many posts from me over the next few months as I will have very little time to date!

But I think I have failed in my other goal of my MBA. When I first started uni I had high hopes that I would meet my future husband there as I would be surrounded by really intelligent, ambitious and gorgeous men. Ok, the last part was unrealistic, but the first two seemed reasonable. I did meet some men that ticked those 3 boxes along the way, but unfortunately they were all already spoken for.

So I have just 9 weeks left now to meet this intelligent, ambitious and gorgeous man to make my $65K degree worthwhile….

And last night I did meet an interesting candidate! The lecturer broke the class up into groups to discuss a case study and when I found my group there was a tall, gorgeous, hairy man in it! Nice move lecturer, very nice….

We got chatting and I soon decided he was also smart. Tick, tick, tick, tick! He was all man and was rocking the bearded look hard. Now, I know many women despise beards and that many men have them just because they can’t be assed shaving, but I really dig them. I’ve always been attracted to a ‘manly’ man, an alpha man, even a ‘blokey’ guy and this one was exactly that, complete with a really deep voice. Be still my beating heart….

So, I really had to focus on gathering up my shit so that I didn’t dribble rubbish whilst discussing the case. Once I did, eye contact was intense between us whenever each of us spoke! Afterwards when we returned to our desks to continue the lecture, I couldn’t help but keep glancing back over at him from across the room.

I knew his name was Thomas, but I couldn’t quite get his surname from our name plates that the lecturer makes us display on our desks during class. I’ve tried stalking him today, but had little success….

But there is always class next week! Stay tuned kids x

The One I’m Glad Didn’t Get Eaten by a Shark

I had plans tonight to meet up with a new guy from Tinder, Mr M. We’d been chatting online for about a week or so, exchanged phone numbers Thursday night after he asked me if I’d like to catch up, then we’d made loose plans to catch up Sunday evening over txt.

I had intended to speak to him over the phone before committing to a date as I like to do the voice test to check if they are a psycho before meeting, but I didn’t get around to it.

We hadn’t locked in a time to meet, but he told me that he was going diving today at Manly until about 3pm. For my non-Australian readers, there has been a recent spate of shark sightings and shark attacks of late, including a horrific attack on a dolphin just a few days ago. Yes, don’t go in the water kids!!! Anyhoo, today I saw a news story about a shark sighting at Manly beach and by about 4:30pm when I hadn’t heard from him, I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he had been eaten by a shark on his dive. It would at least be a fair and reasonable reason for pulling out of our date….

But soon after that thought crossed my mind he sent me a txt asking what time I wanted to meet up tonight. I was feeling a little unenthused about heading out having not long woken up from an impromptu siesta in the sun on the lounge, and I realised that I had only seen one pic of this guy on his profile AND it was a black and white photo. That combined with having not put him through the phone screen yet, I was concerned this was going to be yet another disaster date. Honestly, you are not a rookie here SeriouslySingleInSyd! Get it together!!

I gave him a call to assess if I should pull the pin or not and he turned out to sound quite nice on the phone. We arranged to meet at 7pm at the Sydney Festival Village in the city. Mr M is from QLD and has only lived in Syd for 2 yrs, so I managed to sell it in as an experience he needs to have to be a true local, but really I was just desperate to go try the Messina gelato that look like savoury foods, but are actually sweet delights!

I got ready and headed into the city feeling more excitement for the gelato than meeting Mr. M. This was likely more a reflection for my deep love of gelato more so than my feelings toward Mr M though to be fair. Now I’ve mentioned before how much I despise lateness as I think it displays a selfish disregard for the other person’s time….but I miscalculated how long it would take me to walk to the festival from where I parked my car, so I was going to be a few minutes late…..which I let him know….but then it turned into 12 mins late as I kept getting caught at traffic lights. I kept Mr M updated on my progress and he taunted me with updates that Messina was about to run out of the Royale with Cheese Burger. Arrrggghhhhh running now……

When I arrived it was crazy busy and I was worried that I wouldn’t recognise him due to having seen just that one black and white pic of him and knowing that he was only average-ish height (6 foot). Walking into the festival I saw a rather awkward and unattractive guy standing near Messina and I thought to myself f*ck please don’t be him… So I called Mr M to make finding him easier and he found me immediately. I’m not too sure I would have picked him in a line up, but he was quite nice looking. Phew!

I kiss him on the cheek hello and we take a wander around the festival checking out the bar and food options before choosing a wine bar. We get some drinks and return to Messina as I want to check this ice cream burger out. I had already told him of my paranoia about them running out as I’ve heard that can happen quite early in the evening, so without seeing a sample we join the queue and I’m more excited about this burger than I ever was for Santa. I also tell him that I will cry like a little girl and perhaps even throw a tantrum if they are out of stock by the time we reach the counter. We get there and the two quirky dishes I wanted to try are still available and I am about to lose my shit in anticipation! And it was well worth the build up….

photo-3

Pic: Messina Royale with Cheese Gelato Burger and Not Chicken and Waffles Gelato at Sydney Festival 2015.

We find a table and share both dishes (after he patiently lets me take numerous pics for Instagram) which could have been a little weird seeing we’ve just met 30 mins ago, but meh, it’s ice cream and we are washing it down with booze and booze kills all germs, so it’s all good!

The night progresses with a few more drinks, some amazing chilli fries (yes dinner after dessert) and lots of great conversation. It’s a great date and when we part he is upfront in saying that he has had a great night and that he would like to see me again. I agree and give him a brief peck on the lips and head off on my way. He has sent me a txt by the time I reach the car thanking me for a fun night and saying that he is looking forward to seeing me again.

So the week opened with a date with a douche, but ended with fancy pants ice cream and a gentleman. Gotta be happy with that!

Sharing is caring

As a 32 year old single woman searching for that elusive single male in Sydney that doesn’t bore and/or repulse me, I often retell my dating dramas to my coupled up friends for their amusement.

Yes amusement – often things happen to me that you just couldn’t make up and it eases my pain to share these stories with others!

I also loved reading a great blog about dating in Sydney http://www.huntingforahusband.com which I read over a couple of days end to end. It finished a while back and I have found myself at a loss without it!!

So I decided I’ll give writing my own blog a go and here it is…