Good On Paper

Do you ever get the feeling that you are one of those people who might be ‘good on paper’? You know, the kind of person that could sit down and make a list of qualities, which in turn would make anyone think that they had everything going for them? The kind of person who might sound just right for whatever one might have in mind but when put in a position to actually sell themselves (in a figurative sort of sense I mean), they’re all thumbs? Or they have an instantaneous onset of verbal diarrhoea? Or something equally as awkward happens? Basically, when they just don’t cut it? I hate that feeling.

The first time I remember having that feeling was in a job interview. Can you tell me why you think you might be good at the job? Can you describe a situation where you have had to do X? Can you provide an example of Y? Why yes I can. I can probably tell you in twice as many words as absolutely necessary and in such a round about fashion as to possibly make you forget the original question because I am nervous as well! I can even repeat myself in several different ways in an attempt to disguise the fact that I’ve gone straight past eloquently constructed speech, right through to babble. Don’t you lust love it when that happens?

On the positive side though, I ‘think’ I have managed to hide it pretty well. I believe I still come across as quite coherent. Its just that I also come across as rather loquacious at times. And this is not restricted to the work environment either. Oh no. If I encounter any awkward silences whilst out on dates, there is definitely not a competition to see who can fill them first. At least in my opinion. As a result, I’ll sometimes find myself on the receiving end of a blank stare that says there is no emotional connection here whatsoever at the same time as a little voice in my head says - well you buggered that one up my girl. But you get that. Just like you get the times when its not me, it is you.

Occasionally there’s the guy who is smart, attractive, funny, generous, comes from a good family, has great friends, has a nice home and a decent job and the ability to make you wake up in a cold sweat cause you’ve just got to get out of this place. There’s that guy who is both genuine and caring and thinks you’re something fantastic but manages to leave you colder than a snowball in winter because he doesn’t ‘get’ you at all. There are also the bad boys who for some inexplicable reason turn out to be more boring than watching curling. All of them may leave you asking ‘why!’ because aren’t they just what women want? How can it be that they don’t row your boat?

It is inevitable that you will go through life and meet people who you develop little or no rapport with. There are times when someone is just not what you’re looking for and vice versa. Sometimes it takes a rare mix to rock your world and if you listen to most people, it is out there waiting for you. There shouldn’t really be any need to apologise for not turning out to be ‘the one’ but on the other hand, it is always nice to get that rubber stamp of approval when you want it.

I'll Have What She's Having

Well I must admit that I have really been getting into ‘Sex And The City’ recently. It’s the first time that I’ve actually seriously watched it, and what better time to start than after the show has finished and all the episodes are available on DVD. When it was actually on television, it was usually scheduled on a night that I was out or it was on while I was living at the bottom of a very big hill (seriously, I just could not get channel nine in my flat). This Christmas however, along with the other loot she scored, my cousin Cardinal K received the entire collection wrapped up in its own beauty case. And I’ve borrowed it.

In my free time I have been enjoying the pithy humour, the sarcasm and the knowledge that I’m probably a lot less screwed up than quite a few other people out there. I can sympathise whole-heartedly with the characters in some of the storylines and occasionally feel that I definitely could not have put something better myself. Of course since I’m not a sexually gregarious nymphomaniac, there are also parts of the show that I do not find myself identifying with but between the four women, there is usually something familiar. Unlike the suggestions that I might resemble Carrie however (which is largely due to what I choose to write about I guess), I would have to say that I am somewhat more like Charlotte.

For starters, I happen to be a brunette but I have also at times been told that I am a little idealistic and old fashioned in comparison to others of my generation. I don't think I'm quite as emotional as she is but neither am I as out there as the other three. Charlotte, unlike the others, is the sort of girl who is not in your face about her personal life and is often surprised when life presents her with something she really didn’t expect that her friends might have. She is more of a nice girl and is the quiet one that will occasionally come out with something that you least expect. She does hold her own though and she’s a woman who believes in herself and her dreams. She will occasionally compromise some things to make the pieces fit perfectly, but once she realises that she’s really trying to put a square peg in a round hole, she learns from it and moves on.

So apart from the periodically neurotic thing, I could do much worse than being like Ms York. I think I actually display a bit too much cynicism to be considered as having her sweet nature and I don’t trust as easily as she does but I might get there one of these days. I might also get around to having a kick-ass career that I’m passionate about (or a partner that inspires a similar emotion for that matter) but I’ve still got some work to do first. In the mean time, all I need to do is get a much larger disposable income, three gorgeous, single girlfriends and some A-list connections so I can be seen at all the right places. Then I can have it all sorted, just like on TV. On the other hand, I could just enjoy the DVDs while I have them and then get out of the house and live the life I’ve already got cause that’s not so bad either.

Resolutions

Well for better or for worse, another year has passed. I’ve no doubt gained some valuable life experiences and grown as a person but I’m still none the wiser. Unlike last year though, I did not hit the town, tripping around in high heels and sipping cocktails. I didn’t end up in dodgy nightclubs with people one drink away from passing out and I didn’t make the walk of shame home at six-thirty in the morning. Well you sure missed out some of you might think but I’d have to say that I still had a fantastic new years.

Thanks to my friend the Admiral, I saw the New Year in with close friends by the harbour, wearing shorts and thongs, eating cold chicken and sitting in the perfect position to see exactly what the city of Sydney had to offer for the end of 2005 (and technically, the beginning of 2006). I must admit, it was better than the previous year’s efforts too. So maybe it was a sign. Maybe this was the heralding of a better year to come. Earlier in the evening I had been asked what my highlight was, which kind of pulled me up short. Its not that good things didn’t happen but that there seemed nothing worthy of being considered outstanding.

So that brings me to my new years resolutions. At this time of the year, many people make lists and promises to themselves that they have no real intention of keeping. I thought why should I be any different and if I actually put them here, I may just stick to some of them. Such as:

· Drink more water (I figure that this is possibly more realistic than avoiding chocolate and pizza)
· Take more photos (having just bought an expensive camera it would be a colossal waste of money if I didn’t use it)
· Do not go on any more blind dates (they make me more nervous and as the Pussycat says, I’m not dumb enough to do it three times)
· Go out more though (you’ve got to be in it to win it)
· Avoid people I really don’t fancy (why not look for a guy who can induce fainting, breathlessness and the lust-buzz on sight instead)
· Remember some things don’t change (just because someone says it will be different, does not mean it will be)
· Go with the flow more (try not to overanalyse everything or obsess about stupid stuff)
· Take up some sort of dance class (or several of them)
· Save more money (self explanatory really)
· Keep in better touch with friends and family (after all, they do keep me sane)

And so perhaps if I go into this new year trying to get the most out of it, if someone asks me next year what my highlight was, I may have a ready answer for them. On the other hand, I may be able to say I don’t know - it was all good!

Happy New Year

Well after a long absence, I have returned. Did you miss me? Nope. Guess not. Regardless, I thought I might write a note about the following posts. It seems that over the last couple of months, as well as having limited access to a computer and the internet at home, life kind of got in the way. I did however work on at least a few entries and now that I'm here, I have had to post them all together.

And right now I don't have much more to post so I will merely wish you a happy new year and say:
Here's a toast to all who are here
No matter where you're from
May the best day you have seen
Be worse than your worst to come.

And just because this one appealed to the alcoholic in me too:
I used to know a clever toast
But now I cannot think it
So fill your glass to anything
And damn your souls, I'll drink it!
;-)

Young Single Stupid And VERY Alcoholic

It has come to my attention recently (and also somewhat to my dismay), that when I am out with guys for the first time, I might be coming across as somewhat of an alcoholic. In some bizarre attempt to appear interesting and entertaining, any nerves I may be experiencing seem to short circuit my brain and I find myself recounting the time a friend and I managed to polish off a litre of Beam in one sitting, the time I couldn’t find a pain killer so I decided booze might work just as well or the Contiki Tour mornings after the nights before, where buses on steep hills were definitely not my friends.

I recall with fondness the birthday where I quite possibly had more than my fair share of red wine and my flatmate ended up telling me that if I fell over once more he was going to take me home. My memories of that night actually centre around the fact that Mr Flatmate really went above and beyond for me and also doubled as a bodyguard which was amusing at the time, but it doesn’t necessarily recommend my common sense to others. And the thing is that once I start on this slippery slope, I just seem to keep going. Its like watching a car crash. Or maybe a bad movie. I see everything going pear-shaped and hope its somehow going to get better but it really doesn’t.

Its usually about this time that I talk about the work drinks evening after which it probably took me an hour-and-a-half to weave my way home along my accustomed hour-long route, quite possibly due to some extra k’s covered. I might talk about the mad pubcrawl with the Italian Man where we visited around thirteen venues in Melbourne and sampled beverages in all of them, or the Saturdays I spent working in a bar overseas to earn the money I would drink on the Sundays. After this I think anyone is unlikely to believe that I actually don’t imbibe that much. I think thats probably true though.

Many of my friends would attest to the fact that I often drove to bar night whilst in uni and that I will still go out to the pubs and stay on the soft stuff. My flatmates could tell you that I rarely drink at home and that when I do it is for a social occasion. These stories come from years of being over the legal age to publicly consume alcohol but somehow they all seem to come out when I need something to say. Like some sort of social currency, I hope they will ease my way into a conversation but I may just be digging myself a hole. It almost seems beside the point to say that I’ve never passed out, forgotten what I’ve done, regretted something I’ve done or had difficulty standing up straight (dancing is another matter entirely). Maybe next time though I should just say upfront ‘my name is Gauchegirl and I’m an alcoholic…’. At least that way they might think I was being ironic.

Adam And Eve

In case you have ever wondered, there are a number of things that one may do on a warm Saturday night in Canberra. Although for those of you who actually know Canberra at all, you may argue that this is complete bollocks. You may also argue that a warm Saturday night is somewhat of an oxymoron, especially in November, but nonetheless, I maintain that you are not without options. In the land of public servants, never let it be said that they do not provide for their own amusement.

For example, you can go to the movies (as long as you decide what you’d like to see before 9pm). You can sample the variety of bars that fancy themselves as nightclubs (as long as you don’t have an aversion to faux irish and ‘army jerks’). You can also head out to that mecca of adult entertainment, Fyshwick, and indulge in a little late night shopping (even if its only the window kind). This is precisely what I did the other night after pondering the question of what to do with myself. The answer came to me that I should head out to Adam and Eve to buy hooker shoes.

Actually, this answer came to me in the form of my sister who required the appropriate apparel for her new hobby of pole dancing. It was also asked of me whether I would like to accompany her while she bought them but never let the facts get in the way of a good story. I thought what else am I actually doing with myself right now (the answer was nothing), and who knows what I might find when I get there? I must say though that it wasn’t quite as exciting as I’d hoped.

We had perhaps arrived in the quiet period that might come between the late afternoon browsers that are finishing up their day or planning for the evening and those who hadn’t yet begun their evening and required entertainment. There were not many shoppers around and what struck me (apart from the children’s corner with the Finding Nemo DVD) was that most of the shoppers were single women or couples. There were no festy men to leer at me over the stands and imagine me either inside the clothes and accessories on display or outside of them.

Not that I actually fit into the clothes and shoes anyway. It seemed that a lot of what was on offer was made to fit women with medically enhanced bust lines and anorexic feet. So was all this just another opportunity lost or not best managed? Well I don’t really think so as I’m not at all sure that a porn outlet is the best place to meet men you’d consider taking home to your mother but on the other hand, should I ever need to whip someone into shape, I now know just the place to call into first.

The Cup

For anyone who doesn’t live in Australia, let me tell you that the first Tuesday in November is the day of the race that stops a nation. Regardless of the weather, thousands of people flock to tracks and TABs across the country, and to any other venues providing coverage of the Melbourne Cup. On this day, all eyes are on the pretty fillies and their handsome competitors, each groomed to look their best before they initially parade around for show. The spirit of challenge and anticipation is in the air as the participants all compete for the spoils that the day has to offer. And then of course there are the horses.

I actually think that the horses are more of an excuse than a reason to let loose on Cup day but why not? Everyone who’s anyone, is decked out in their Sunday best and I personally feel that not enough males realise they show to great advantage whilst in a suit. Women in turn wear dresses and shed androgenous garb eagerly in favour of looking more feminine. My fellow sisters also go to great lengths to prove that millinery as an art is not dead and at least more often than not, they are successful. This day is a day about beauty, wealth and winning and what could be more attractive than that?

Unlike New Years, which seems a holiday associated at least in part with couples, or the family oriented celebrations held over Christmas and Easter, Cup day happens to be perfect for singles. The alcohol flows both frequently and early enough to provide ample opportunity for picking out a winner. You can also show yourself off to the best advantage (there is no such thing as being over-dressed), for the adage of ‘if you’ve got it, flaunt it’ definitely epitomises the general attitude surrounding the Cup. If there is any disadvantage it is only that there may be a little too much competition going on.

Occasionally crammed into confined spaces, the atmosphere everywhere is frenetic and bursting with noise and colour. If you’re actually out at the track there is Fashions In The Field and other means of exhibitionism and wherever you may be, there will always be crowds around the bar and the bookies. There is the air of desperation that surrounds those over-anxious for good news and the carefree who-dares-wins philosophy that sees normally cautious people throw all hesitation to the wind. Whether you bet a bank note or a bank balance, fortunes can change in the blink of an eye and many live purely in the moment.

Unfortunately for some, the final outcome of the day is not always everything they’d hoped for. The ‘sure thing’ and the ‘safe bet’ are often not what they seem and taking a gamble does not always pay off. On the other hand, it is entirely possible that you might come up a winner. For myself I’d have to say that I am still unsuccessful in the love stakes but hey, I did win a few bucks.

Memory Lane At The RSL

I think if you were to ask someone whether they wanted to be stuck in a room for a few hours with a bunch of their exes and/or old crushes, they’d probably look at you as though you’d grown another head and announced you were running away to join the circus. You may be faced with a certain level of incomprehension, as you couldn’t possibly be suggesting that this might be a fun way to spend your Saturday evening!?! Ask someone whether they’d like to attend their high school reunion however and you get a bit more interest.

Admittedly, from my recent experience, there were those for whom a night like this would hold too much potential for heartache and embarrassment. For those of us who could laugh in the face of such adversity however (or who thought we looked a damn sight better now than we did then), it seemed the night might hold more potential for hilarity instead. And hilarious it was, at least in parts. Some of my peers had definitely proved the adage that you don’t get older, you get better. Some on the other hand, still couldn’t seem to find their own backside with both hands and a flashlight.

Fortunately I discovered that I hadn’t actually fancied myself infatuated with anyone that I wouldn’t admit to now (although who I would admit it to is another matter entirely). I think you’re probably supposed to have been head over heels for at least one embarrassingly unsuitable person while you were growing up but it seems I never quite got the hang of that. Over the years that have passed, I have gotten better at a few things however, and one of them is apparently talking to people. My partner in crime at the event seemed completely dumbfounded that I could now just approach people I was not ‘friends’ with in school.

Approach them I did though and I had to laugh as I informed a couple of guys that they actually had an adoring fan club full of girls at school ready to swoon at their feet. They of course had been oblivious to this at the time and I’m not entirely sure they believed me now but it was amusing. I talked with the people who as it turns out, only showed up to see who was fat. Oddly enough, I didn’t think that was amusing at all. I chatted with people who I wish I had been better friends with when I lived in the same city as them and I found out that perhaps I wasn’t quite the wallflower I always thought I was.

I now have it on good authority that I was actually 'kind of attractive' in high school, even with the braces. I should also point out here that I have it on the same authority that I am now ‘hot’ as well. I have a feeling that both comments were somewhat alcohol induced, coming as they did after much of the night and the consumption of what I’m sure was a variety of beverages, but I must admit, it stroked the ego nonetheless. So all in all it was a good night. You might say I got a little less out of it than my friend Charles but if I’m single by the time the next one comes around, you never know your luck in a big city.

The Beer Myth

Well I’m sure that this might be very distressing news for a few guys out there but I wanted to tell you about some recent findings made at the University of Vienna. Apparently, contrary to popular belief, beer goggles don’t work on girls. According to studies undertaken by Andreas Mittermair and his team, ‘alcohol makes a man seem even less attractive to a woman’. It seems that men and women, both intoxicated and sober were asked to rate pictures of the opposite sex in terms of their attractiveness and ‘without fail, drunken men rated girls several grades up the ladder’ than others who were sober. Women on the other hand graded lower whilst under the influence.

Who would’ve thought? For years, many an Australian man has believed that if he could just get enough booze into a woman, he would miraculously turn into her Prince Charming and thereby be seen as an incredibly attractive man worthy of a bit of bodice ripping or some such. Research however, which puts a downer on so many things at times, now tells us this is not so. Boys, getting your date drunk will not turn you into Tom Williams no matter how hard you try. It may just leave her seeing someone who looks a little more like Tom Jones though. Which is not necessarily the end of the world I guess unless thats not the look you were going for.

What I did notice about the article was that it didn’t say an awful lot about the other effects of alcohol on women. It didn’t talk about the impaired judgement or the loss of inhibition brought about by overindulgence. It didn’t comment on the fact that women might make decisions that are seemingly out of character or that they may later regret these decisions. The article merely mentioned that ‘it has long been known that women do not have the same obsession with looks as men and are more interested in other qualities like personality’. And the fact that being drunk makes them find men less aesthetically pleasing.

So that may sound weird coming from a girl. It may almost sound as though I am recommending alcohol as a means to seduce women, which I’m not. Partly because I really don’t think much of it as a tactic but also because as this study suggests, it doesn’t always change perceptions in the guys favour. Despite the common belief that all women are solely devoted to appearance and looks, this is not the case. They are important but so are personality and compatibility. As it has also been said, men need a place but women need a reason. So guys, if you’re looking for that reason to be because you’re one hot stud, you may be best served hitting the gym or the fashion department before you hit the bottle.

Classified Information

What is it you might want to know about someone before you get into a relationship with them? What their taste in music is? What they usually do for entertainment? Whether their personal style is more hip & happening or cool & laid back? Or perhaps whether they actually could give new meaning to the word disorganised? And what better way to find this out than by approaching them in their natural habitat and finding out for yourself? It may sound like a weird way to find a date but I’ve heard far stupider ones than to go through the share accommodation ads.

Lets face it, when you are out in public, you don’t have to worry about that Immaculate Collection CD that sits right beside Megadeath Greatest Hits on top of the stereo at home. You don’t have to be concerned if your bathroom is overdue for a clean. You don’t even have to be anxious if you are currently unable to see your bedroom floor for all the clothes and towels that you’ve used in the past week. In fact, if your out, you won’t even be thinking about these things but they may make all the difference to someone else.

Sure, if someone knew they were advertising for a flatmate and would be getting strangers through their place, it would be possible to tidy up beforehand and hide whatever they felt might be incriminating evidence. More often than not however, people do not alter the appearance of their home drastically for visitors and one would be able to get a decent sense of another person by seeing how they live. And not only do you get to see someone in the surroundings where they would be the most comfortable, you also get to ask all those annoying get-to-know-you questions without it seeming like a personal inquisition.

Are you single? Do you generally stay at home? Do you go clubbing? Do you play sport? Do you read? Are you easy-going? Are you the sort of person I could easily count as a friend…These are the sorts of things that you can find out either by checking out their pad or by asking them. You would probably find out more than you could in a crowded bar as well. It is definitely a situation where there isn’t really any pressure to ‘pick up’ and you would probably have their undivided attention away from prying friends. Would I try it myself though? No. Would I recommend others try it? Well I’d have to say also no.

Personally having been on the hunt for a prospective flatmate to move in on a few occasions, I can vouch for the fact that it is tiring if you wouldn’t consider them and somewhat annoying if they are the one who won’t consider you. Having read someone else’s account of having actually done it though, I can appreciate the method behind the madness and see that for some there might possibly be a few advantages.

Coupling

I must say that I’ve been a little stuck for inspiration of late. I’ve been getting a bit tired of the whole dating game, somewhat bored to boot and if I was in Germany I would say that I am full - although the translation doesn’t seem quite as effective in English. Anyway, I did find myself sufficiently motivated to write about a theory I recently heard (which is kind of related to relationships) because it made me laugh and demonstrated what I thought was some lateral thinking.

Basically, it came out of an episode of the BBC series Coupling. One of the guys was advising his friend of the potential faux pas you might encounter when you initially get naked with your partner. He first enumerated on the ‘sock gap’, which he stated many men have fallen victim to in the past. This is the point at which men should remove their socks as well as their pants and shoes but frequently fail to do so leaving them totally, for want of a better word, overdressed (which translated into a dumping offence). He then went on to outline ways of avoiding calling out the wrong name in the heat of the moment (which was also amusing in itself) but it was this that led to an alternative explanation for celebrity marriages.

It seems that the frequency of celebrity marriages can be explained by the amount of people who are fantasising about someone who is not their partner whilst having sex. Because of course everyone does. The explanation went like this:
Well, you know, if you fantasise about someone else during sex and so does your partner, and, you know, those two people that you’re fantasising about happen to meet while you’re still doing it, you know they’re bound to sense something aren’t they? Because they’re connecting on like a virtual plane. So, can you imagine what it was like when Posh first met Beckham? They were the epicentre of a non-stop, nation-wide, virtual shag. Yeah! I mean its no wonder she got pregnant.

And if you think about it, its not such a crazy idea. I’m not prepared to put it out as gospel or anything but I’ve met people who have a lot of faith the Jungian concept of a universal consciousness. This rationale is merely a slightly new spin on it. Its also kind of amusing to imagine people actually tapping into something like that (pretty much because I could see how you could make a piss-take of it, but you get that). I’m sure there are also a lot of celebrities who would like to believe they are not entirely responsible for making bad marital decisions and who knows, stranger things have actually happened.