Once upon a time in a land called Friday Night at a Bar a princess called Paula (me, henceforth called I) was getting drunk by sipping (skolling) cocktails and then later beer. Yes I am one classy dame.
It was at this Bar that I discovered that all of my friend's mates came from a strange far away land where all the men were most hotly, most kindly and most...well...single. A very coveted prize indeed for the Princess or me or I, well all of my personalities really.
I was most intrigued from whence these men came from and why they had not found their maidens fair.
So being the nosey bitch (couldn't translate that to princess speak) that I am I had to find out why and so on my quest I went.
It was upon this quest that I discovered that we princesses can be most foul indeed. You see no longer do we stand by and let the men dictate what they want but instead we do a little demanding of our own. Cinderella is out and the Ugly Sisters are in my friends.
So what do we demand? Well many things.
A big grand castle.
A big grand horse (car).
A big grand job (to pay for horse and castle).
And a big grand horoscope.
Yes you read right. Now on the checklist of every maiden fair is the horoscope that will match your own.
But can this be right?
On my quest I met a lovely man from the strange far away land and he told me the story of the horoscope and how it has become a deal breaker (again princess speak is tough). I was shocked, amazed and horrified at my fellow princesses. Would Snow White have ever been that cruel to reject a Cancer if she was a Leo? (Because there is no question she was a Leo.)
So I asked, "Well what star sign are you?"
"I am an Aquarian."
Now at this point of the fairytale I would love to tell you that I didn't have a clue what he was talking about but I would be a lying princess.
You see I love all things star signs. I am a Scorpio after all and it is part of my sign to love all things mystical.
I also knew that as a Scorpio I was not compatible with an Aquarian.
I tried my best to seemed shocked at the brutality of these woman who had broken his heart because of the time of year when his mother had burst him from her loins (is loins where we come from? Seems to fit so will leave it).
I realised that maybe I too was guilty of such an act but maybe on my princess checklist it would have been:
Do you like big grand pizzas
Do you like big grand horror movies
Do you love wearing big grand pyjamas
And what star sign are you
Although I have to say that had he answered yes to number one I would have made him my prince there and then (I also would have accepted "Hello my name is Adrien Brody")
So is it okay to reject someone because of when they were born? Well of course the answer is no but if he doesn't like pizza then it is a deal breaker.
The End.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Speed Dating for Dummies
A friend recently enquired if she should go speed dating, to which I replied why don't I tell you about my speed dating experience and then you can make up your own mind.
So here is a little story of how Paula went a speed dating one day (night).
Probably my first mistake of the night had not to do with drinking too much champagne (although I would get there eventually) but rather with my choice in speed dating friend. You see she was more like a Greek Goddess than a real life girl and so what hope did I have walking in the room with that? Well none really. I was just grateful someone wanted to come with me.
The bar we went into was small and dark (awesome, although I was hoping my newly formed blind pimple wouldn't glow in the dark).
Nearly everyone had arrived and we all mingled at the bar holding our free glass of champagne like it was a life buoy and we were in the middle of the ocean. No one was saying anything. It was awkward. I looked around and tried to see if my future husband was in the room and there were some potentials. I wondered why no one was talking, so I asked the girl next to me - who looked like she had stage makeup on and was about to sing "Sweet Transvestite" from Rocky Horror.
"Why isn't anyone talking?" I tried not to stare at her face and looked at her heaving cleavage instead (better).
"It's because everyone is saving their best conversation for when their date starts."
"But we only have seven minutes. Surely there is plenty of good conversation to be had?"
"You would be surprised."
Hmmm. I was uncomfortable by the silence and everyone was looking at me now because I had started a conversation.
So in my best public speaking voice I said, "As if we can't start talking now! Seven minutes is not enough time people. Let's get to know each other now!"
I was officially in a zoo and everyone slowly backed away (including my friend) because no one wanted to be with the talking girl.
I nodded to myself, then my champagne so I didn't look stupid (good move) and said under my breath "sorry" as I backed away too so I was now part of the circle that moments before I was in the middle of.
Never fear because suddenly there was a very loud gong and the speed dating had begun.
Us chicks got to pick a table and the guys had to move around. For this I was grateful as I planned to drink as much champagne that the bar had and sitting down would allow for graceful drunkenness.
A gentleman sat in front of me, there was another loud gong and we were off like greyhounds in the wind.
Let me just say that seven minutes can be a very long time in the scheme of your life when you are stuck in the cone of speed dating.
I suddenly learnt that even I, the girl who talks too much, too often, too loudly and without consent was at a loss for words.
It was like pulling teeth but without the string attached to the door. There was nothing quick about it. I can't even remember the conversations. All I thought was...don't these people do things or if not can't they just make it up?
There was one guy though. He was cute. He was in publicity and loved films. He liked pizza (well every guy loves pizza so that doesn't really count) he liked to travel and...well really he could have said anything. He was the best out of a bad bunch.
He told me he wanted to see me again and when we filled out our forms (which you do at the table with the guy right there...talk about covering your test sheet) we both openly ticked "yes" we would like to see each other again and the dating agency would pass over our details.
I left the night feeling fabulous and not caring that I was not a Greek Goddess.
My friend called the next day to ask how many matches I got and I said I hadn't got a call yet. My friend had gotten eight matches. Wow! My dream boy included.
I rang the agency and asked for my results. "What is your name?" "Paula." "Paula did you fill out a form with the guy's names on in?" "Umm...hello I didn't go through that pain for nothin'!" "Okay well Paula we don't have a sheet for you. Did you write your name at the top because if you didn't we would have thrown it away."
"OF COURSE I PUT MY...hang on...actually I didn't put my name on the top."
Oh crap.
Speed Dating = Write Name On Top Of Your Sheet.
Now you are all experts.
So here is a little story of how Paula went a speed dating one day (night).
Probably my first mistake of the night had not to do with drinking too much champagne (although I would get there eventually) but rather with my choice in speed dating friend. You see she was more like a Greek Goddess than a real life girl and so what hope did I have walking in the room with that? Well none really. I was just grateful someone wanted to come with me.
The bar we went into was small and dark (awesome, although I was hoping my newly formed blind pimple wouldn't glow in the dark).
Nearly everyone had arrived and we all mingled at the bar holding our free glass of champagne like it was a life buoy and we were in the middle of the ocean. No one was saying anything. It was awkward. I looked around and tried to see if my future husband was in the room and there were some potentials. I wondered why no one was talking, so I asked the girl next to me - who looked like she had stage makeup on and was about to sing "Sweet Transvestite" from Rocky Horror.
"Why isn't anyone talking?" I tried not to stare at her face and looked at her heaving cleavage instead (better).
"It's because everyone is saving their best conversation for when their date starts."
"But we only have seven minutes. Surely there is plenty of good conversation to be had?"
"You would be surprised."
Hmmm. I was uncomfortable by the silence and everyone was looking at me now because I had started a conversation.
So in my best public speaking voice I said, "As if we can't start talking now! Seven minutes is not enough time people. Let's get to know each other now!"
I was officially in a zoo and everyone slowly backed away (including my friend) because no one wanted to be with the talking girl.
I nodded to myself, then my champagne so I didn't look stupid (good move) and said under my breath "sorry" as I backed away too so I was now part of the circle that moments before I was in the middle of.
Never fear because suddenly there was a very loud gong and the speed dating had begun.
Us chicks got to pick a table and the guys had to move around. For this I was grateful as I planned to drink as much champagne that the bar had and sitting down would allow for graceful drunkenness.
A gentleman sat in front of me, there was another loud gong and we were off like greyhounds in the wind.
Let me just say that seven minutes can be a very long time in the scheme of your life when you are stuck in the cone of speed dating.
I suddenly learnt that even I, the girl who talks too much, too often, too loudly and without consent was at a loss for words.
It was like pulling teeth but without the string attached to the door. There was nothing quick about it. I can't even remember the conversations. All I thought was...don't these people do things or if not can't they just make it up?
There was one guy though. He was cute. He was in publicity and loved films. He liked pizza (well every guy loves pizza so that doesn't really count) he liked to travel and...well really he could have said anything. He was the best out of a bad bunch.
He told me he wanted to see me again and when we filled out our forms (which you do at the table with the guy right there...talk about covering your test sheet) we both openly ticked "yes" we would like to see each other again and the dating agency would pass over our details.
I left the night feeling fabulous and not caring that I was not a Greek Goddess.
My friend called the next day to ask how many matches I got and I said I hadn't got a call yet. My friend had gotten eight matches. Wow! My dream boy included.
I rang the agency and asked for my results. "What is your name?" "Paula." "Paula did you fill out a form with the guy's names on in?" "Umm...hello I didn't go through that pain for nothin'!" "Okay well Paula we don't have a sheet for you. Did you write your name at the top because if you didn't we would have thrown it away."
"OF COURSE I PUT MY...hang on...actually I didn't put my name on the top."
Oh crap.
Speed Dating = Write Name On Top Of Your Sheet.
Now you are all experts.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Date 2 - Armageddon
Okay so before you get settled into the saga that is my life, I would like to draw your attention to the fact that this post is in fact a sequel to the post below. So be a dear and read that first (unless you are awesome and have done so already, which means you actually read my blog and for that I am very sorry or I am in love with you. You decide.)
So here we are.
Again.
(Look if you skipped the first paragraph because you are lazy then bloody well read it would you!)
Before you accuse me of being insane for going through this again I would like to say that it was all peer pressure and yes Mum I would jump off a cliff because I am part lemming on Dad's side.
So let me catch you up. Wait I have already done that. Twice.
So I agreed to meet Gary* again and not to be fooled, like last time, I was ready for this date. I got a facial, waxed appropriate areas, considered a fake tan and then unconsidered and even washed my hair. I was ready! I also put on some clothes, which is always handy in public.
This date was to be in daylight and whilst you might think that just coffee would be more appropriate, I happened to think that straight vodka may work better. So back to the same pub we went.
I walked in and the whole place looked at me. Yes I was looking sharp.
At this stage I should let you in on a little secret. You see all that waxing and almost tanning was quite frankly because it needed doing and had nothing to do with this date.
Prep that did go into this date was pulling out all of my make-up from high school and choosing my best shade of blue eyeliner and pink eyeshadow and laying it on. Heavily. My lipstick that started out green and turned blue when applied finished the look and I noticed complimented my left elbow quite nicely.
I then crimped my hair, did a side pony tail and put on...well just jeans and a t-shirt (nothing from high school fit).
So what did Gary do when I sat down? He smiled and then a small bit of drool came out of the corner of his mouth.
"Oh Paula! You look amazing! How did you know I love Tiffany? Honestly how good was her song "I Saw Him Standing There?!"
Once again this guy, now formally Gary, had floored me.
"Yes, I love Tiffany too." Truth is that I do and was just a little bit chuffed that I now resembled her. (Google if need be for reference. Done? We progress.)
"So Paula after our last meeting I have to say I have not been able to stop thinking about you. You are definitely one of a kind and now...this..." He touched my crimped hair and I wondered if maybe I should have told someone about our second meeting time and location.
"Yes well, I too have been thinking about you quite a lot but I have a feeling that it may not be for the same reasons."
"Oh Paula, there you go again with your witty repartee. You really are something special."
I could feel my pink eyeshadow moving over into my frown lines as I looked at Gary with worry.
"Well Gary given that this is now our second date and I feel like things are moving really well for us, I think the time has come for me to ask you some questions to see if you are my perfect match. So hope you are up for it."
"Paula I think that anything less would be a crime." (Umm...okay.)
Did I mention when I walked in I bought six straight vodkas and was now up to my fifth? No. Well now you know, so stop feeling so neglected.
I needed them for what was to come. You see I was prepared this time!
I opened up my list and began.
"So Gary you are in a snow storm..."
"Paula I am going to stop you right there. Are you sure there is a storm already? I mean don't I mention the storm if that is what I feel?"
"Gary I am going to stop you right there. These are questions that I am pulling out of my ass and means absolutely nothing whatsoever to anything. So should I continue?"
There was a momentary flash of confusion and then it was gone. "You must go on Paula. It is our destiny that you go on."
I was not to be deterred by this hiccup to my plan so I continued.
"So you are in a SNOW STORM and you see Yoda and Luke and they are cutting open one of those creatures from the Empire Strikes Back to live in and maybe start a family and then you see a slip 'n slide and must decide if A. You are allergic to belly buttons or B. Choose bachelor #2."
"So I must choose between A or B, is that the test?"
"No there is also a C but the only way to know C is to never speak to me again."
He thinks. He ponders. A few people take photos of me and I smile to be polite.
"So what happens if I pick the wrong one?"
"Then we can't see each other anymore."
"Oh, then I pick none of them. I don't like this test. I don't even know if it is a real test."
"Then you lose Gary."
"Wait! Let me hear the options again. I can get this right."
"I am sorry Gary but the correct answer was D."
"D?"
"Yes D is for drunk and that is me. If I stay any longer I may just find you attractive and no doubt when I blog about you all my friends will cheer and want me to see you again and bloody hell there may even be an E, which is we are perfect for each other and I don't wanna!"
No really. I don't wanna. So don't make me.
(*I thought Gary would be a good name because his name is actually Gary)
So here we are.
Again.
(Look if you skipped the first paragraph because you are lazy then bloody well read it would you!)
Before you accuse me of being insane for going through this again I would like to say that it was all peer pressure and yes Mum I would jump off a cliff because I am part lemming on Dad's side.
So let me catch you up. Wait I have already done that. Twice.
So I agreed to meet Gary* again and not to be fooled, like last time, I was ready for this date. I got a facial, waxed appropriate areas, considered a fake tan and then unconsidered and even washed my hair. I was ready! I also put on some clothes, which is always handy in public.
This date was to be in daylight and whilst you might think that just coffee would be more appropriate, I happened to think that straight vodka may work better. So back to the same pub we went.
I walked in and the whole place looked at me. Yes I was looking sharp.
At this stage I should let you in on a little secret. You see all that waxing and almost tanning was quite frankly because it needed doing and had nothing to do with this date.
Prep that did go into this date was pulling out all of my make-up from high school and choosing my best shade of blue eyeliner and pink eyeshadow and laying it on. Heavily. My lipstick that started out green and turned blue when applied finished the look and I noticed complimented my left elbow quite nicely.
I then crimped my hair, did a side pony tail and put on...well just jeans and a t-shirt (nothing from high school fit).
So what did Gary do when I sat down? He smiled and then a small bit of drool came out of the corner of his mouth.
"Oh Paula! You look amazing! How did you know I love Tiffany? Honestly how good was her song "I Saw Him Standing There?!"
Once again this guy, now formally Gary, had floored me.
"Yes, I love Tiffany too." Truth is that I do and was just a little bit chuffed that I now resembled her. (Google if need be for reference. Done? We progress.)
"So Paula after our last meeting I have to say I have not been able to stop thinking about you. You are definitely one of a kind and now...this..." He touched my crimped hair and I wondered if maybe I should have told someone about our second meeting time and location.
"Yes well, I too have been thinking about you quite a lot but I have a feeling that it may not be for the same reasons."
"Oh Paula, there you go again with your witty repartee. You really are something special."
I could feel my pink eyeshadow moving over into my frown lines as I looked at Gary with worry.
"Well Gary given that this is now our second date and I feel like things are moving really well for us, I think the time has come for me to ask you some questions to see if you are my perfect match. So hope you are up for it."
"Paula I think that anything less would be a crime." (Umm...okay.)
Did I mention when I walked in I bought six straight vodkas and was now up to my fifth? No. Well now you know, so stop feeling so neglected.
I needed them for what was to come. You see I was prepared this time!
I opened up my list and began.
"So Gary you are in a snow storm..."
"Paula I am going to stop you right there. Are you sure there is a storm already? I mean don't I mention the storm if that is what I feel?"
"Gary I am going to stop you right there. These are questions that I am pulling out of my ass and means absolutely nothing whatsoever to anything. So should I continue?"
There was a momentary flash of confusion and then it was gone. "You must go on Paula. It is our destiny that you go on."
I was not to be deterred by this hiccup to my plan so I continued.
"So you are in a SNOW STORM and you see Yoda and Luke and they are cutting open one of those creatures from the Empire Strikes Back to live in and maybe start a family and then you see a slip 'n slide and must decide if A. You are allergic to belly buttons or B. Choose bachelor #2."
"So I must choose between A or B, is that the test?"
"No there is also a C but the only way to know C is to never speak to me again."
He thinks. He ponders. A few people take photos of me and I smile to be polite.
"So what happens if I pick the wrong one?"
"Then we can't see each other anymore."
"Oh, then I pick none of them. I don't like this test. I don't even know if it is a real test."
"Then you lose Gary."
"Wait! Let me hear the options again. I can get this right."
"I am sorry Gary but the correct answer was D."
"D?"
"Yes D is for drunk and that is me. If I stay any longer I may just find you attractive and no doubt when I blog about you all my friends will cheer and want me to see you again and bloody hell there may even be an E, which is we are perfect for each other and I don't wanna!"
No really. I don't wanna. So don't make me.
(*I thought Gary would be a good name because his name is actually Gary)
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Just like Ted Bundy
So because I am a producer I often get people sending me scripts or pitching me projects. Everyone has a good idea but just needs someone to do all the hard work and make it happen (producer).
So when a friend of a friend wanted me to meet their mate to discuss a potential project I didn't say no because my friend is a good one and it involved free beer, so I was in.
So I arrive at the pub and the guy I am meeting was already there. As he stands to say hello I notice he is shorter than me (which is fine by me as I love South American men and they are always short), he looks like he could be a cast member on The Big Bang Theory and looks through me like he can see my underwear (I am pretty sure there was no lace bras and there may or may not have been a sparkly inscription on my ass that said JUICY).
So after waiting for him to buy the beer, which he had promised, and none was forthcoming I decided to go and get us a jug to share. I then started my small talk before I planned to launch into what his project was about and then make a quick exit and go and make love to my pyjamas.
Only none of my "usual" forms of engagement were working. As the first thing he says is:
"So thanks for meeting me on this date. I am really surprised you were interested in meeting me, even after seeing my photo."
I took a huge gulp of beer, tried to get my thoughts together and before I could say, I think maybe I am in an alternate universe where this isn't happening, he is off again.
"So I managed to get who you are and what you are about from your friend ***** (I will not mention my friend's name as I now have a hit out on them and I do not want this blog to be put into evidence) and **** said that you are well and truly single and may even be a bit desperate. So this is where I come in as I am also a bit desperate."
By now I am nodding because I am in shock and have drunk not only my glass that was full of beer but the glass that I poured after that.
"I think maybe there is some confusion because yes I am desperate but usually that desperation is for pizza and not men. After all pizza is far more satisfying than men." I laugh, not just because I may be a tad drunk but because I am also quite funny.
He does not laugh but looks at me like I am in an Attenborough doco.
So I continue, "I thought we were meeting about a project you were developing, not for a date. I think there may be some confusion."
"I saw your photo on my friend's Facebook and thought we should connect. It was my idea to make it a business meeting as I thought maybe a date might freak you out."
"How kind of you and yes I am a tad freaked out."
"So Paula I only have a few questions for you and then I can ascertain if in fact we can move on in this relationship."
Yes I should have left but there was beer left and I love questions and hoped it would be like a trivia night and there would be more beer if I "won".
"So you are walking through a desert and you come across a cube. What does this cube look like and please be specific."
I must admit I thought of a Rubik Cube but I had a feeling this may have been the correct answer so I said, "I see a cube that is made of pizza. It is margarita pizza and there are holes everywhere from where I have been snacking due to me being in a desert and for sure I am hungry."
His face gives me nothing.
"So now there is a ladder. What does it look like and where is it?"
"Well when I think of ladder I think of Jack and the Beanstalk and how that must have been the coolest and biggest ladder ever. I think my ladder is going through my cube for extra support. Actually can I have two ladders as the Magic Faraway Tree was also like a ladder and there was magical lands when you climbed it and of course there was Moon Face. Gotta love Moon Face."
He ponders this and proceeds but not before I grab his beer that he is clearly not going to drink and I need more than him.
"So there is a horse..."
I cut him off. "I LOVE horses!"
"Yes okay Paula but please give a serious answer."
I am now officially drunk and can't quite see him properly but the idea of horses makes me happy and I don't want to stuff this answer up because it is about horses.
"There is a horse in the desert now, so please tell me what it looks like."
"Oh that is easy. If it is in the desert then it is the Black Stallion and I am the boy from the Black Stallion and I ride him bare back, the horse not the boy. The Black Stallion only loves me and won't let anyone else but me on him."
"Okay Paula, that is great. There is two more questions about storms and flowers but I don't think I need to ask you anymore."
"That's good because flowers are a tad boring and storms are only good if you are living in a house with a tin shed. So did I pass?" I say (slur).
"You don't pass this test Paula but it does tell me a lot about you. You see the cube represents you, the ladder represents your friends and the horse represents your ideal partner. You are a very intriguing person Paula and I am not quite clear what your answers mean or if in fact we are right for each other."
I have to say I feel a tad disappointed I have not won more beer.
"So now I have to leave you while I decide if we should meet again and maybe mate."
As he leaves I wonder if he did actually say "mate" or I have drunk too much beer.
So the next day I get a text message that reads:
Dear Paula. Thank u 4 our date. It was most interesting. Upon reflection and with professional council I have decided u r either a serial killer or my perfect match. I happen to think u r my perfect match and will meet u again at arranged time to follow.
For the first time in my life I decided that being a serial killer wouldn't be so bad and so I will now be killing kittens in my spare time.
The alternative is a lot more daunting.
FML.
So when a friend of a friend wanted me to meet their mate to discuss a potential project I didn't say no because my friend is a good one and it involved free beer, so I was in.
So I arrive at the pub and the guy I am meeting was already there. As he stands to say hello I notice he is shorter than me (which is fine by me as I love South American men and they are always short), he looks like he could be a cast member on The Big Bang Theory and looks through me like he can see my underwear (I am pretty sure there was no lace bras and there may or may not have been a sparkly inscription on my ass that said JUICY).
So after waiting for him to buy the beer, which he had promised, and none was forthcoming I decided to go and get us a jug to share. I then started my small talk before I planned to launch into what his project was about and then make a quick exit and go and make love to my pyjamas.
Only none of my "usual" forms of engagement were working. As the first thing he says is:
"So thanks for meeting me on this date. I am really surprised you were interested in meeting me, even after seeing my photo."
I took a huge gulp of beer, tried to get my thoughts together and before I could say, I think maybe I am in an alternate universe where this isn't happening, he is off again.
"So I managed to get who you are and what you are about from your friend ***** (I will not mention my friend's name as I now have a hit out on them and I do not want this blog to be put into evidence) and **** said that you are well and truly single and may even be a bit desperate. So this is where I come in as I am also a bit desperate."
By now I am nodding because I am in shock and have drunk not only my glass that was full of beer but the glass that I poured after that.
"I think maybe there is some confusion because yes I am desperate but usually that desperation is for pizza and not men. After all pizza is far more satisfying than men." I laugh, not just because I may be a tad drunk but because I am also quite funny.
He does not laugh but looks at me like I am in an Attenborough doco.
So I continue, "I thought we were meeting about a project you were developing, not for a date. I think there may be some confusion."
"I saw your photo on my friend's Facebook and thought we should connect. It was my idea to make it a business meeting as I thought maybe a date might freak you out."
"How kind of you and yes I am a tad freaked out."
"So Paula I only have a few questions for you and then I can ascertain if in fact we can move on in this relationship."
Yes I should have left but there was beer left and I love questions and hoped it would be like a trivia night and there would be more beer if I "won".
"So you are walking through a desert and you come across a cube. What does this cube look like and please be specific."
I must admit I thought of a Rubik Cube but I had a feeling this may have been the correct answer so I said, "I see a cube that is made of pizza. It is margarita pizza and there are holes everywhere from where I have been snacking due to me being in a desert and for sure I am hungry."
His face gives me nothing.
"So now there is a ladder. What does it look like and where is it?"
"Well when I think of ladder I think of Jack and the Beanstalk and how that must have been the coolest and biggest ladder ever. I think my ladder is going through my cube for extra support. Actually can I have two ladders as the Magic Faraway Tree was also like a ladder and there was magical lands when you climbed it and of course there was Moon Face. Gotta love Moon Face."
He ponders this and proceeds but not before I grab his beer that he is clearly not going to drink and I need more than him.
"So there is a horse..."
I cut him off. "I LOVE horses!"
"Yes okay Paula but please give a serious answer."
I am now officially drunk and can't quite see him properly but the idea of horses makes me happy and I don't want to stuff this answer up because it is about horses.
"There is a horse in the desert now, so please tell me what it looks like."
"Oh that is easy. If it is in the desert then it is the Black Stallion and I am the boy from the Black Stallion and I ride him bare back, the horse not the boy. The Black Stallion only loves me and won't let anyone else but me on him."
"Okay Paula, that is great. There is two more questions about storms and flowers but I don't think I need to ask you anymore."
"That's good because flowers are a tad boring and storms are only good if you are living in a house with a tin shed. So did I pass?" I say (slur).
"You don't pass this test Paula but it does tell me a lot about you. You see the cube represents you, the ladder represents your friends and the horse represents your ideal partner. You are a very intriguing person Paula and I am not quite clear what your answers mean or if in fact we are right for each other."
I have to say I feel a tad disappointed I have not won more beer.
"So now I have to leave you while I decide if we should meet again and maybe mate."
As he leaves I wonder if he did actually say "mate" or I have drunk too much beer.
So the next day I get a text message that reads:
Dear Paula. Thank u 4 our date. It was most interesting. Upon reflection and with professional council I have decided u r either a serial killer or my perfect match. I happen to think u r my perfect match and will meet u again at arranged time to follow.
For the first time in my life I decided that being a serial killer wouldn't be so bad and so I will now be killing kittens in my spare time.
The alternative is a lot more daunting.
FML.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
What not to do.
Currently on the TV is Sleepless in Seattle where it is New Years Eve which reminds me that I must tell you all about my New Years and how not to be me when you grow up.
No seriously give my blog to your daughters instead of Judy Blume and say to them: be any kind of girl, just not Paula.
Before I get to New Years though I want to ask the blogging cosmos why over the festive season there are so many commercials on internet dating? Is it to remind us that we are alone and if you just jump out of a locker or knock over some paint the man of your dreams will fall in love with you?
Look I tried the knocking over the paint thing today with a street artist (he was cute too) and the guy didn't ask me for my phone number only looked like he was going to punch me in the face. I hung around for a little bit hoping he was a fan of Jackson Pollock and would think I was his muse, instead he threw some green paint at me and asked me to f**k off. Some would say that meant he liked me, I would say that may be true; what is true is that the green paint in my hair brings out my eyes.
So New Years. A single frenzy to be sure. Get drunk, have a good pash - because you can! If any night was made for us single girls it is this one.
So let me tell you what this single girl did.
For starters, I could have gone to the party where the boy that I like (and no he doesn't like me so don't get your hopes up) was and so at the very least I could have used New Years to liquor up, be miraculously by his side and then BAM! we are pashing at midnight. I couldn't have planned it any better unless of course we are talking about reality and not just a fantasy in my head.
I had one of my old high school crushes in town and he was going to the party too. We drank lots of beer, it was hot, I suddenly felt very old and when I should have been getting frocked up and fabulous I made up my mind to pike (not puke people - pike).
My high school crush thought I was ridiculous (and he is right, I was) so to prove I wasn't ridiculous I did what any girl would do and all sweaty and in my trackies I caught the tram and then walked him to the party. That's right ALL the way to the door of the party and then left.
Yes it is true, I am a moron. Any self respecting girl would have looked like a slut, had their girls out and been ready for any word that night except for "no" (or even "na" or "I don't want to").
But no, being the Paula that you have all come to love and scream at I left without so much as a hello to the boy that I like.
So at midnight I was on the tram going home. The tram driver dung the bell for me a couple of times - when I say me it was because I was the only person on the tram - and said "It is New Years now."
"Cheers," I said.
I half pie thought about asking the tram driving for a pash but that came and went, along with my sanity (that may or may not have gone a long time ago).
So the next day I found out that not only was I not brave enough to even say hello to the man I like BUT the party was filled with horror movie filmmakers. I mean seriously...
So New Years Resolutions go like this:
No seriously give my blog to your daughters instead of Judy Blume and say to them: be any kind of girl, just not Paula.
Before I get to New Years though I want to ask the blogging cosmos why over the festive season there are so many commercials on internet dating? Is it to remind us that we are alone and if you just jump out of a locker or knock over some paint the man of your dreams will fall in love with you?
Look I tried the knocking over the paint thing today with a street artist (he was cute too) and the guy didn't ask me for my phone number only looked like he was going to punch me in the face. I hung around for a little bit hoping he was a fan of Jackson Pollock and would think I was his muse, instead he threw some green paint at me and asked me to f**k off. Some would say that meant he liked me, I would say that may be true; what is true is that the green paint in my hair brings out my eyes.
So New Years. A single frenzy to be sure. Get drunk, have a good pash - because you can! If any night was made for us single girls it is this one.
So let me tell you what this single girl did.
For starters, I could have gone to the party where the boy that I like (and no he doesn't like me so don't get your hopes up) was and so at the very least I could have used New Years to liquor up, be miraculously by his side and then BAM! we are pashing at midnight. I couldn't have planned it any better unless of course we are talking about reality and not just a fantasy in my head.
I had one of my old high school crushes in town and he was going to the party too. We drank lots of beer, it was hot, I suddenly felt very old and when I should have been getting frocked up and fabulous I made up my mind to pike (not puke people - pike).
My high school crush thought I was ridiculous (and he is right, I was) so to prove I wasn't ridiculous I did what any girl would do and all sweaty and in my trackies I caught the tram and then walked him to the party. That's right ALL the way to the door of the party and then left.
Yes it is true, I am a moron. Any self respecting girl would have looked like a slut, had their girls out and been ready for any word that night except for "no" (or even "na" or "I don't want to").
But no, being the Paula that you have all come to love and scream at I left without so much as a hello to the boy that I like.
So at midnight I was on the tram going home. The tram driver dung the bell for me a couple of times - when I say me it was because I was the only person on the tram - and said "It is New Years now."
"Cheers," I said.
I half pie thought about asking the tram driving for a pash but that came and went, along with my sanity (that may or may not have gone a long time ago).
So the next day I found out that not only was I not brave enough to even say hello to the man I like BUT the party was filled with horror movie filmmakers. I mean seriously...
So New Years Resolutions go like this:
- Eat more pizza - it is my true friend.
- Only love Adrien Brody.
- I need more self help books.
- Never leave the house again.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Light Entertainment
Some days when you are single you look at other couples and wish it was you.
Today though was not that day.
I was trying to work when I heard someone yelling. Then there was a loud crash. Of course I was curious and looked through my blinds out of the window. Down below was a crying girl, surrounded by her toiletries while a Wilmer Valderrama look-alike sat in his black sports car looking bored.
The gist of the story was this. He had gone to Stereosonic the night before and hadn't called her to "check in". Instead he had sent her a text saying Have a good night. This was not acceptable to her and she therefore concluded that he had gone home with someone else. From the look of him and his smug face I would say she was onto something there.
Wish I knew why she was surrounded by her toiletries but I had come into what would be a three hour epic too late.
After settling in for the long haul with popcorn and beer (work could wait) I went through the emotions with them. I willed her to walk away, then when he got out of the car and hugged her, I wanted them to make up, she resisted, he got back in the car, she cried, he didn't flinch, I willed her to walk away again.
This was better than anything that was on Sunday TV.
Did I feel bad for sitting on my kitchen bench and watching them? Well momentarily, yes of course but then I looked up and saw the two boys living across from me doing the same thing. They also had beer and we did cheers from our vantage points.
At times I got bored and wondered why they hadn't walked or driven away (what I would have done by now) or made up and had a nap instead of sex because what they were doing was exhausting.
In the end they agreed with me and sat on the ground, head in hands, with nothing left to say.
I figured I owed them one (for A: giving me good grounds for work procrastination and B: making me wonder if I did actually want that date that I have been coveting after all) and did what any good neighbour would do: I put the kettle on.
That's right, I went out and brought them each a nice cup of tea.
Today though was not that day.
I was trying to work when I heard someone yelling. Then there was a loud crash. Of course I was curious and looked through my blinds out of the window. Down below was a crying girl, surrounded by her toiletries while a Wilmer Valderrama look-alike sat in his black sports car looking bored.
The gist of the story was this. He had gone to Stereosonic the night before and hadn't called her to "check in". Instead he had sent her a text saying Have a good night. This was not acceptable to her and she therefore concluded that he had gone home with someone else. From the look of him and his smug face I would say she was onto something there.
Wish I knew why she was surrounded by her toiletries but I had come into what would be a three hour epic too late.
After settling in for the long haul with popcorn and beer (work could wait) I went through the emotions with them. I willed her to walk away, then when he got out of the car and hugged her, I wanted them to make up, she resisted, he got back in the car, she cried, he didn't flinch, I willed her to walk away again.
This was better than anything that was on Sunday TV.
Did I feel bad for sitting on my kitchen bench and watching them? Well momentarily, yes of course but then I looked up and saw the two boys living across from me doing the same thing. They also had beer and we did cheers from our vantage points.
At times I got bored and wondered why they hadn't walked or driven away (what I would have done by now) or made up and had a nap instead of sex because what they were doing was exhausting.
In the end they agreed with me and sat on the ground, head in hands, with nothing left to say.
I figured I owed them one (for A: giving me good grounds for work procrastination and B: making me wonder if I did actually want that date that I have been coveting after all) and did what any good neighbour would do: I put the kettle on.
That's right, I went out and brought them each a nice cup of tea.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Too much information
There is one place I love to visit when I am in a bookstore (and that's if you can find a bookstore anymore).
There is a magical world called "Self Help." Yep, I am a fan. After all who wouldn't want to help themselves given the chance? I also love seeing the company I keep in this wonderful aisle - or more like aisles given the amount of "self" help we now need in the world.
I have my own floor to ceiling library in my house where I have a wide variety of books, all anal retentively categorised and you guessed it I have many shelves of self help goodness.
I bring this up because recently I have had to revisit this section and consult the bibles of any girl's life. He's Not That into You, Mars and Venus on a Date, The Five Love Languages and just for good measure The Secret.
I just need to remind myself that no matter what - wait for him to make the first move. No matter what - don't call. No matter what - be everything you can be just not yourself. I've decided these books are just here to confuse us, taunt us and remind us woman that unless a guy calls us then we may as well forget any hope of ever having a boyfriend. Honestly, I am concerned about breathing in case of scaring all those potential guys away.
I guess the real question here is why have I had to pull out all of my mind f**k books anyway? Yes good bloody question. Could it be that I acted ridiculously towards a boy then needed to reaffirm it via books written about girls just like me?
Here's the thing. Everything I could have done wrong in the world of boys, I did recently. Yep, I told him I liked him first, I called first and I am so busy worrying about what I can't do that I stuff it up and do it anyway.
Is it any wonder he hasn't asked me out on a date yet?
I have decided to write my own book entitled How to give 100% to being a Loser, without getting off the couch.
John Gray eat your Mars and Venus heart out.
There is a magical world called "Self Help." Yep, I am a fan. After all who wouldn't want to help themselves given the chance? I also love seeing the company I keep in this wonderful aisle - or more like aisles given the amount of "self" help we now need in the world.
I have my own floor to ceiling library in my house where I have a wide variety of books, all anal retentively categorised and you guessed it I have many shelves of self help goodness.
I bring this up because recently I have had to revisit this section and consult the bibles of any girl's life. He's Not That into You, Mars and Venus on a Date, The Five Love Languages and just for good measure The Secret.
I just need to remind myself that no matter what - wait for him to make the first move. No matter what - don't call. No matter what - be everything you can be just not yourself. I've decided these books are just here to confuse us, taunt us and remind us woman that unless a guy calls us then we may as well forget any hope of ever having a boyfriend. Honestly, I am concerned about breathing in case of scaring all those potential guys away.
I guess the real question here is why have I had to pull out all of my mind f**k books anyway? Yes good bloody question. Could it be that I acted ridiculously towards a boy then needed to reaffirm it via books written about girls just like me?
Here's the thing. Everything I could have done wrong in the world of boys, I did recently. Yep, I told him I liked him first, I called first and I am so busy worrying about what I can't do that I stuff it up and do it anyway.
Is it any wonder he hasn't asked me out on a date yet?
I have decided to write my own book entitled How to give 100% to being a Loser, without getting off the couch.
John Gray eat your Mars and Venus heart out.
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