or five.
stupid me went on a date, and proceeded to be a total fool.
how do i explain this? i went for a lovely drink at one of my favourite establishments, met a lovely guy, you know the game. we went on a date to my current fave venue on king st, in newtown.
a few drinks in, we decided to go for a nightcap at the marlborough. while we were chatting away amicably, i went for the kiss.
except he stepped back.
i tried badly to recompose myself. after a minute or two, even managed to get the conversation going again. half an hour later, he dropped me off at mine.
i feel like such a moron, but i'm even more confused by the fact that the 'date' continued after my gaffe. i have no idea what to make of this whole thing.
on the up side, it is my first date in a while. maybe it's just like that first job interview after working in a role for years - it's like practice for the serious jobs you want to go for later. or else, it just proves that i truly am a masochist.
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Friday, April 11, 2008
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
I guess this would be the Phil Donahue post
I came across two very interesting situations the other week. I'll try to keep as general as possible, as I don't want to name names.
A friend had her 'mother-in-law' accuse her of being the overly dominant one in her relationship, inhibiting her boyfriend's potential in life. The mother decided to do this at a dinner party, in front of the boyfriend's family.
Another friend, who has been dating a guy eighteen years his senior, has decided to break it off with his 'hot daddy' because he's uncomfortable with the thought of what his parents would think of his relationship - especially given the boyfriend has more in common agewise with them than with their son.
It seems like parents have this outdated model of masculinity they use to measure their children's relationships by. Basically, their son must call all the shots - or at least, pretend to listen to their partner's needs, then make the call as befits their own specific needs. There's no room in this vision for the other partner's goals or needs (if they get in the way of their son's), and their child's partner definitely should not in any way hold any power over their son - whether that be in terms of age, social standing, or financial status.
The thing they tend to forget is that relationships are full of all sorts of inequalities. The disparities in knowledge, emotional maturity, experience (in every aspect of life), income, age, ethnicity or subcultural alignment... whatever. They are what makes the relationship interesting, what attracts us to our partners. And yes, they can result in situations where one partner exerts a dominant role over the other. Maybe it's just the foucauldean in me, but one would hope that in a good relationship, these roles switch at times and reach a general equilibrium of some sort.
I guess the scary thought is that it's not just parents who harbour these assumptions - people will risk their own happiness by accepting them. Sides, provided you have a family, they will accept your partner (in some way) once they realise just how much you care for each other.
(This last point doesn't justify some family members' expectations that their son's partner needs to demonstrate love for their son in order to meet their approval).
Fuck, i'm such a hopeless romantic.
A friend had her 'mother-in-law' accuse her of being the overly dominant one in her relationship, inhibiting her boyfriend's potential in life. The mother decided to do this at a dinner party, in front of the boyfriend's family.
Another friend, who has been dating a guy eighteen years his senior, has decided to break it off with his 'hot daddy' because he's uncomfortable with the thought of what his parents would think of his relationship - especially given the boyfriend has more in common agewise with them than with their son.
It seems like parents have this outdated model of masculinity they use to measure their children's relationships by. Basically, their son must call all the shots - or at least, pretend to listen to their partner's needs, then make the call as befits their own specific needs. There's no room in this vision for the other partner's goals or needs (if they get in the way of their son's), and their child's partner definitely should not in any way hold any power over their son - whether that be in terms of age, social standing, or financial status.
The thing they tend to forget is that relationships are full of all sorts of inequalities. The disparities in knowledge, emotional maturity, experience (in every aspect of life), income, age, ethnicity or subcultural alignment... whatever. They are what makes the relationship interesting, what attracts us to our partners. And yes, they can result in situations where one partner exerts a dominant role over the other. Maybe it's just the foucauldean in me, but one would hope that in a good relationship, these roles switch at times and reach a general equilibrium of some sort.
I guess the scary thought is that it's not just parents who harbour these assumptions - people will risk their own happiness by accepting them. Sides, provided you have a family, they will accept your partner (in some way) once they realise just how much you care for each other.
(This last point doesn't justify some family members' expectations that their son's partner needs to demonstrate love for their son in order to meet their approval).
Fuck, i'm such a hopeless romantic.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Hangover Sunday
Somehow, half of sydney decided to go out last night. It was so mad, I managed to walk from the Barracks to Taylor Square on Oxford st (a distance of a good 500m) faster than the cars next to me.
Anyway, a big result of this is that I have a tequila hangover and am not capable of offering more than some random quips this week.
Anyway, I caught up with a friend of mine at Slide. He was there for the birthday party for a guy I went out with I think on one date, and I can't remember exactly, but he didn't call me back or something, so I thought he was a prick, then he gave me this huge apology a month ago at the Green Park, but I digress. So this friend, J, (aka. not the not-quite-prick birthday boy) has been having this on-off thing with one of those morons who is always chasing after him with flattering text messages. In typical style, the guy never follows through by meeting with him. Anyway, J's confused and hurt by the whole thing, so we just agreed to get drunk. Then he picked up, and I ended up having tequila slams with La Skankalita, his sister and some random ginger.
So, Lily Allen. I'm a big fan of Lily - so are the GFY girls incidentally (like here and here). But I'd never seen the film clip for Smile until this morning. It's fabulous - great for those 'i've just been dumped by you and you're a total prick so i should totally get my friends to trash your life the way you've trashed mine' moments. Check it out:
Oh, and if all else fails - you could just play a game of faceball.
[Barseed: Slide]
[Gofugyourself:Well Played: Lily Allen]
[Gofugyourself:Well Played: Lily Allen]
[Lily Allen]
[Faceball]
Anyway, a big result of this is that I have a tequila hangover and am not capable of offering more than some random quips this week.
Anyway, I caught up with a friend of mine at Slide. He was there for the birthday party for a guy I went out with I think on one date, and I can't remember exactly, but he didn't call me back or something, so I thought he was a prick, then he gave me this huge apology a month ago at the Green Park, but I digress. So this friend, J, (aka. not the not-quite-prick birthday boy) has been having this on-off thing with one of those morons who is always chasing after him with flattering text messages. In typical style, the guy never follows through by meeting with him. Anyway, J's confused and hurt by the whole thing, so we just agreed to get drunk. Then he picked up, and I ended up having tequila slams with La Skankalita, his sister and some random ginger.
So, Lily Allen. I'm a big fan of Lily - so are the GFY girls incidentally (like here and here). But I'd never seen the film clip for Smile until this morning. It's fabulous - great for those 'i've just been dumped by you and you're a total prick so i should totally get my friends to trash your life the way you've trashed mine' moments. Check it out:
Oh, and if all else fails - you could just play a game of faceball.
[Barseed: Slide]
[Gofugyourself:Well Played: Lily Allen]
[Gofugyourself:Well Played: Lily Allen]
[Lily Allen]
[Faceball]
Saturday, May 26, 2007
A touch of the deja vu
Most people know that the first guy I ever dated was a drag queen (hi Oleander!) I joke now that the reason we broke up was that there was only enough room for one diva in any of my relationships, but Olly is a good friend who I love dearly. Lives in a fabulous apartment with his boyfriend in East Melbourne, too, and is an amazing artist (I still have to commission him to paint me something when I've got some dosh).
ANYWAY, the point of this post is that I just saw this in one of my procrastinatory moments - fabulous video of what goes into transforming a boy into a girl (for the night). Check it out:
[Queerty - The Making of a Queen]
ANYWAY, the point of this post is that I just saw this in one of my procrastinatory moments - fabulous video of what goes into transforming a boy into a girl (for the night). Check it out:
[Queerty - The Making of a Queen]
Friday, March 02, 2007
Last Impressions also count...
I've been avoiding writing blog entries for a while. Not because I don't enjoy writing (I do, when I get myself into it), or because I haven't had topics (I have), but because I've been really uninterested in spending my whole time looking back. I'm trying to change my life at the moment (as usual), and am a little concerned that my blog writing has become nothing more than a wallowing exercise.
Which makes this post somewhat puzzling. But it has it's reason - it's here to remind me of the sorts of situations I never want to be in again. Just to quickly recap (film-brochure style):
So, I'm just about to post the email. This is not vindictive - frankly, I think the guy I was seeing has enough issues not to need another one added to the list, and besides I deliberately waited a few weeks before posting this. I guess it's to act as a personal mnemonic device: I've placed it up somewhere to remind myself how not to go about breaking up with someone and
just the sorts of thing that I've been letting myself get in and basically need to avoid.
Anyway, without further ado:
My thought for the day,
The desire to succeed means nothing without the will to prepare!
Funny that, I can so relate.
Babe I really need to talk to you about you and I.
Won’t go to too much detail at the moment but rather face to face as that would be more appropriate.
In brief, you said you ‘didn’t want a weekend boyfriend a while ago’.
Well I feel that may well be the case dating me.
I feel really bad because that’s all I’m able to offer you. I can well imagine you’re probably just as frustrated as I am at the moment and that will be very damaging to our relationship if we continue or rather if I continue doing this to you.
You’re a beautiful souls and a beautiful man and have a huge heart, but I just don’t want to lead you on and hurt you.
Quite honestly, I really love your company, your intellect and your scattiness even more. It’s a constant form of entertainment.
I really believe our intimate beginnings have made for a strong foundation to base a friendship on.
I said that if this didn’t work out I’d still love to have you around as a friend and I still stand by that comment.
I do want you around as a friend.
Hopefully after reading this you too want to maintain a friendship.
I not though, I also understand.
Give me a call or send an email and let me know what your thoughts are.
My immediate thought when I received this? Oh shit, here I am again.
That said, I've been thinking about my approach to life a lot lately. I don't have an answer to it all, but I do have a few ideas. More on this soon...
Which makes this post somewhat puzzling. But it has it's reason - it's here to remind me of the sorts of situations I never want to be in again. Just to quickly recap (film-brochure style):
After moving out of a tedious household situation and escaping a string of morons and commitment-phobs in his personal life, Bads33d decides that he needs to focus on career goals and setting himself up financially before he can consider living with other people or dating someone. Unsurprisingly, within two weeks, he meets someone interesting and proceeds to start seeing him. All is well for two months, until he receives an unusual email one Friday morning...
So, I'm just about to post the email. This is not vindictive - frankly, I think the guy I was seeing has enough issues not to need another one added to the list, and besides I deliberately waited a few weeks before posting this. I guess it's to act as a personal mnemonic device: I've placed it up somewhere to remind myself how not to go about breaking up with someone and
just the sorts of thing that I've been letting myself get in and basically need to avoid.
Anyway, without further ado:
My thought for the day,
The desire to succeed means nothing without the will to prepare!
Funny that, I can so relate.
Babe I really need to talk to you about you and I.
Won’t go to too much detail at the moment but rather face to face as that would be more appropriate.
In brief, you said you ‘didn’t want a weekend boyfriend a while ago’.
Well I feel that may well be the case dating me.
I feel really bad because that’s all I’m able to offer you. I can well imagine you’re probably just as frustrated as I am at the moment and that will be very damaging to our relationship if we continue or rather if I continue doing this to you.
You’re a beautiful souls and a beautiful man and have a huge heart, but I just don’t want to lead you on and hurt you.
Quite honestly, I really love your company, your intellect and your scattiness even more. It’s a constant form of entertainment.
I really believe our intimate beginnings have made for a strong foundation to base a friendship on.
I said that if this didn’t work out I’d still love to have you around as a friend and I still stand by that comment.
I do want you around as a friend.
Hopefully after reading this you too want to maintain a friendship.
I not though, I also understand.
Give me a call or send an email and let me know what your thoughts are.
My immediate thought when I received this? Oh shit, here I am again.
That said, I've been thinking about my approach to life a lot lately. I don't have an answer to it all, but I do have a few ideas. More on this soon...
Sunday, September 03, 2006
i just wanna fuckin dance
I once read somewhere that a hermit who was watching his hourglass without praying, heard noises that split his eardrums. He suddenly heard the catastrophe of time, in the hour-glass. The tick tock of our watches is so mechanically jerky that we no longer have ears subtle enough to hear the passage of time.
Bachelard, The Poetics of Space (p167)
Anyway...I'm trashed. Or trashy. Or something like that.
I'm overrun with time this afternoon, partly because I can't focus on anything long enough to get my shit together. So I've decided to intersperse what is a particularly boring story with random commentary just to give you an idea just how scatty my brain is today.
Whatever happened to getting my shit together?
I stupidly started seeing this guy a few weeks ago.
The fam were visiting, which meant a simultaneously boring and emotionally stunted dinner which - due to the present company of my catholic priest godfather, who decided that after 40 years of living in this country that he can't (and won't) speak english - included such scintillating topics as the priestly ethics course that the Ukrainian Catholic Bishop of Oceania has put into place and that my godfather is now running with a catholic priest from Adelaide.
Hindsight being that lovely kick up the arse that it is, no, I didn't make the obvious joke about altar boys and Father Paddy's (in this case, Father Dimitri's) hair parting actions. (That's what us devout atheists call Taking It for Jesus).
So, of course, when we left the restaurant at 10.00 that night (no pre-dinner cocktails and ONE bottle of red and ONE bottle of white between four adults, AND I was the only person who actually ate all three courses...must have been Lent or something. aren't Catholics supposed to be alcoholic what with all the children and the guilt and everythign?), I was desperate for some human interaction that didn't involve my mother and I pretending to listen to each other's inane chatter.
A few phone calls later, I headed over to J's place in Chippo, only to end up coming back to Oxford St 15 minutes later. Typical.
After two minutes at the Burderking, we grabbed the boys and headed over to Palms.
See! isn't that funny? I just merged the Burdekin and the Burger King into one word, even though they're diagonally across the road from each other. Whaddaya mean, you don't get it? Oh, it's not that funny, is it? Well, I'll just HAVE to continue this story then, won't I?!
J and I seem to spend too much time at Las Palmas. For those who have not had the pleasure, Palms is what you would get if you interbred an RSL, a gay club and a greek tavern then dumped it into a basement space and added (for good measure) a DJ who doesn't mix the music so much as wait for the track to finish before putting the next one on. So of course, it's all handbaggy and trashy. Just the place to go to every once in a while after a house party or something.
Just not every weekend.
Hmm... I've managed to avoid its insidious charms this weekend. Probably a good move.
So, when we arrive, there's this cute guy who bounces up to our friend J2. I accidentally tripped J2 up at some point in the evening when my legs and arms went out to catch him, except my arms didn't move. Must have been the alcohol and residual anger towards my father and godfather. Anyway, bygones.
The cute friend was giving me the eye. You know, the gay version, not the evil one. Except he was there with some guy. Then he started chatting me up and dumped the guy (in front of me, no less) to spend the night with me. I remember being bemused about it at the time, but should have known better than to go home with him. But I did - what goes on at Palms stays at Palms.
Except for that time I slept with that guy that went to school with J, and it turns out he works in the same building as me. Reason #128,954,759 to leave my job, anyone?
Wake up in the morning with a head like ‘what ya done?’
This used to be the life but I don’t need another one.
Good luck cuttin’ nothin’, carrying on, you wear them gowns.
So how come I feel so lonely when you’re up getting down?
So I play along when I hear that favourite song
I’m gonna be the one who gets it right.
You better know when you’re swingin’ round the room
Look’s like magic’s solely yours tonight
This used to be the life but I don’t need another one.
Good luck cuttin’ nothin’, carrying on, you wear them gowns.
So how come I feel so lonely when you’re up getting down?
So I play along when I hear that favourite song
I’m gonna be the one who gets it right.
You better know when you’re swingin’ round the room
Look’s like magic’s solely yours tonight
Anyway, so we slept together. BIG surprise there.
And I stupidly went out with him again. And slept with him again.
Then I left it at that. I wasn't particularly interested, and he seemed a little, well, flighty.
Funny that.
Oh, I forgot to mention that I went to this Madonna thing at Slide at some point in during this whole shemozzle, where they were supposed to play 48 Madoona songs in a row, but ended up playing three at a time, then three other songs, then three more madoona songs all night long.
I bumped into the spunky Croatian doc from a while back. He ended up walking part of the way home with my housemate and myself.
Hmm.. he's still cute and friendly. I think I could really do with a serve of McDreamy.
Anyway, we did end up on a second date, where we ended up at the Colombian with W, a few PR PR people and a sleazy journo who ended up pashing one of the PR PR girls in a really ugly way.
(Can you tell I'm preparing myself for my future career in PR?)
The strange thing was that it turned out he did have a brain, and a creative one at that. Either that, or he was very good at very elaborate lies, because by the end of the night he had charmed me. Then, when we woke up the next morning and he said he wanted to spend more time with me (and not just see me once a fortnight), I was genuinely happy. That was last weekend.
Busy crazy week meant that I didn't speak to him again til Wednesday, when he rang up and invited me to a party on Friday with him. He didn't have the details, but he would call me on Friday morning with them.
I love Fridays. There's something about leaving the office at 7pm and knowing that I have two days to myself that I really really love.
Yes, I did mean 7pm, people. I know I work stupid hours.
But I don’t feel like dancin’
When the old Joanna plays
My heart could take a chance
But my two feet can’t find a way
You think that I could muster up a little soft, shoop devil sway
But I don’t feel like dancin’
No sir, no dancin’ today.
When the old Joanna plays
My heart could take a chance
But my two feet can’t find a way
You think that I could muster up a little soft, shoop devil sway
But I don’t feel like dancin’
No sir, no dancin’ today.
So Friday came round, and I texted him at 9am, when I remembered I had no idea what was going on. I was run off my feet with the fifteen or so things that are happening around the traps so I wasn't exactly checking my mobile waiting for him to ring. Still, no phone call.
At 6.30 I left a message on his phone as I was walking home to let D1 drop off our new (well, not so new, but still) big screen TV. By 7.30, no phone call - the dirty bastard.
So I called W, and went and joined him at the Opera Bar for a friend's birthday drinks, followed by drinks at the Colombian with J and J2 and some random complicated love triangled people (too confusing a situation to understand, just don't ask), and then Kooky.
I haven't been to Kooky for almost five years. It really sucked on Friday, though. I left after the band finished. (The band sucked bad eggs).
I'm breakin' it down
I'm not the same
I know you're feelin' me 'cuz you like it like this
I'm not the same
I know you're feelin' me 'cuz you like it like this
So now, all I want to do is get out and dance. I can't be fucked being pissed off with him, I can't be bothered beating myself up over the fact that blind freddy could see that conclusion coming from outer space, I don't care to slap him across the face next time I see him (as much as he TOTALLY deserves it). I just want to enjoy myself, really.
So I'm just gonna go to the Kylie thing at Slide tonight with some friends and enjoy myself. Even though I enjoyed myself last night a bit too much, what with the vino and the pot and the half-tab (and a fucking strong one at that) of ecstasy at my neighbour's house-cooling/birthday party last night. But that's another story.
Ok, rant over.
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