Meeting the Selection Criteria



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Not long ago I met a man, and I use that term loosely, that had established selection criteria for women. He quite succinctly pointed out that dates are no different to job interviews and that a criterion simply assists with selecting the right candidate. I was both offended on behalf of his past and future dates, and intrigued. He wouldn't share with me the exact details, however, the odd bits of information passed to me by mutual friends at the time, it didn't seem to be your average list. So, should we have a selection criteria in mind when we are weighing up potential partners and what if they have a criteria, how can we possibly survive the interview phase if we don't know what it is?

Here is where Internet dating has advantage over conventional partner hunting. A good profile will put it all out there, what they consider to be their strengths and better qualities and exactly what they are looking for in a potential mate. The downside is they may be imaginary, lying or not really want what they think they want. Weeding them out on the internet is harder than in real life because when typing a response we have time to consider it, in the flesh we have a tendency to say something that we will regret forever, knowing deep down that it wasn't the answer that they were looking for.

So what is more important, establishing our own criteria or surviving theirs? Tough call, we are more likely to get a partner by meeting each of theirs, but how do we know if they are really the ones we want unless we have established criteria of our own. To create a list of our own we should first our own personality, what type of people we are compatible with and what we want out of life. Hmmmm, starting to get complicated. But I have a list of basics.

My basic list goes like this: male, heterosexual, single, fluent in English, physically available, emotionally available, in legal and paid employment, no addiction or substance abuse issues, non-violent person who has never been arrested or in been in custody. My secondary essential criteria list includes such items as being ambitious, great work life balance, friends of his own, not a party boy, accepting my son and I as we are, not living with his parents and having his own car. The third list of preferential criteria is where you weed out the ok guys from the great ones, these would be educated, worldly, down to earth, encouraging of my goals and aspirations, great with my friends and family and confident enough that I don't have to keep boosting his ego.

Notice the lack of physical characteristics, that's because we don't need them, we know fairly early on if we are attracted to someone or not, it's the rest of the stuff we have trouble recognising or tend to ignore too easily. Of course, I haven't mentioned any intimate criteria, but if you think that is not important you are seriously deluded. Having a partner that is compatible in bed can be, at some point, the make and break of a relationship.

So if these criteria can mean the difference between happiness and a miserable match up, should we tell them about it? I vote yes. I don't mean via document, or all in one hit, but as topics come up it wouldn't hurt to mention your preferences and goals. For example if a guy starts talking about backpacking Europe and you want to start a family, now would be great time to not only recognise you may not be compatible but to explain to him why it is the case.

Then there are their criteria. How do we know what it is? Well here's a thought, ask. I don't mean a bombardment of twenty questions upon first meeting, but as subjects come up don't be afraid to ask what they are looking for. This can be more difficult in non-date situations such as being out with a group of friends, but cleverly disguised conversation can still give you the answer you are looking for. For example a comment such as "her husband never lets her go out, says that they are married and it's her job to look after the kids", gauge his response and make a mental note of it.

Because being single wasn't hard enough, and looking the part just doesn't cut the mustard anymore, we are now stuck trying to work out what we are looking for, who meets that criteria and then what their criteria is and whether or not we meet it. Bugger that, I am going back to the Internet!

Nothing like a night out to ruin your night



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In a town as small and isolated as the one I live in you don't need to date. Everyone goes out to the same place on the same nights anyway. It's a bit like not having to order a-la-carte cause you know where the buffet is. And if in the back of your mind you are thinking that the quality at a buffet is never as good as table service, you would be right.

So why do we go out, is it to hang with our friends? we can do that at home or over coffee. Meet new people? In a town of twenty thousand, chances are we've already met everyone worth meeting, well those that actually live locally anyway. Let our hair down and have a good time? Don't know about you, but the last place I can relax and be myself is going to be in a well lit tavern filled with under dressed 20 year olds listening to a noxious mix of top 40 and country. Finally I understand why all the coupled up people stay home.

I have read about how sometimes single people need to get off the dating treadmill when it gets tiring, predictable and stressful. In a society where dating has been replaced by attending the local cattle yard on a Friday night, getting off the treadmill means giving up going out. Unfortunately for the single person this can mean being devoid of a social life, at least for a little while.

So as I ponder taking a break from it all and thinking about how uninteresting my life will be without the once a month bout in the drunken night out ring, I take a quick inventory of my last six months out on the town. The last time I went out I pushed a guy into a door when he turned out to be friends with my ex [sic], the time before that the young journalist from our office vomited on my pants in a limo, the time before that I lost my camera and stayed out till five in the morning with my mother and baby brother, before that a couple of balls that left me more pissed off than relaxed for varying reasons. The first six months in the year weren't much better either.

So what happens if I take a six month hiatus? Well the first thing that comes to mind is that I might miss out on something. Miss out on what? a great night out? cause there has been so many of them lately. Miss out on meeting the man of my dreams? because clearly I am going to find him at some seedy night spot in the wee hours of the morning. Or maybe I will just miss out on gossiping, hours sitting around trying to look like I have friends, spending money I don't have on drinks I don't really like and wasting the whole next day on a hangover.

With the decision made to stay home and save a little money and possibly my sanity, I now have to deal with the knowledge that it will be at least another six months before I meet someone, or at least reacquaint myself with someone I once new that will do due to lack of options... but I have ran out of time to go any further with that idea. See you next year.

When I grow up I want to be Carrie Bradshaw

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When I grow up I want to be Carrie Bradshaw, albeit a an overweight, less fashionable, financially destitute, uneducated version. I have been spending a lot of time watching Sex and the City, mostly to distract myself from something else and I can't decide whether it is meant to make us feel better that even glamorous women have shitty love lives, or make us feel hopeless because if they can't make it happen what chance do us mere mortals have.

As far as role models go she's not what most people would aspire to, but she is neurotic and in that way I feel I have found a kindred spirit, and I won't let the fact that she's a fictional character take away my sense of validation. I watch a thirty something single woman on the flat screen who picks the wrong men, chucks tantrums and can't budget and I feel like giving her a high five. But then she has so much more.

Carrie has my dream life, a professional career where she writes for what appears to be a fairly good living, in a city full of culture and possibilities, with friends who love and support her and never has a problem getting a date. Instead, I have a medial low level part time job that barely gets me from pay to pay, in a tiny town in the middle of oblivion containing only a singular remaining divulge all type friend and I have never been asked out on a official date in my entire life.

Watching the glamorous foursome tramp all over the city I have been fantasising about since Sesame Street leaves me feeling with pangs of jealousy, but that's not why I'm watching it. As 1.30am on a Monday morning creeps up on me and I count down the hours until I have to go to work I still can't stand to turn season three off. Each time I turn it off a new feeling engulfs me, not envy, grief and I remember what I was trying to distract myself from.

The source of the grief I feel is something Carrie Bradshaw will never have to deal with. The complete emptiness and fear that I feel for the three nights a fortnight my son spends away from me. The horrible moments before I drop him off when the terror seeps in that I could never see him again, the  sleepless nights I spend checking an empty bed holding back the tears at the thought that it may remain empty forever. It's the most horrible place to be, a place many shared parent's are spared from. Then my son comes home.

For 11 days a fortnight I have the joy that can be unmatched by any designer clothing, cocktails, fancy jobs and unlimited supply of eligible bachelors. The feeling I get when my little boy puts on a concert, creates something just for mummy and crawls into bed next to me in the middle of the night and tells me he loves me. Somehow it all feels better.

It's 2am on a second Monday and in six and half hours I will have him back. But I still can't sleep, so I lose myself in Carrie's life a little more.

Somewhere over the rainbow, things are still shit



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One once upon a time, in a land called Oz, a girl and her little dog left her house and a town full of little men behind to go in search of a narcissistic pathological liar that would solve all of her problems. Along the way she met a man with no brains, one with no heart and one who was weak as piss. Fuck me. I think I've been there.

The yellow brick road of boyfriends and one nighters is long and the Emerald City of matrimony far, but don't be fooled, behind every great and powerful Oz is a scheming little man just vying to make his escape when he thinks you're not looking. And you are going to have to work for it. Whether or not there is a crazy witch and flying monkeys depends on the mental state of his ex and whether or not he has children, and being able to deal with these or similar obstacles is going to test authenticity of your fairytale.

Nevertheless, a brainless, heartless, self centred liar with no balls you can do without. So the next question is how to get home. No, you may not have ruby slippers, but you do have it in you to find the way yourself. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a place that is not quite real and has dangers lurking around every corner? I know I don't, but it sure is pretty.

In Oz the three men are given tokens of what they are seeking, a fake diploma, a fake medal, and a ticking clock instead of a heart. In real life we often accept the same, a shared bank account, a house, a ring, maybe even a fancy party, when quite often it's not the real thing. So trust me, you are going to want to get back to Kansas before the toxic posies trap you forever. 

There are times where we think that the problem is us and they we need to work harder, perhaps it's just the fear of the unknown that keeps us in the fantasy land, when we should remember the good things about the place we so desperately wanted to run away from by getting into a relationship. In the words of Dorothy “If I ever going looking for my hearts desire again, I won't ever going any further than my own back yard” because there's no place like home.

The Big O

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Someway into my 24^th year I became obsessed with the search of The Big O. My naivety, a weakness of my twenties, and now, had shielded me from not only experiencing the female orgasm but from even knowing that it existed. Once my friends stopped laughing they decided to help.

I was in a live in relationship with a then 21 year old I had met straight out of high school, he was sweet, extraordinarily handsome, young and well built. He was also unemployed, unambitious, and a homebody who detested spending money. Our lives consisted of going without nice food, a social life, holidays  and hobbies so that we could save for menial possessions. As he paid off  lay-buys for video recorders and computer game machines I started to feel my whole life was on lay-buy. One that I could never afford to pick up. I wasn't sure what I wanted out of life, but I felt that even the white picket fence out the front of our tidy 90's villa was mocking my desire for something more exciting. It's no wonder sex became a chore.

I had flown the coop so to speak, well at least three nights a week and on weekends. After discovering that being terrible at sport was quite enjoyable when there was a lot of drinking involved, I found myself happier at the football club than I ever was at home. My team mates decided the reason for this was bad sex, and Monday, Wednesday and Friday training sessions were often followed by, well, training sessions. It was a butch version of Sex and the City. Instead of designer clothes and cocktails it was joggers, jeans and beer, but the content of the conversations were much the same.

After several months of transferring my new found knowledge to the bedroom I was still no closer and starting to stress out. In an attempt to loosen my inhibitions, more beer would be consumed, but this would back fire as by the time I got home from all my consumption activities my mystified partner was well and truly asleep. That's when the fighting began, not happy with being at home all alone and me spending all the money I earned on alcohol, the numbingly peaceful home started to turn toxic.

It wasn't the bad sex that was making the relationship bad, it was the bad relationship that was making the sex bad, or at least killing my enjoyment of it. Six months and an attempted rerun later the whole thing was over and I was starting to discover that my new uni friend, despite all appearances might not actually be gay. I was wrong, but more on that another day. In the meantime he was providing me with an opportunity for practice. I will admit, he wasn't the only one during that year that I styled my craft on, but he was the most reliable and fun to be around in general.

Eventually, a year later I found it. Not the way I thought. I had had it all wrong. I was looking for something that made me scream, when what I really needed was something that made me truly relax. We are all different, and just like we all want something different out of life, our hidden and most desirable treasure will differ greatly also. I am not saying you shouldn't listen to the advice of your mates, just don't waste 18 months of your time obsessing over something when you don't really know what it is you are looking for.

Here comes the Badger

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The online urban dictionary defines a badger as the ugly version of a cougar. So as an overwieght, over thirty, single mother I would probably fall into that category regardless of who I was interested in, and lets face it men naturally aim much younger and choosing someone their own age or similar is just.. well not necesary.

So what is the worst part about being a badger? It's that everyone assumes you are on the prowl or "waddle". It's when I try to mingle where the paranoia hits fever pitch. I worry that every male I talk to regardless of age, relationship or my level of interest is being assessed as out of league by bitchy woman around the room, and even by the men themselves.

I wish it was paranoia, unfortunately I have heard the comments about others all too much, even had a few rumours about myself come back and hit me in the face. So what do we do about it? Not go out? go out but sit inconspicuously in the corner making sure not to talk to any men? In an ideal world we wouldn't let banter like that get to us. This isn't an ideal world.

So as I get ready to go out I push the thoughts of comments of "you can't dress up a turd" out, as I arrive at the pub I push the "bingo was last night" comments out, as I order a drink I push out the "don't think they sell your spritzer here" thought out, when I go to the bathroom I try to ignore the look of the thin pretty twenty somethings who think they are "never going to end up like her", on my way back to my friends I may run into someone I know to chat to for a bit, God help me if he's male. The brain goes crazy with the "look who she's trying to pick up", "move on grandma" and "poor guy" comments. By the time I get safely back to my friends, my own thoughts and paranoia have decimated what was left of my self esteem.

Then I get comfortable talking to someone and slowly but surely all those insecurities seep away, a handsome yet lovingly chubby tradesman was more than happy to talk to me, which would be better if the topic wasn't how great his wife is. Then there is the hot young guy that I can actually have an intelligent conversation with until he decides it's time to go hunting for a root for the night. I try talking to women, but I'm shit at it, or they don't like me cause I'm single... not sure.

Either way I spend a lot of the night looking for my friends who dont' seem to have any of my hang ups, or if they do, they are effortlessly concealing it as they dazzle the men around the room. Maybe it is all in my head. I really wish I could beleive that.

All my ex-boyfriends are getting married

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Correction all my ex boyfriends have already gotten married. Well, I haven’t checked up on the latest one, I have deliberately cut off all contact, because quite frankly I don’t think I could bear knowing. It’s not the type of jealousy that indicates I want them back, it’s the fact that despite what they told me, they were indeed the marrying type, it was me they never wanted to marry.

I know this happens to a lot of women, for those that haven’t experienced it, take the complete feeling of dejection and worthlessness when you find out your ex has a new girlfriend and times in by ten. It’s that horrid complete internal organ back-flip feeling when someone casually mentions that your ex is engaged, the urge to hold in the vomit when you see the wedding photos, especially if they got married at the spot you picked out, and the inability to function as a normal human being when you accidentally run into them at a restaurant on a Saturday afternoon and he introduces her as his wife.

I have had eight serious boyfriends since my prom, seven of them are married. But then it got lots worse. It got to be that every guy who I had a casual fling with was shacking up within days and married or engaged before the end of the year. I was the female equivalent of Good Luck Chuck. As a never married, overweight, single mother, thinking about this fact for too long can be soul destroying.

It’s at this point I usually reflect on the positives of a situation. I've got nothing. I never gave marriage too much thought in my early to mid twenties; I just sort of assumed it would happen. It never occurred to me that it wouldn’t. Now I am approaching 34, living day to day without the opportunity of ever meeting anyone new, let alone compatible, and I am yet to decide whether or not to give up hope.

I watch a romantic movie or some intimate moment on television and I feel like screaming, Fuck you life! That’s what I wanted! The only thing that can calm me down is the realisation that the only common denominator in all my failed relationships is me. Perhaps I don’t’ have the required skills, or I don't project myself as wifey material, I might be attracted to the wrong men or have incredibly bad timing. So what to do? I honestly don’t know. I tried online dating, long distance relationships, the works. I may never get married, and maybe I just have to teach myself that that is ok.

She's got an all right job, but, it's not a career

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It’s the one song that makes me cry and it’s not even about love, well it is, but not the particular line that reduces me to a blubbering mess in the middle of the main street. “She’s got an all right job, but, it’s not a career, each time she thinks about it, it brings her to tears.” – Lilly Allen’s 21. It’s ok to be single if you have concentrated on your career, well not exactly but it will be excused. If you have no husband and no career, then you’re just a loser.

So how did I get here? Well that is one long boring story, but suffice to say for some reason at some point along the line I lost the passion required to have more than just a job that pays the bills. I can’t even remember when my thinking changed from one day I will do that, to, I wished I had done this. So why do I want a career so much? I can tell you one thing, it’s not parental pressure, they can barely understand why I bothered with university in the first place and feel that my need to complete a degree and have a professional career is not actually mine, but what I think that society wants me to do. Could they be right?

I am from a mining family, my father is an underground miner, my step father works above ground at a mine, I have three brothers that work underground in mines, even my best friend drives trucks underground and she loves it. They all love their jobs, they award them no status, but they do renumerate them sufficiently financially. Is it about the money then? Could that be the secret to employment Zen? Maybe I am obsessed with finishing a degree and getting a professional career because I can’t drive a truck underground, honestly, I can’t even back a car out of a driveway without hitting something.

The truth is I actually do care what other people think about me. I want them to know that I am intelligent and knowledgeable, and therefore interesting to talk to. Maybe it’s all about making friends. I mean really, who’s going to spend the evening hanging with a part time receptionist that dropped out of a Social Science degree and has never had a job above the bottom rung of her office ladder in her life. And if I can’t make friends how could I possibly ever find a boyfriend. Here, we come to the crux of the matter. I don’t have looks; youth, charm or money so the only thing I have left to attract a potential mate is the allure of independence and sophistication. If all else fails, at least a career would give me financial security.

So what happens if I don’t finish uni and forge a career? I do have a job, and have never really had trouble finding work; I have a home of my own, a rental property and a beautiful son. I might not have a great deal of money, but what do I really need it for anyway. A library is free and the internet is not far off it, I could read if something interests me, I can still be intelligent and knowledgeable without specialising in a profession. Can’t I? But it's not enough, because deep down some of it is for me, my need for personal growth, to be all I can be and to set the best example I can for my son. So I have taken a week off work and I am going to complete the first unit in my diploma, no promises, but it's a step in the right direction.

Honey, I blew up the Incident

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Imagine everyone you know all know each other, see each other regularly and love to talk, a lot, about everything. Basically imagine you are back in high school. That is what it is like to live in a small town. Everyone knows everyone, everyone talks about everyone and I will put my hand up and say that I am no exception. Doesn't mean I like it.

Gossip comes in two forms, intentional and unintentional. The unintentional is born of boredom and well lack of anything else to talk about; I am guilty of this one. The intentional is self serving, maybe by acting as a discloser of information the gossiper can gain the confidence and friendship of another person, maybe even drive a wedge between them and the one they are gossiping about so that they become their friend instead. There is also a version far more malicious. The rumour starter. This one deliberately lies to either destroy the reputation of another or to cover up their behaviour, sometimes both.

Regardless of the initiation, the giant game of Chinese whispers that is small town life sends the whole thing out of control. Reputations are damaged, relationships torn apart, attitudes formed and all from what? Well a lot of the time it's nothing. Other times it's not, in these circumstances my plan of attack has been confront and admit. Confront the person who started the gossip, always with a witness, so that they know you are on to them. Don’t' for a second think they will admit fault to anything as they will not. Then, admit to the parts of the story that are true, and get in first wherever you can.

I will digress here. My dad recently went on a tour of England, Scotland and Wales at sometime during that tour he got up out of his bed, half drunk, to go to the bathroom only in his jocks as apparently that's how he rolls, anyway then he accidentally walked out of the front door of the hotel room instead of into the bathroom. My uncle watched the whole thing, laughing and left him out there for a while before letting him back in, probably in the hope that he would be sprung by the younger female members of the tour. Knowing his brother as he does, dad assumed that he would not only tell everyone on the bus but also plan some humiliating trick at some later stage. The next morning dad gets on the bus, and announces to the whole group that he locked himself out of his room in just his jocks. Now I am not advocating that you hold a press conference to air your indiscretions, but this story does illustrate the advantage to cutting them off at the pass so to speak.

Reactions to rumours and gossip are also etched forever more in small town memory, as either "well he didn't argue too much so it must be right" or "she was too defensive so definitely hiding something", you can't win so why bother. So should you explain yourself, personalities like mine insist on it, we cannot handle unresolved issues, and this has quite often got me into more trouble that the gossip itself. Then what do I do with the gossiper, I can't handle not being liked either so I am forever trying to smooth out friendships. Well I am happy to say since my 30's started these incidents are few and far between.

There is another issue, because of the nature of small towns we do have a tendency to over think things people say. Assume that they have been talking about something when they haven't. This is sort of self centred paranoia is another one of my traits I am afraid. That being said my experience in small town/community life has rarely proved me wrong, especially if you are very familiar with the other personalities involved. So what do you do about the gossip? Nothing. Take it from me even a DNA test and 18 month long court case will still leave people saying, "well ok she was right about that but there must have been some truth to the rumour", just for the record  - there isn't. But there is nothing I can do about that.

So next time you have a bit of gossip in your head that you are dying to get off your chest, because it does sometimes feel like a burdon, think about the consequences. Is this going to damage any reputations, any friendships, relationships, what is my purpose here, and finally do I need to pass this information on at all? And before you react... breathe.

10 ways to tell he's not interested

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10. He hasn't asked you out. Whether it's a date or a dinner party or even a birthday party, if he hasn't asked you but he's asked mutual friends then he is definitely not interested.

9. His friends don't ask you out either. I don't mean on a date, but his friends aren't going to ask you out for something if they know it's just going to make him feel awkward and uncomfortable. And they probably think you are a pathetic loser and laugh at you behind your back.

8. He doesn't answer your messages. Whether they be text messages or instant messages via the internet, if he is not answering or he's just giving you the absolute minimum answer required to a question you have asked, then he is not even interested in having a conversation with you, let alone anything else!

7. He told you he wasn't interested. Well he may not have said it just like that, but he may have said something along the lines of I'm not ready for a relationship, not looking for anything right now, I'm interested in so and so or even that he is already seeing someone, when he isn't. That's awkward.

6. He doesn't seem to want to talk to you. Obvious yeah? Well you're at a party, or a pub or anywhere really and he's busy talking to other people, including a group of 20 somethings, you are not on his radar, you are not even a bleep in his life, move on.

5. He physically faces away from you. This isn't as easy to notice as you would think. From the slight facing away while you have him cornered, to the obvious getting up and leaving as soon as you sit down. This may or may not be deliberate on his behalf, either way, he doesn't like being near you, you are not getting far with this one.

4. He rejected you. You asked him out and he said no. Maybe you just told him you were interested and he politely told you he wasn't, in a way that unfortunately made you think there was a chance. The worst thing you could do here is try and argue why he should like you or demand to know why he doesn't, I mean are you really that full of yourself?

3. You are getting teased. You might not know it or maybe you think that everyone is just being mean, but everyone is commenting about you being that crazy stalker chick that just won't leave him alone. You're a stalker and you should stop.

2. Your friends tactfully or not so tactfully steer you away from him. From the subtle lets go to another bar when he walks in to the look he's just not into you, get your shit together would you.

1. Look in the mirror. This sounds harsh, but look at the girls he does talk to, and compare yourself to them, be honest, It hurts but it may just be the only way you're going to get it. If need be stick your photo next to theirs. I'm not staying we don't have a chance with someone out of our league but it's important to remember those chances are very very very slim indeed.

Red Flag City Limits

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Alcoholic, gym junkie
Plain old drug junkie
He's a player, he's too keen
you just don't where he has been
Now that's a Red Flag
Red Flag
Red Flag City
Red Flag City Limits

He's late for dinner, tea & lunch
and talks about his ex too much
He goes to town on Saturday 
Doesn't call you till Monday

Red Flag City
Red Flag City Limit

Emotions to frail
Not a manly male
Your attempts to better him
will be all to no avail
Red Flag City
Red Flag City Limit

Red Flag City
Red Flag City Limit
Never had a real girlfriend
he's not one that you can depend
He goes to mums on Monday
and Tuesday through to Sunday


Red Flag City
Red Flag City Limit


Too many money problems I can see
Don't do much for the community
Not much happening between the ears
Hasn't matured much in 30 years
You got watch out for douchebags
When you're single in your 30's
You got watch out for douchebags
When you're single in your 30's
You got watch out for douchebags
When you're single in your 30's
Keep an eye for the douchebags
Eye for the douchebags


Red Flag City
Red Flag  City Limit
Red Flag City
Red Flag City Limit
Red Flag City
Red Flag City Limit
Red Flag City
Red Flag City Limit

_______________________________________________________________________

What's the red flag in a relationship you ignored?

Email dovehoward1.emptyfinger@blogger.com

Online Dating Profile - Attempt #1

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FOR SALE
Used 1978 wide bodied family model, outside needs some work but still looks ok, very accommodating interior, low running costs, comes with small one in tow and some baggage. Surprisingly low mileage given places visited, and can handle various terrain. Very reliable but steering can sometimes go astray. Extras include excellent communications system, in built entertainment features and own parking space.


WANTED TO BUY
1976-1983 sporty-ish model or similar, low mileage, decent exterior, comfortable interior, needs to be able tow small load at all times, a little baggage is ok, self sufficient, with low-med running costs, reliability and adaptability key features. Prefer something that can handle rocky roads and long journeys and that has flexible steering controls. Not interested in short term lease or test drives.

Saddling up in a One Horse Town

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Sometimes it feels like I live in a town where I have exhausted all my romantic options, come to think about it I have just about exhausted even all my one night stand options also!


I live in a town of just under 20,000, not including surrounding towns, because there are none. In fact you have to travel two and half hours to get to the next town and the only thing to do there is keep driving through to somewhere more interesting even further away.


It's a mining town so you would be excused for thinking that there is an abundance of burly men. Alas this is not the case. Having grown up feeling entitled to a job on the mines young men are often shocked to find that the foreign owned local mine requires qualified and experienced workers, so the young men leave. They are not replaced with men from "away" as the required workers are flown in and out. The end result is that us women often feel that there are just not enough men to go around.


This is not always the case, for several weekends starting in October our town unwillingly participates in the annual drunken arsehole exchange. At this time we send a football team of cashed up bogans to someplace else and get five teams in return. In this respect it is much like the illfated Malaysia deal, and just as succesful. We turn up at the local classy establishment to find ourselves in a sea of young, drunk, unavailable men. And they seem to be standing around wondering where the hell all the hot young available women are. They're at home with their kids.


Now I may be completely off the track but below is how I see the typical small town bogan romance, henceforth known as a bogance, unfolding in more situations than not. Guy knows of girl and girl knows of guy, cause lets face it in a town of 20,000 you're pretty much guaranteed to know everyone in your age bracket. Guy is at pub with mates, girl is at pub with girlfriends. They are both there to pick up, clearly. Guy gets drunk and hits on girl, girl gets drunk and lets guy take advantage of her. Guy takes girl home, girl never leaves, they end up married with two kids by 24. There are other variations, but you get the gist of it.


By the time they hit 40 they are divorced and have split the house, debt, kids time, friends, community in general and what days each one of them can go to the one only pub that happens to be cool at the time. Now looking for wifey number two, the 40+ divorcee wastes no time heading back to the pub with his, also divorced, mates and the system repeats itself only with someone 5-10 years his junior.


The divorcee wife stays at home with the kids, occasionally going out with her single gal pals to get way to drunk, act way to flirty and end up with a bad reputation. The times, they have not a changed that much.


One thing that gets me about this whole awful process is the lack of actual dating. I would like a guy to actually ask me out, on a date, something involving dinner and a wine, with a follow up date and then gradually get to know someone. But the men out here aren't trained that way and as all the guys my age are now entering the divorce phase of their lives and I go fishing for second round offers I can't help but think... do I really want to be with a romantically challenged retread anyway?

Here's one I Prepared Earlier or Being a "Single" Single Parent

I once read that kids are a joy, but they suck the joy out of everything else in your life. It's funny because it's true. There is nothing more wonderful than hearing your child laugh or seeing them so proud of themselves when they learn something for the first time. There is also nothing more depressing than sitting at home alone after your child is in bed wondering if this is it, is this as good as it gets?


Having children presents many roadblocks to finding somone when you are single. The first issue that many people gloss over is the one of finances. Children cost money, children require your care, which diminishes your ablility to earn money. Put these two together and you are left with the most lovable thing in the world and a whole heap of financial stress. Yes, some are lucky enough to have forged a decent enough career prior to getting knocked up or have a wealthy ex that does in fact pay child support, but for the most of us being a single parent means an ever beeping fuel light, payment plans for basic utilities, comparing prices in the supermarket and that occasional splurge where you just go "Fuck it! I'm never going to get ahead anyway so why do I bother!"


Being short of money effects all things about looking for a potential mate. Starting with ill-fitting, stained or unfashionable clothes, then not having makeup or any that hasn't gone off already, not having the latest hairstyle or any at all, and then not having the money to actually go out and meet people, anywhere.


Say you do have the money to go out, you can't take your child with you. Pubs don't have creche's  so you need to find care, be it a family member, friend or babysitter. I personally find the whole finding a baby sitter thing stressful. I feel like I am asking to borrow a million dollars everytime I ask someone one, and more often or not they say no. If they do say yes, then there is often conditions attached, you need to be home at a certain time, be able to pick the child up or there is a cost involved, as is the case with teenage babystitters.


So you have a sitter, you have some money and you are ready to go out. You don't get out often so settling into the groove of things takes some time. Then you need to be to able to join in with the conversation, hopefully they are not talking about other nights out or weekends away when you couldn't join them. Sometimes the conversation is about how you don't do things anymore like the gym or coffee or shopping.


So you have a sitter, some money, you're out and joining in with the conversation and you meet a couple of new people who seem half interesting. Being out of the loop you need to find out their stories and after a few misses with those who are already married or gay, you come across someone available, straight and somewhat interested in what you have to say. Until all you can talk about is kids. They are mildly interested at first, then they find an excuse to escape.


One month later, you find a sitter, some money, some friends to go out with, someone interesting to talk to and you have learnt from your mistakes and you're keeping a lid on your "kid talk". Things are going well until they start on how they are planning to travel the world next year, backpacking in fact, they are so excited. NEXT! This pattern repeats itself for months, years, decades. Then finally someone is interested. How did that happen? you had just about given up.


So you start to see someone, you spend money you don't have on dinners, lunches, coffee and maybe a gift. You plan a weekend away and even though you keep the costs down it's still more than you can afford. So reality hits, time to reign it in. You stay home more, this is met with resistance from your new partner, they want to do things and can't understand why you have changed. But, this is all assuming you have made it this far.


Lets rewind to the first time that your new love interest meets your children, they are mildly amused. They try to be their best friend, but kids being kids couldn't care less, they are happy with the way life is and this new person presents as inconvience to said life. So things don't start so well, and don't get better.  Kids come first, always will, doesn't matter how tired, hungry or horny you are, what the kids want come first and that will always be the case. New love interest doesn't understand that, new love interest is just hanging around for their turn to be the centre of attention and is starting to feel like a bit of a third, fourth or fifth wheel. New love interest leaves.


Maybe new love interst is ok with that, lucky you, and they stick around. You have a way of doing things, a routine or schedule so to speak that you have developed over the years based on the personalities of both you and your children. New love interest thinks you are doing it wrong, from their extensive research of sitcoms, soapies, best friends cousins kid and vague recollections of childhood they are well versed on how to raise children. And you are doing it wrong. Your child is naughty, rude, messy and should be able to do more things for themselves, of course saying that they're only three doesn't seem to be getting you anywhere. New love interest leaves.


Miracle above miracles your new love interest is ok with your kids, lack of money and lack of time and is quite happy to stay on board. In walks the ex. There will always be a drama, some reason why this person is not good enough to be around your kids. Having danced this dance a few times now, you are amicable, accommodating and address each of the exes concerns. New love interest takes offence to this and leaves.


Now I know there are step parents out there by the hundreds, that have got through this and come out the other side. They probably still get the "You're not my real dad! You can't tell me what to do" or "I wish mum had never met you!" but they stick it out. Who knows if it is the best thing for the kids, I guess each situation is different. But there is hope for all us single parents yet. So long as we don't live in the middle of nowhere, but that's another story for another day.


:D

On Being Single in Your Thirties

According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics the 2006 consensus reported that 26% of Australian women never get married, that means that 74% will get married with the median age of first time married females at 27 and 46% of them will marry more than once. Greedy bitches.


For everyone who likes to ignore the uncomfortable fact of statistics, lets bring it closer to home. I have been in eight serious relationships between the age of 17 and 34, yes that is 17 years, and seven of those men now are married, most happily, most meeting their wife within months of us breaking up. I am not saying that I would take any of them back, I wouldn’t, but I can’t help but think that none of them wanted to marry me. And that is enough to make you cry uncontrollably on the floor of the shower at 3am after a large binge drinking session.


There are certain times in life when thinking about these things becomes more difficult. For example when your 20 year old sister gets engaged, when you realise you are the only single member of your family or group of friends, or when the trendiest, best looking couple have the most romantic public proposal. I would suggest around the third time you are a bridesmaid is also hard, however I don’t have enough friends to have got that far.


Also hard to swallow is the advice and encouragement from well meaning, happily married for years, friends. I would have thought being happily married for years would have made you the least qualified person to comment on single life for the over 30’s. Clearly I was mistaken, but the next person who tells me “there is someone for everyone” is going to get a smack over the head with the diamond side of a cricket bat. That comment is one of my pet hates, seriously. Not far behind, is the ever contradictory comments of  “you’ve just got to put yourself out there” and “you’re trying too hard and appearing desperate”. I seem to be continually assessing to see if I am positioned correctly in the ‘available but not too needy’ limbo. So, casually hanging around with the same friends at the same place for some drinks once a month when I can get a sitter is too little, and taking out a billboard on the barrier highway is too much. It’s tiring.


At this point we consider the “you don’t need to have man to be happy” argument. This one frustrates me, not only because it is also usually spouted by some happily coupled up know it all, but because it fails to acknowledge some basic psychological and socialisation principles. As human beings the meeting of our need for love and support as a child allows us grow into mature well rounded individuals, I suggest that this is not going to change in our adult years. As a society everything is built for the coupled world from holiday accommodation to medical insurance, then we attend functions where most people are coupled up, and are continually asked about our marital status by ignorant strangers. This gets more difficult as the years go on, so much so that when I tell people now that I have never in fact been married I am greeted with a look of pity and an accompanying sigh. “I’m sure you will find someone” – SMACK!


Short of a Frances Farmer style frontal lobotomy or a miraculous transformation into the 1% of the population that identify as asexual, I am going to continue to crave the romantic and sexual attention of a potential mate, in my case, one of the opposite gender. So I get busy putting myself out there, not appearing to desperate, getting on with life, loving myself and not needing anyone but my mind still wanders. It wanders towards that new guy in town that is kind of cute and said hello to me once, How old is he? Is he single? Is he straight? Will he be sticking around? Is he in my league? And these are the thoughts that go through your head before you even consider the basics such as is he nice? Is he self-sufficient? Would he be good around kids? Would he get along with my family? Can he kill large spiders un-aided on demand?


While I consider what type of guy, out of the ones left available, I should be interested in, one of the considerations bothers me more than the others. Whether or not someone is in my league. I have read that someone is only out of your league if you think that they are, I bet that they beg to differ on that front! Unfortunately we are all judged on looks, fitness, intelligence, interests, popularity, socio-economic status and of course past decisions slash indiscretions. So determining who is in or isn’t in your league can be hard, and sometimes a friend telling you that you “continually set yourself up for failure” by going for those who “maybe don’t appreciate you as much as others would” can be even harder. But trust me it is a help. The down side to this is once you realise what is actually in your league you may be even more depressed than you were before. I know I am.


So where to from here? I wish I could tell you. But I don’t have all the answers I can just relate to the pain and exhaustion of being a single person in a coupled up world. Next time I will complicate things again by adding in the ‘child I prepared earlier’ cause that makes things so much easier.


You may be single but you’re not alone.
:D