by Lucky Lucy | Sep 5, 2012 | Uncategorized |
I was discussing trends with my classes today and it got me thinking about the trends in my own life; specifically the trends in my dating life.
Unfortunately this trends analysis led me to some alarming conclusions.
Drawn from my single-life experiences over the past seven years, these trends show I do not possess the qualities that men find appealing.
My evidence indicates that men do not want a woman who:
- can support herself financially and isn’t after their money
- is honest and says what she thinks
- shows that she has emotions and will talk about how she feels
- likes having sex
- is affectionate
- is reasonably attractive and presentable
- looks after herself by exercising etc.
- is intelligent
- has her own interests and is happy for a man to have his own as well
- isn’t co-dependent
- is well-travelled
- is articulate
- is educated
- has a sense of humour
- etc.
- etc.
So. What are my conclusions? Well firstly, this analysis has clearly explained why I am still single. Secondly, it seems to indicate that to be more appealing to a man I should do the opposite of what I’ve been doing so far.
This means I should:
- go on unemployment benefits and look for a Sugar Daddy or millionaire to support me and/or ask men to submit to a financial audit before dating them
- play head games, mess men around and generally not show who I really am
- have zero reaction to any emotional situation (robotic-like would be a good goal here)
- hold out for several months before having sex with a man and pretend not to like it when I finally ‘give in’. (Clearly any enthusiasm in this area is a no, no. I know the man who once told me to, ‘Just lie there and let me…you’ would think this is appropriate.).
- play the role of ice queen wherever possible. Behaving like touching a man is the equivalent of touching radioactive waste is probably a suitable approach.
- stop showering every day, refuse regular haircuts, abandon all hair removal activities and make ratty tracksuits my daily attire
- abandon any and all exercise activities
- act stupid, have no opinions and stick to safe subjects like the weather
- text my partner every five seconds when we’re apart, throw a tantrum when he wants to hang out with his mates and insist on accompanying him to ‘boys nights’ at the local pub before dragging him home early to a night of no sex
- stop getting stamps in my passport
- stop talking
- pretend I can’t spell
- stop laughing at the ridiculousness of life
- etc.
- etc.
Mmm. What a shame I can’t do any of those things.
I guess I’ll just have to stay single.
Ha!
by Lucky Lucy | Aug 19, 2012 | Emotional, Men, Single, Uncategorized |
I had coffee with an old school friend today. We hadn’t seen each other for almost two decades but Anna* still looked the same. She looked great.
We talked about what we’d been doing, our work, our families and everything in between.
And of course, we talked about the men we have cared about, married, lived with and loved.
I was a bridesmaid at Anna’s first wedding. We were both in our early twenties and it seems like another lifetime ago.
Anna has married twice more since that day. And each time she married a man who treated her badly and betrayed her trust. She deserved better.
A lot of people might have given up after her experiences. They would declare they hate men and feel nothing but anger and resentment towards them.
But not Anna.
Anna is a romantic optimist. After each experience she has dusted herself off, somehow got through the pain, and then moved on to look for, and often find, love with someone else. She hasn’t given up on finding a man who will treat her well and love her.
But as 40 rapidly approaches and with some bitter experiences in her past, Anna has a good idea about what she wants in her future . She also has a good idea about the kind of man she wants to be with.
Anna and I might be attracted to different physical attributes and interests when it comes to men but we are looking for some of the same qualities.
We both want a man who loves us as we are. He must be someone who would never ask us to compromise on our beliefs or our personal goals.
And, most importantly, we want a man who has his sh!it together. That means they must know who they are, what they want and where they’re going. If they’re insecure, confused, drinking too much, taking drugs, flaky, or still entangled with an ex, they’re no good to us. Yet.
Unfortunately, it’s the ‘yet’ where we come unstuck.
Anna and I (and I’m sure almost every other single woman), have at least once hung on and hoped that if that one man we cared about (let’s call him a generic Anthony*) could just get it together, then we would be deliriously happy.
So we’ve waited. And waited. And then sometimes waited some more. After all, being a romantic optimist means you sometimes have to play the ‘long game’.
We’ve even deluded ourselves sometimes and said that we’re not really waiting at all. But we are. We’re not taking any other man seriously because we really believe that Anthony will get it together; because we want him to; because we believe he can; and because we care. We care way too much.
Sometimes our wait is rewarded and Anthony gets it together. He calls up and says, ‘Hey, I miss you. I’ve got it together now. I know what I want. Will you give me a chance to show you?’
But usually he doesn’t get it together. And he doesn’t call. Or he just goes off and gets it together with someone else.
And then we feel really stupid. And hurt. And the romantic optimist in us dies just a little.
But we always get up again. We never really give up hope. We are optimists after all.
I still believe Anna and I and all the other romantic optimists out there will meet the right man for each of us. And yes, he really will have his sh!it together.
In the meantime, our search continues.
* All names have been changed to protect the innocent, and not so innocent.
by Lucky Lucy | Feb 8, 2012 | Dancing |
A baby gave me the ‘once-over’ when I was in the supermarket last week. You know the once-over, it’s that look people give you as they sweep their gaze from your head down to your feet and then back up again. Women are appallingly good at doing this look. It’s their way of assessing whether you are potential competition or someone to be pitied and/or disregarded.
Anyway, that’s the look I got from a big-headed, blue-eyed baby looking over his mother’s shoulder.
And yes, I admit that I was wearing my workout clothes and I probably could’ve made more of an effort with my appearance but seriously, it was just Coles. And since when did babies learn how to give someone the once-over?
Anyway, after that I slunk down the pet aisle to get some kitty litter (yes, I am a single woman with a cat) and then left. Clearly it wasn’t my day to be out in public…and I was getting paranoid about babies.
I got a couple more ‘looks’ on Saturday when I went out in the Valley.
The first was from some guy who spent most of his time watching me when he was obviously on a date with the woman dancing next to him. Every time I looked up he was trying to make eye contact. Then I was trying really hard not to look at him but of course he was dancing a metre away and kept moving into my line of sight. Gah!
And then he gave me a high-five when I gave the brush off to some random bloke who thought it was acceptable to come up behind me, grab me by the hips and bump up against me.
To both of these men I say, what the…?
My friend and I left the club soon afterwards. Honestly, we probably should have left an hour earlier when they played Tina Turner’s, You’re the best. The DJ at that particular club is always a bit random but Tina? Really?
Anyway, we ditched the strange men, tried to erase the Tina-experience from our memories and headed to a new club just down the street.
It was while we were lining up at the entry that I got my second ‘look’ of the evening when the bouncer checked my ID.
The fact that all bouncers now check for ID is as ridiculous as it is embarrassing. Ridiculous because they check the ID of people who are clearly well above the age of consent – what for I don’t know because they are likely to forget your name as soon as the next ID is thrust under their nose. And secondly, embarrassing, because they look at your ID, their eyebrows shoot up and disappear into their hairline and then they thrust it back into your hands as if it is contaminated. At least, that’s what the bouncer did to me on Saturday night. Clearly I was older than his usual clientele. Thanks for the ego boost buddy – nice one!
Once inside it quickly became clear that I was probably one of the oldest people in the room (okay, I was definitely one of the oldest people in the room). But, I love to dance and refuse to restrict myself to gyrating in the kitchen to Craig David so there! (Please imagine me sticking my tongue out now at anyone who thinks I should have been tucked up at home in my jim jams instead.)
It also appeared that I was a little underdressed. A few years ago everyone dressed down but now it’s all high heels and short dresses. It’s just like the eighties again.
The eighties spring to mind because the club was called Hot Gossip. The original Hot Gossip in this town closed in the nineties and has since been revamped as a Showgirls venue where the girls wear skimpy clothing and do things on poles (or so I’m told).
Hot Gossip was the first club I ever went to and it would have been apparent to everyone that I was way too young to be there (looking younger than my age now is a bonus, back then it was a curse).
My friend K, who looked far more mature and glamorous than me, talked the bouncers into letting me in (she was a regular). I remember a dark club full of Colombians, drinking Tequila Sunrises (stop pretending you don’t remember that classy cocktail) and sharing a pack of menthol cigarettes (they tasted awful but we were cool, okay).
So there I was just over two decades later in the new Hot Gossip looking at these beautiful young things and feeling a little old and underdressed. But the music was fantastic and if there is one thing I love more than anything, it’s dancing.
Of course, a few years ago I could dance in my stilettos all night. But by midnight-ish my knees were starting to give way and I was afraid I might seize up completely if I stopped moving; frozen forever on a multi-coloured dance-floor that looked like it came straight out of Saturday Night Fever.
I kept going though. I wasn’t going to admit defeat. My heart and soul was determined to dance, even if my body was crying out for mercy.
At the same time, I confess I did look at the beautiful young twenty-somethings around me and indulge in a very small moment of melancholy for that lost decade. Sometimes I feel like I wasted my twenties being sensible, responsible and wanting to be taken seriously.
Perhaps my time would have been better spent out in the clubs dancing the night away, getting drunk, having fun and sleeping with strange men? After all, there was plenty of time for being sensible much, much later (actually, preferably never).
Then again, I think I’ve made up for a bit of lost time in my thirties. And the fact my little sister told me a couple of years ago that I “was supposed to be the responsible one” is probably a good indication that perhaps I’m not quite so ‘sensible’ anymore.
My melancholic moment at the club was very short-lived and I had a smile on my face when I poured myself into a cab a couple of hours later.
I may be part of the older crowd in the Valley but I still know how to shake my bootie baby!
I might wear lower heels next time though.
by Lucky Lucy | Jan 27, 2012 | cringe, Emotional, memoir |
One of the most difficult things about writing a memoir is rediscovering the things you have tried hard to forget.
And when your memoir is focused on your love life, well, let’s just say some of the moments you uncover definitely make you uncomfortable.
I wouldn’t say I regret some of the things I’ve done. But I do look back and think, ‘Oh my God, did I really do that?’
Did I really have a fling with a guy who later turned up to work with a mo-hawk? Did I really make a pass at my boss? Did I really obsess about that guy for more than a year and think about putting notes on the windscreen of his car?
And did I really tolerate truly appalling behaviour from men who clearly did not deserve my consideration in any way?
The answer to all these questions and many more, is a resounding yes. Oh my, the physical cringing I feel as I write this. It makes me shudder.
But, there is one thought that comforts me. That is the knowledge that most people have similar cringe-worthy skeletons in their closets. If you have lived life then you have definitely had experiences (let’s not call them mistakes) and they have made you what you are. You just wouldn’t want them plastered on the front page of The Courier-Mail.
We do usually learn from our ‘experiences’ and evolve accordingly. But, sometimes you only realise how much you’ve grown when you look back at your past.
Today I had coffee with a colleague I knew years ago. I can still remember us both sitting there at our desks, slightly tearful as we navigated the trauma of recent breakups. We were not in the best emotional shape. Actually, I was a basket-case and she was little better.
But today we are in very different places. She’s happily married to a wonderful man she met on-line and I am the happiest I can ever remember being. I guess we’ve both learned a thing or two.
So, although I sit here cataloguing my experiences and cringing at the embarrassing activities of my past I know there has been a reason for it all.
So bring on the cringes of the future…I’m ready!
by Lucky Lucy | Dec 27, 2011 | Uncategorized |
I’ve had three married men hit on me this month. Well, two were married and one is just in a steady relationship but you get what I mean.
When it happened for the third time a few days ago I came away thinking, maybe it’s me, maybe I just have a sign above my head that says ‘Slut and ‘ready for anything’!
I don’t of course wear that sign so don’t try looking for me on the street. But that’s how I felt.
I talked to a male friend tonight and he thinks that fifty percent of men in some age gropus will cheat. Fifty percent!!
He went on to say that men probably go looking when they’re ‘not getting any at home’ and a psychologist he heard years ago had the right idea when she said women should just ‘put out’ to their men to stop them straying.
Oh. My. God.
It’s not the 1950s people!!! But does he have a point?
I seem to recall a recently published female author promoting very similar ideas. Put out because your man needs it and that should be enough for you…and hey, you might even enjoy it.
Mmm. Is it really that simple though? Are men that basic?
I know many people reading this are nodding their heads and saying, absolutely yes. And that would be a very simple answer wouldn’t it? You could package up infidelity nicely with a bow and serve it up with a simple solution. Just put out.
The trouble is, I don’t think it is that simple. I think that men, like women, are motivated by a whole range of emotions and situations. Sure, some may stray because they’re ‘not getting any’ but others will stray because that’s just what they do. It’s the conquest for them, or they have a low boredom threshold or they just think it is an acceptable form behaviour. Others will cheat just because the idea of being fully committed to one person is just too terrifying so they prefer to cheat before they are cheated on. And so the list goes on…
Let’s face it, I think alcohol is also responsible for a whole range of cheating that would not otherwise have happened. Just think about it…your partner is somewhere else (in another city, another country, at home or down the street) and you’re drunk and you let your guard down then WHAMMO! You’re naked. You hear about it happening all the time. You probably have had it happen to you.
Of course, for a single girl none of this is news is encouraging or uplifting. Based on my experience of life so far, my observations of others and my male friend’s perspective I should be aware of the following: half of the male population will cheat; if I am in a relationship with someone I should just ‘put out’ whether I feel like it or not; and I should never allow my partner (or myself) to drink more than one glass of alcohol in a night.
This is one of those moments when I think that perhaps it is wiser to be single than to ever attempt monogamy again. It is easier and more straightforward.
Unfortunately, being single is not going to save me from being propositioned by unavailable men.
Perhaps I’m just screwed. And not in a good way.
