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 In a society where dating has been replaced by attending the local cattle yard on a Friday night, getting off the treadmill means giving up going out.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.

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.