Come Here Often?

I have an admission to make - I've joined an online dating site.

*pause for stunned silence*

When I first moved here, I was all gung-ho about meeting new people, and you know... getting out of the house. Since that time, I've met a group of rad gals, started having stalls at the Made With Love Market Bazaar, and done other stuff. I became complacent about meeting more people, because, well... there's only so many cool people that my brain can take.

However, once I went back to Sydney and remembered what it's like to go out on a regular basis, I want more. MORE! And what is an efficient way to meet lots of people, and try and weed out the toolbags in the process? Why, that would be internet dating.

*pause for gasps of awe*

One of the things I like about this method is that I get to fully embrace any superificiality that I may have. It turns out that I have a lot of it. Too short? Denied. Enjoy wood-spinning? Denied. Can't spell? Denied.

It reminds me of one of my favourite Scrubs quotes:

Carla: What does your heart tell you?
JD: My heart hates uggo's.

Cruel, but funny. And ever so slightly true.

I take a delicious glee in reading profiles and laughing. I read a cracker of a profile today, and this guy was talking about how modest he is. And charming. And charismatic. And fit. So fit. His modesty ran on for several paragraphs, and it was like watching a car crash. Every sentence hurt me more, but I just couldn't stop reading. Or laughing.

There's an apparent lack of awareness about capitalisation, spelling and grammar (you know, those things that them posh people get into), and this bothers me but also makes me take a vicarious pleasure from having read your profile and dismissed you because of it. I will not accept cheap imitations.

Another thing that causes instant dismissal is wanting to treat "your lady like a printcess" (that person was so damned close to spelling princess right). Firstly, I swear too much to be considered a lady. Secondly, there are far too many guys out there wanting to treat someone like a princess. Tiaras don't suit me, pointy hats aren't my thing, and... well, I'm not a damned princess.

I also think that more people need to put a bit of thought into their screen names. goodlover105 was obviously already so aware of his own skills, that he didn't need me to tell him. As for anybody with the word "horny" involved in their name - I'm not even good with seeing public displays of affection. That is WAY too much information for me.

So far, it's been interesting, and I'm only a few days into it. There have already been toolbags doing their toolbaggy thing in my direction, but I kindly said a few sharp words, and deleted them from my contacts.

If only it was that easy in real life.

Stay posted for more internet misadventures.... Do you have any advice about this? Or your own success/epic fail stories?

Flyover

Ok. I’m back. Sydney chewed me up and spat me out, but like a lightning strike victim I am piecing my shattered life back together. I may still have nights where I wake up screaming though.

So things didn’t QUITE go according to plan (like the day where I fell through my Mum’s front verandah), but I still had a few good moments. And for the other moments, I just got drunk. It helped.

Lunching in Leura - I spent a lovely hour or two with a friend in a bakery in Leura (in the Blue Mountains). We spoke of friends, life and philosophy. And when I say that WE spoke of philosophy, I mean that he did. My brain turned around halfway through this chat, and said “Sarah, you’re on your own here.” My reply to a very well-thought out statement on my friend’s behalf was therefore, “Wow. That’s deep man.” I ate a really nice pie though.

Going to Coles in Katoomba - For those who don’t know, Katoomba (also in the Blue Mountains) is a very alternative area, full of hippies, left-of-centre folk, and a reasonable amount of pot smokers. My friends and I went into Coles to pick up our pizza ingredients, and rocked up to the check-out. I was holding their baby, whom the check-out chick immediately started cooing over (this kid is going to be an absolute heart-breaker), and asked whether he looked like Mummy or Daddy. Without thinking, I looked across at the bub’s Mum. The check-out chick looked between us, looked startled, and then abruptly told us the amount owing. It wasn’t until a moment later that I realised that she’d thought that I was Mummy #1, and my friend was Mummy #2. We left the shop, cracking up laughing. That’s what people get for stereotyping relationships. Hmph.

The best hangover breakfast ever

Being a nerd in Westmead - I went to a drink’s night at a mates place, and we ended up staying awake most of the night (long after all of the soft people had already gone to sleep), talked about nothing, and watched internet videos. We also quoted a lot of cartoons to each other, amidst gales of laughter. I love being a nerd sometimes.

My birthday - And the point when I decided to change my birthday. My actual birthday ended up being not such a great day. Which is difficult. I like birthdays. It was MY day. How dare it not work according to plan. Following this, I came to the conclusion that there is far too much pressure on you to have a great day. Things happen. It’s not always possible. I therefore made the following week my birthday, and it worked out fabulously. I had let everyone know my plan, so there were still a few people who wished me a good day, and I got to pick all of the good moments as my memories for my twenty-somethingth birthday.

Drinking champagne at Sydney airport - My aunty and her partner picked me up from the airport when I arrived, and greeted me with a bottle of champagne. We stood in the disgustingly hot carpark, drank champers from crystal glasses, and raised them to any and all passersby. The only downside to this is that I was fatigued, hungry, and 2 glasses of alcohol went straight to the chatty part of my brain. I hope that my aunty has learnt her lesson.

Playing arcade games in Penrith - My friend and I frequented the local arcade, and I kicked his ass at air hockey. A short story, but it was a very satisfying moment for me.

Receiving compliments - I’m not going to be modest here. I received a lot of compliments, and it was great. People commented on my hair (kudos to Michelle for making it fab), my clothes, and even my complexion. The only negative part of this is that I’m thinking I must have looked pretty shit before I moved. I think one of my friends summed it up best by saying, “Before you left you wore black. And had black hair. Now, you have red hair, you’re wearing floral, and you have a TAN!” I know in my heart of hearts that Tasmania was definitely a good move for me - I'm emotionally 100% better than I was before, and it was nice that other people noticed it as well.

Wow, that's deep man.

Getting cosy at Krispy Kreme

Gill and her Valentine's Day present

I'm Leaving On A Jet Plane

Damn it. I forgot to pack my plastic hair-protection unit.

I think. I'm leaving on a plane of some sort. What's the difference between a plane and a jet plane?

Anyway, I'm leaving tomorrow to go back to good old Syd-er-ney town. This week I've been able to curb my propensity to giggle hysterically, which is good. I've been working on that. The only downside to this is that for 2 weeks I'll be having what the cool kids are calling a "blog-cation", and won't be posting anything (unless I manage to stealth someone's laptop while I'm gone).

I've been packing over the past couple of days (Michelle calls me anal - I prefer the term relaxation-challenged), and have been thinking about the things that are absolutely vital on a trip. Of course, there's always the requisite underwear, pj's and toothbrush (which then just makes me think of Tim Ferguson flailing himself around a bad television set), but what about the things that you really need just to keep you from stabbing the annoying person sitting next to you on the plane with a spork?

MP3 PLAYER

Please note how I didn't say i-Pod. I do not own an i-Pod. I do not want an i-Pod. I have a Samsung MP3 player, which, even though the skip button has broken and I can no longer skip tracks that I put on there for reasons unknown to me, and EVEN THOUGH I lost the driver for it so I can't change what's on there, I like it. Plain and simple. I don't need to get all fancy about this stuff. The only thing that occasionally gets to me is that I must have been going through a big metal music stage when I put stuff on there. I don't think that people appreciate moshing on planes.

BOOKS

I read books. A lot. It's part of my day-to-day life, and I feel quite bereft if I don't get a chance during the day to disappear into someone else's world, however briefly. And how am I supposed to get to sleep without reading first? How?! It's madness, just madness. I've read some fantastic books lately, that I highly recommend for any trips you may go on (even if it's just a trip from your bedroom to your lounge room - take one of these books with you).

Yep, there's a gimp on the cover. Please don't let this deter you (unless you're into gimps - in which case just roll with it). I've been getting into more books with men as the main protagonist lately, and this is a great example of one of them. Honest, amusing, and using more than a little bit of black humour, this is a cracker of a book (as long as you don't mind the occasional use of words such as "gimp mask" and "spanking paddle").

This book kind of reminded me of Bridget Jones's Diary (a book that I reread the other day. I love it). It's not written in diary-form or anything, but the main character is fantastic, and easy to relate to. She's says what you're thinking, worries about the same things, and still maintains fantastic humour. Definitely worth a read, with a great happy ending. But not the sort of happy ending that you might get after a massage at a dodgy massage parlour.

Another male main character, this book actually skips between 2 guys. It's really well done, and shows the difference in thinking about the same issues. I'm actually doing a terrible job in talking this book up... It's a fantastic book. It's funny. Please just get it. Read it. Thank me later.

HAIR STRAIGHTENER

Ok, so this has nothing to do with your likelihood of stabbing someone. Unless they make an unfavourable comment on your hair that you've been battling with to behave itself. Western Sydney is VERY humid at this time of year and my hair has issues on the best of days, requiring 24-hour adult supervision. Humidity is not my friend. As well as my trusty straightener, I have also packed various restraining devices such as hairbands, bobby pins and a kerchief. I don't want to scare the natives.

And that's all I can think of.

So, until next time, I wish you a fond goodbye. Thanks for your support so far, and not making fun of me. I appreciate that. I hope that you keep well and safe, and I will inundate you with crap when I get home.

Tally-ho!

Just Get Your People To Set Something Up With My People

My photo frames are famous - they made it into the local paper! Oh, I did too. And some of the other Made With Love girls.

We're legends in our own lunchboxes. And it feels just grand.

To see the full-size article, go to the Made With Love fan page on facebook.