Monday, April 30, 2007

CUB's vs FUB's

C.U.B. - Cashed - Up - Bogans

Tradies and other manual workers, Small Business Owners with no University Qualifications. Early School leavers. Working Class, Blue Collar, Trade Union Supporters. League Fans, Ute Drivers, Holdens and Fords. Greyhound owners. Flannel shirt wearers, Up the sleeve with a pack of smokes. Howyagoing, luv.

F.U.B. - Frozen Urban Blokes

City Types, Professionals, Nice Manners, Suit Wearers, Good Schools, Rugby Union. Liberal Party, Huge Mortgages, European Cars - NorthShore Holden = BMW. Labradors and Cockaspoodels. Country Road and Ralph Lauren. Good straight teeth. "Sorry, must take that call". weekend workers.

'Should have married a plumber or builder' is the new cry from the professional working poor. Those who are moaning the cost of replicating their childhood lives of big homes, private schools and holidays in the sun. Marriage to a Lawyer, SuperSmart Accountant or Stockbroker does not augur well for financial freedom.

It's the tradesman as the desirable one. The on-demand renovation desire has created a new sub-species. Sucessful Bogans.

The 80's was the Lawyer, the Partner, the LA Law bespoke suit verbal warrior, as an ideal husband. The 90's was the Money Market Man. Mysterious Hedge Funds and whispers of massive bonuses. This decade is the Tradesman. The transformer of backyards, kitchens and creator of nifty space savers, particulary walk-in-wardrobes.

I've dated through all these decades. Barristers, Lawyers, Stockbrokers, Engineers, Money Market Traders, I.T experts. They freeze up on commitment. Ever so well mannered. Fork and knives in the right place. Suits all beautifully cut. Take them anywhere, but not up the aisle. Not as enlightened as you might think too.

Now is the time for the CUB. the tradesmans charm, the cash-only man, the small to medium business owner with energy, sucess and is on-demand vocationally. They are interested in Plasma TV's, boats, simple holiday cottages and have no sense of cutlery.

The Coach is more CUB than FUB. strangely have only seen him eat with chopsticks. Don't know when our next 'meeting' is. I asked him if we can stop talking about work more about personal stories next time. He smiled with that horribly appealing eye twinkle and said, "yes! and on a couch too."

astro note: he is capricorn x 4. sun, moon, merc, and venus.

randomness

I usually wake from broken sleep and scribble thoughts onto my notepad. If it's dark, I'll use my mobile phone light to scratch the ideas. My little moleskin notebook is then tossed into whatever handbag, dived for at cafe's and traffic lights to further the day's relationship question & answer.

I left my notebook in the seat pocket of the plane. They can't find it. It may take weeks of flying around the world before someone finds it deep in the pocket. Or maybe not.

Over the trip to FNQ, Liz and I discussed ideas and I had to quickly find another notebook to start over. Here are some of the conversations..(before I loose this one)

What fills you, as a single person, with dread? a wedding? christmas? company functions or holidays. It seems fun at first to be unemcumbered, to float around a room, flirt, drink & talk to whomever. Then the events start being too random in entertainment. It would be nice to know a guaranteed person to attend these with, someone to capture the thread of life's events.

What makes you angry? Jewellery was my answer. I once bought a Tiffany &Co necklace, a nice little Elsa Peretti piece, modern and daily appropriate. The hideous witch I worked with commented 'it would be so much nicer if a man had bought that for you'. With that one sneerful comment she embedded a life time of voice data to my new necklace. I had honestly never heard of such an idea. Only a man can buy you jewellery? what of the gifts from parents, relatives and the inherited items? isnt' love the imparting emotion of jewellery. I love my necklace & hope it turns into a cherished 'aunty cat's' necklace story.

Finally over Mai-Tai's by the pool, came the big discussion. Why are we still single? Am I dealing with prior-life karma? do I still need to be single for some reason ? are there any more bloody lessons to learn? I'm as ready as anybody can be. Just in case I continously purge my house/ office/ handbag & car boot of extraneous objects in case 'hoarding' is spoiling my relationship feng shui.

so it's to Miles Franklin, for a final word on what I'm looking for in a partner.

"...it would be one who could put his finger on some hidden spring in himself and in me and in grand fusion reveal the fullness of life."

astro note: miles franklin: sun & merc - libra. Moon, venus, uranus-virgo. Saturn - aries.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

I tried

Sometimes you can do everything right and still fail. The best bit about getting older is you don't take the knocks so personally.

Event: Advertising boys having a combined birthday party.
Location: by the harbour
Theme: rock star

Great friend Nicole wore all pink, because she was Pink. I choose the strapless cocktail number and did Cyndi Lauper, with less make-up. My new FNQ tan would enhance my shoulders and bust in the outfit, a boy-catching outfit, I thought. My new dressing strategy is to look more feminine, show off the female bits, but not too much. More Scarlett Johansen than Paris Hilton.

I used eye contact, chatted to people, danced and wiggled, only had a few champers, got introduced to various single boys....but nothing. The biggest group of men were in the corner smoking dope & drinking jugs of beer.

We called it a night before 12, happy to dress up, go out & generally be 'out there'...but if he's not there, he's not there. And anyway, sometime a good night's sleep is more enjoyable.

Avoiding superficiality

I'm falling into the superficial conversation trap. Why do I have such great discussions with my female friends, ranging from issues on The West Wing, diatribes on best bakeries to life, the universe and rabbits: when I talk to blokes it so banal. so boring. Its all so nice. When I try to deepen the conversation..their eyes glaze over..conversation comes to a grinding halt, like talking to a mule. So you try to stick to conversations they are excited about... sports, holiday plans and whatever is their current passion. I accepted long ago you are rarely asked questions about your life. More evolved men will ask, socialised ones will too. I think it's just polite to have a bit of to & fro with conversations.

back to superficial.

I saw The Coach last night for easy meal in Chinatown. We both picked better this time and really enjoyed the fragrant meals while the rain poured down outside. (does is rain everywhere in April?) he's really sweet, has lovely sparkly eyes (probably because he doens't drink) but all we talked about was work. Which is a valid part of any conversation, but not all of it.

So I'm trying to stop this pattern of being superficial in conversation. I want it to deepen without resorting to 'twenty questions' style or asking any 'where is this going' demands.

Starting with 'can I ask you something personal...?" as the entry to these ideas.

  • In the last 5 yrs of your work what are you most proud of?
  • What made your last relationship good, was it similar interests or such ?
  • What qualities do you like in a woman ? that's she's similar or different in which ways?
  • Where would you like to be in 5 yrs time both professionally and personally.
  • Are you a dog or cat person?
  • What's your favourite pizza toping?
  • Tell me something naughty you did as a child.
  • When you're cleaning the house, do you sometimes start singing 'whistle while you work' ?
  • What should we name our first born ? (only kidding!)

I've learnt from the Catalyst show that doing something exciting, adrenaline producing, does bring you closer together. I find some conversations can be exciting in this way too. let's see if I have the guts to go deeper.

Sunday, April 22, 2007

56 Days

Birthdays are huge to me no matter which age I am, I feel the clicking of time and life. I used to count the days from my brother and sister's birthday to mine, which was yesterday, it's 56 days. This year I'll be 40, so these 56 days are weighty.

Discussions are underway about the party. Being slightly wealth-challenged, I'll have it at home. Not easy in a 2 bed flat with my brother and his fiancee living there too. But I love the squashy party feel. The noise level of so many people conversing. Added to this, it will be the middle of winter (Im in the southern hemisphere, don't forget) and for Sydney this is about a 12deg night. So the theme is Russian Winter. Vintage Furs are required, Vodka shots and coal fires to be warmed by. My gorgeous friends are all offering to help decorate and prepare food/ cocktails.

Not being morbid, but situationally, I've been single on each of my important birthdays - 21st, 30th and now 40th. I'm not sure I want to start seeing someone before then, the pressure of an early relationship and then an important birthday is loaded. There is a strange dance of expectation on birthdays in the early stages. Firstly you have to tell them you have a significant birthday coming up, but emphasize there is no pressure. All your friends and family are celebrating and yet there is one eye on the new love interest. It's both a familiar and unfamiliar situation. Can he handle the attention just on you? can he be left alone amongst all your family, and what qu's will they ask ? Oh well, I've got 56 days to find out what will happen.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Fantasizing

I can't Fantasize anymore. The mental pictures you allow yourself to have when you meet someone. I don't mean the naked lusty one: they can be had just visiting the beach or pool or wherever you see nice male torsos.

It's the life-with-someone- fantasy. How you imagine a good partner will be, the together feelings, the companion thoughts, the things you can do together. You have a mental picture of one who will work best for you, prehaps a fellow cheese lover, or outdoor enthusiast.

You start mentally picturing life together when you talk, he'll tell you of holidays/ activities/ great experiences and you'd love to be there too. Then you hear about work or friends or family & it all sounds good. You can see yourself in that world. Equally he is interested in you, that look he gives of both softness and interest, the look that says he 'gets you'.

You explore more of life's desires, there is agreeance on places & spaces. Prehaps he is companion for all this. So you start fantasizing. The nesting thoughts, the easy company thoughts, the cheeky thoughts..you can see yourself doing that with this bloke. The rarity of this experience heightens this fantasy...finally someone to daydream about, someone to fill in the void.

Slam on the mental brakes! the hardest part is pulling away from the fantasy, it hurts more than the physical. Flesh pain is resitant, the mental life you've created is harder to repair & recover from, when a relationship, on the verge of becoming something, fails to start.

I like The Coach. He sent me a message last night. I'm still on holidays here in FNQ, back in a few days. Will look forward to seeing him again..but there are no fantasies. I'll just deal with what really happens, if it does and when it does...reality is the new reality.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

F.O.S.

We all need it sometime. Similar to an S.O.S. Today Liz & I headed for FNQ, we had decided to F**k Off Somewhere. None of this mini-break palaver, this is about a head-space shift for the tired sydney-sider. A get-me-out-of-here shriek for an antidote to current life.

Far North Queensland is about 3 hours flying from Sydney. It's a great Somewhere. I came here 6 months ago for Mum's significant birthday and loved all the different things you can do. The reef, the rainforest, the tropical heat and thunderstorms, the fruit & fish.

Tomorrow is white water rafting. We will get seriously wet, scream our heads off & sleep like deflated rubber pools afterwards. Sleeping tonight is also aided by pink bubbles consumed at lunch, followed by DVD of 'Wall Street' found for $9.99 at Coles. Dont' want to tax my brain watching something new.

Also sorting how I feel about The Coach. Searching for someone never seems to take a break.

This is what White Water rafting looks like. 3 in the water, and the others laughing as they pull you in. I'm one in the water. Heaps Fun.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

The Coach

The new name for MrUltra fit/ FitManly (it was getting too confusing) is The Coach. We went out last night for a quick meal. I found out he doesn't have a kitchen in his city apartment. Something to do with cheap rent and close to his work. Which means having a cheap easy meal is something he needs to do regulary.

He also doesnt' drink. So I skulled a vodka shot before I went out.

So bizarre. The other year I had 6 dry dates with the Marathon Runner, until we got plastered one night. We had to as it wasn't going anywhere while sober. But this is different. The Coach is used to being sober. Unlike me who starts to twitch and I get sleepy early on..the alcholic sugar keeps me awake. The Coach is naturally talkative and cheeky. We made a few jokes, walked around the area and it felt nice, not an enforced sobriety, brought by over indulgence, but an easy, dare I say, healthy feeling of enjoyment.

Without thinking to much about it, my downfall activity, he jumped down from a ledge while putting both hands on my shoulders, his body contact was powerful. He has a strength emanating from him, a radiating warmth. I was kind of shocked. Have I not felt someone's body contact for such a long time ? It struck a brain cell and wouldn't let go.

We bought some cakes after dinner. The benefit of not drinking is you can have dessert. He's not a scary fit person, he eats sweets and doesn't look annoyed at junk food.

So after dinner, I dropped him home. There we were sitting in my car, I was just laughing to myself at the similarity of my last billion dates where I drive them home and it gets down to the car for the pash. Keeping my foot on the brake, the car was bum out to the hilly street, while he pointed out his building etc, and he leaned in to say goodnight...the lips locked, the pash was short but nice. Just enough. Look forward to more.

Friday, April 06, 2007

High Maintenance

To me High Maintenace is about grooming. Having super straight hair, seeing a beautician for every need, and more annoying, being worried about your appearance instead of enjoying the people you are with. That's not me.

So was suprised to come across an old magazine article where a certain accessory was deemed 'high maintenance'. 100 men were asked to rate a date's clothing. Bare shoulders, plunging necklines, dangly earrings and silver shoes were rated highly. Ra-Ra skirts, stripey dresses, white boots and long thin scarves were not attractive. In one of the six pictures analysed, the nicest looking girl, to me, carried a large hangbag. A large modern printed carry-all. Kind of like the one I use. Huge, fits everything, the kind other women ask me where it's from. My women-envy bag.

Bulky Bag " She's high maintenance ! it looks like she's porting her life around with her." - was the comment.

Does a small bag evoke freedom? Out last night was new mother, Sonya, she was brandishing her small shiny clutch, a welcome relief from baby and sticky fingers. I could see her small bag symbolised her lack of responsiblity, her freedom gained temporarily.

remind me to switch bags before I go out.

Bad Date Karma Places

There are a number of pubs in Surry Hills, all re-fitted to modern inner city standards. Last night we chose The Dolphin, instead of the usual Clock or the White Horse which sits inbetween these two, all 200 metres apart.

While walking past the White Horse with its Italian metal horse sculpture on top, I was reminded of a fatal date I had there a few years ago. As I left the flat to go out, the current flat mate yelled out, "Oh, the White Horse, not a good place to meet a date, it won't work out." "why?" I asked, "They just never work out, It happened to me and a few others." The date was with MrBalconyView, our first, it didnt' work out & I was left to handle the after effects of that infatuation for another few years.

Last night, of the three pubs, the White Horse, was the emptiest. Not because it's a designer space or more expensive drinks, but I think it's a Bad Date Karma Place.

The Hollywood Hotel, a pre-war style pub, in the wrong part of Surry Hills is my pashing pub. You get good snogging karma there. The lighting is dim, the bands sometimes too loud or silly, so you end up snuggling up to your desired. Squash & Pash.

Do you have favourite places to take someone ? or do others consistently create the wrong vibe? don't leave the night to chance..! take heed the location vibes and choose well. Pash or Dash.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Profiling for a mate

When you list yourself on a dating site or attend relationship -finding events, you're generally asked what you are looking for. By being specific you think you'll get exactly what you ask for... tall, educated, well dressed, likes Duran Duran etc. Some profile questions you can be relaxed about..

Here's what I go through when selecting


  • Age: 37- 43 (don't like them younger, dont' want them that much older)
  • Height: at least 5ft 9in (I'm 5ft 6.5)
  • Education: university level ( I have a bachelor and post graduate)
  • Music: must like 80's
  • Smoke: no
  • Drinks: yes. (excessive drinking is no longer attractive !)
  • Food: meat, yes. (no vegetarians)
  • Body type: medium, fit, athletic (no fatties, no man boobs)
  • Ethnicity: caucasian. (Been through the Italian/ French/ Argentanian stages.. not interested, not even English/ scottish/ irish guys. I like aussie blokes.)
  • Star sign: virgo, libra, leo are best. dont like sag or cap & aqua' are weird. everything else is fine. cancer can be sulky.
  • Dressing: hate sports sunglasses, those velcro-walking sandals, rugby jumpers except at the game. everything else can be changed.
  • Relationships: would prefer a not married/no children background, but divorced is okay and so is' has kids but with the mother mostly' is okay. (I'm softening)
  • Political: has views, but not too radical or too right.
  • Religion: christian. (to be honest it's easier they are same, would prefer catholic, but any christian will do)
  • Sport: must like exercising. If he's a swimmer, even better. Not a soccer, AFL or rugby league fan. More off the couch than on, for sporting interests.

this kind of self-selecting profiling is detrimental, because really I like blokes who are active, interesting, dynamic, well-mannered, nice looking/ well preserved, but not pretty, will try something, not afraid of different foods or cultures and can be taken anywhere & will get along with most people. doesnt' suffer fools and boring people.

and what I've just selected is not necessarily going to help me find what I've just described.

Right now, the bloke I dated the other night wouldn't fit that self-selection..he left school at 15, likes working class sports (soccer and league), is same height as me, is older than I think he is, is wrong star sign, but he's worldly, interesting, dynamic, adventurous, hard working, no kids, and many other things better suited to me, but not profile perfect. Scarily I wouldn't select him based on some criteria, such as education, yet he's top of his field and well respected.

lesson learnt: don't be too worried about self selecting.

finding the fit man

A few years ago I saw Elizabeth the psychic. Many things dont' make sense but she did mention stuff about TV & Films which is now true. I have focused on the few keys things she said about the next bloke, as you do.

The description was 'nice partner coming into life, caring, fit, kind. nice family. A boat, dogs, 2-3 children, you'll live near water - not in sydney, he'll have ppl in Noosa."

Since then, never in my life have I gone out with so many fit blokes. There's been marathon runners (he'd run to get the car the next day after big night out, a handy skill) , rowers, 6am gym maniacs, the surfing physiologist, a pentathete (the horses and archery kind) and now the fitest of them all, a motivational coach & fitness book writer, MrUltraFit, called for a catch-up.

All of them want to live near water, all want to buy boats... it's like a package, once they are fit, they want the other bits.

So the Ultimate Fit bloke, the one I kissed for a bottle of wine six months ago, emailed to catch-up. We meet in Chinatown for a quick meal, ended up talking until they cleaned up around us & stacked the chairs. And guess what? he just bought a boat, and is off up the coast to his dad's holiday house, you guessed it, by the water for the weekend.

Blog-versary

One year since I started this ! now I'm 130 posts down, the tv show has aired...but still no man.

In my obsessive astro way, I look for reasons why. I'm constantly looking at astrology sites to see what the stars are doing to my Gemini life. While I thrust myself into more embarassing dating situations, well, I now hardly blink at speed dating now...I just find it exhausting & RSVP is time consuming. I fantasize about someone parachuting into my life and getting entangled in the trees outside my bedroom. Then I think about drag-queen Paul's Dad who was caught in a parachute and couldn't have kids, so I scrap that idea. (the answer to this puzzle is Paul is adopted)

I think one day I'll wake up and be in a relationship & it'll feel like it always existed.

Pluto is to blame for my lack of relationships. I just listened to Jessica Adams' podcast on Pluto the planet of Control & Power. Apparantely it's been in my relationship sector (7th house) since 1995, and it's about to move to the house of finance and business. It completely mucked up my relationship house, like some over staying backpacker, preventing any other interesting guests staying. It's been a party pooper. So I had to be strong, get rid of this unwanted guest by exposing it, like some vampire to light, by blogging my relationship life & going on tv & doing ridiculous things like speed dating.

The pluto monster is now headed for my 8th House (of business & commerce). Best to vacate this house to the pluto beast. that's a good excuse to stop working!