A Recipe For Relationship Success

We all want to have our cake and eat it too and, as the old adage goes, if you’re going to bake a cake then you’re going to need to break some eggs.  You may be happy with a Coles-brand sponge or maybe you’re the kind of person that dreams of a multi-layered rainbow cake romance. Perhaps you’re a new-age paleo/vegan/ gluten-free  romantic and you need some kind of flourless carrot cake love. Whatever your hungry heart desires, like cake, a good relationship requires some methodical mixing of ingredients and a good pinch of patience.

We’ve all sat back and wondered why such a promising love was such a flop. You started out with a picture of a Women’s Weekly birthday cake and before you know it you’re elbows deep in a singe-crusted, oozy topping, food dyed disaster. You’re weeping on the floor of the kitchen, covered of course, in the main ingredient: flour. No relationship, no love, no cake. Just a big bloody mess and a torn up photo of a multi-layered, dinosaur cake with green butter icing and peppermint leaf spikes.  The white dust settled on every surface quietly transforms into gelatinous papier mache glue as it mingles with your cascading tears.

Such life events show us that it’s not a matter of following a simple recipe. Being human – all too human – we rush into things. We miss crucial steps, skip ahead, think we know best, ignore the oven timer and become completely distracted watching Family Feud, delivering a half-baked, lackluster love, droopy and distinctly lacking some key ingredient. So what are the essentials?

Obviously there’s got to be flour, you are trying to bake a cake after all.  I’ll call the flour (or almond meal if you’re that way inclined) love. . All you need is love, right? Love is all you need. That’s what I was told. Wrong. Whatever it is your heart desires from love, you’re going to need more than just flour. You’re also going to need a raising agent, a spark, a chemical reaction, something to turn a bowl of beige stodge into a fluffly delight. Without baking powder, you’ll end up making friendship crepes. Now, if you have flour and baking powder then you can have a crack at damper – you might even magic up some play-dough or a scone – but you’re still only half way to a relationship.

Holding the cake together is the eggs, the milk, the butter or the mashed bananas for my vegan friends. Key binders in a love cake might seem critically obvious, but they are often the most neglected component. Your eggless cake is the relationship your peers turn their nose up at. The foray that causes you to fall out with old friends. It’s trust, respect, communication, equality, understanding, acceptance, openness. Without a minimum of three of these components the partnerships skews towards ownership. Old eggs in your love meringue ruin your chances at that soft, fluffy, melt-in-your-mouth goodness, delivering instead a disappointing dish that really should go straight in the bin.

A cake should be sweet and it needs measures of kindness, caring, thoughtfulness; all that vom-worthy couple stuff. But there’s no level of garnish that can can uncook a catastrophy. No extravagant couple holiday, kissing selfie profile pic, overtly affectionate post or tacky couple tatt that can overcome a blundered base. There is no measure of silver cashews that can convincingly bedazzle a bland bundt cake. Some of us think we want a hot partner, nice dinners, holidays, presents. While a thick layer of icing can mask a dry cake, remember that the best chocolate brownie needs no extra decoration.

In truth, you can’t make a cake without flour. You also cannot call a bag of flour a cake. It’s not enough to fight for a relationship because you’re in love. If you are missing trust, respect, dignity, honesty and communication, it’s going to be a shitshow,  not a souffle . Too many times I hear vile, unhealthy and downright repulsive behaviour condoned and defended by love. So babe, what you’re telling me Neanderthal Neil can be excused for crushing you confidence, destroying your friendships and ruining your life? “…but, but you don’t understand, we’re in love.”

Mmm. Cool story. Neil is not a masterpiece, he’s got less personality of a bag of sugar and is not a healthy or balanced addition to your diet. You may as well throw fistfuls of flour at each other to show your love, it’s roughly the same result as your dysfunctional relationship. He makes everyone around you sick, most of all you, whilst you trip-out on some kind of delusional sugar high. “Ohhhh doctor I know I have type two diabetes…. But, but you don’t understand, Neil and I are in love. Neil doesn’t mean to destroy my health. I couldn’t possibly end it with Neil, Neil, love, Sugar, love blah blah blah”

*Self-destructs in a puff of sprinkles*

In the past we’ve all hoped for a bombe alaska and instead landed a cream pie to the face. In hindsight it’s generally safe to say the measurements were a bit off. Next time if you’re thinking of baking a cake with someone check your shopping basket first before you hit the check out.

The proof is in the pudding.

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Don’t Let The Assholes Get You Down

Assholes. We all know they are bad for us, but just like methamphetamine, one hit and you’re hooked. They corrode away your identity, leaving you a painful, weeping burden on the friends who told you to dump that d-bag six months ago.  The ice epidemic is certainly real, but the relatively unexplored addiction to assholes has been plaguing hopeless romantic for decades. Why are we so attracted to people that treat us badly? Why do the good girls pick the worst guys and why do the nice guys fall for ball-breaking dictators? It’s a sick, sad world, folks.

An asshole can be any guy or girl whose general behaviour, manner or emotional instability causes constant unhappiness, insecurity and hysteria for the opposite sex. There are many ways to be an asshole and it’s not dictated by age or gender. Yes, girls are definitely assholes as well (but generally try to be more subtle about it). Girls will torture a guy in a friendzone grey-area for years when he has no real chance. Just by giving him enough hope to get his attention, but never enough to imply a commitment, maybe a drunken pash every two years when she’s feeling lonely and needs cheering up. “Oh, Dan? Nooooooo, he doesn’t like me, we’re just really great friends. Don’t be silly” *Denial face*  – Yeah, sure you are. All of my friends have a bubble gum sculpture of me in their closet and a book full of emo poems about how majestic I am too.

The tragic thing about assholes is that people think that they can save them, releasing them from their shackles of douche-baggery. Kids, this is not Free Willy, and who said they even wanted to change? Most assholes are blissfully happy in their current condition. So, getting upset because an asshole hasn’t been miraculously cured after two months of dating is like yelling at your cat for not fetching the newspaper: futile. If you wanted a golden retriever you should’ve bought one, if you wanted a nice guy/girl then you should have chosen one. You can open the gates but you can’t set free a performing sea mammal if they are happy with their easy pickings at the water park.

Unrealistic expectations are the cause of much of the heartbreak in good guy/bad guy relationships. Sadly, the burden of blame is with you, Mr. Nice Guy. You’re hurting both parties when you blame the other person for not changing. The real failure here was your expectations. Treat a jerk like a national park and you will both come away a lot happier: enjoy the experience if you can, leave nothing but footprints and take nothing but pictures. They were an asshole when you found them and they’ll be an asshole when you leave, and with careful conservation they will go on to be an asshole for decades to come. Don’t mess with the ecosystem.

You can drive yourself insane trying to get to the root of their problems. But what makes an asshole as asshole is not really the question you should be asking yourself. Perhaps a more valuable question is this: what draws you to this kind of person? Is it some combination of low self-worth and boredom? When the nice guys are boring you to tears, the temptation creeps in, saying, “Come here, you beautiful Bastard. I haven’t made any really bad decisions in a while.”  If it’s not boredom or a Mother Teresa complex, then your self-worth may need to be re-calibrated. This quote from The Perks of Being a Wallflower just about sums it up: “We accept the love we think we deserve.” Assholes think they deserve the best and that’s why they often end up with incredibly kind and generous people. On the flip side, the best of us tend to be the most humble, meaning they are willing to accept more than their fair share of bullsh*t.

Dating an A-grade A-hole is a valuable experience, the key here being that it should be a chapter of the story, but not your shot at a happy ending. Dating an asshole is an important lesson in figuring out what you need in order to flourish – and what you don’t. Like puberty it’s an uncomfortable embarrassing time, but you should come out a more developed adult. Dating an asshole will also help you to realise if an asshole as well, or contrarily, that you’re an absolute door mat. Ditch the saviour complex and check your self-worth: I can change him, I’ll make her happy, blah blah blah bla-ullllllllllsh*t. They won’t change and you’ve really got no right to ask them to. You can’t tear down half of someone’s existing personality and install a new one just to suit yourself. The solution to your problems lies not in the ability to fix jerks, but to stop selecting them in the first place.

Serial dick-dater I urge you to please take a moment to reconsider your selection criteria. You’ve been down this road before so you know that when you jump on the jerk-wagon you leave your good friends (and your dignity) behind. There’s only so many times your friends will support a relapsing jerk-a-holic. So, it’s time to learn that lesson: if you want a long lasting love then stop shopping for diamonds in the bargain bin. No matter how crafty you are no one can turn a sequined cowboy hat into a crown. Save you pennies for someone who is really worth it, because it’s time to drop the door mat act and start asking for the love you deserve. After all, you chose the jerk-life, it didn’t choose you.

Five Things That Are Making You Unhappy

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Nothing sends us fruity like trying to settle into a daily routine after returning from a vacation. After escaping from reality for a while you might come back and notice that the things you once blindly accepted start to seem a little bizarre and the values that motivated you have change. Or maybe some of you will come back and cry, simply because your suntan is fading, solariums are banned and you’re still shallow A.F. Having just returned from a short vacation I’m feeling uncharacteristically zen and wondering why so many people are so habitually unhappy? Why am I paying $400 for a juice cleanse? Why do I care who J.Lo is dating? Why do I have to wear shoes? Holidays can’t last forever but they are a good reminder of the things we do almost instinctively to suck out the enjoyment of the other 49 weeks of the year. Here’s my quick pick of serial happiness threats: please be alert, not alarmed.

1. Caring more about fashion than friendship.
Throw out your insecurities: I’ve never once judged my friend for a repeat outfit or rocking a bit of 2008 wardrobe vintage. If I ever fall in with people who are vain enough banish me for not being in new season Alice McCall then push me in front of a bus call me Regina George. Not wanting to go out with the girls because you’re embarrassed about your out of date wardrobe means you either need to rethink your priorities or your friends.

2. Letting people that don’t care about you control your happiness.
Six words: He’s just not that into you. He may be nice as pie when you see him but if that is only ever on his schedule, if either of you are drunk or you’re both naked then chances are you’re not the Bey to his Jay-Z. It’s disappointing if your affections aren’t returned, even more confusing when they try to keep you on standby. But instead of trying to play the player move on. These hoes ain’t loyal? Why the eff would we be when you can’t even write back to a text message in a timely fashion.

3. Complicating the uncomplicated.
If you don’t like where you live, move. If you don’t like where you work, find a new job. If you don’t like who you’re dating then break up. Don’t all stand up and heckle me screaming “It’s not that easy!”, because often it is. In a modern, affluent society we are lucky enough to actually have choice and control over these things. You can always make more money but you can’t make more time. Live life simply by prioritising your happiness and quality of life over BS problems like housemates that steal your food or corporations that suck joy out of you for 50+ hours per week. You’re not a turtle: move out and quit your job. You could probably use a holiday.

4. Comparing yourself to others.
Comparison is the thief of joy. I was happy as Larry playing Uno with my imaginary friend until Jo Bloggs next door throws in a wild card with his new Tamagotchi. Suddenly all of my unembittered joy turned into sadness and longing because an imaginary Tamagotchi with imaginary digital poos just wouldn’t cut it. As we get older we get better and better breeding inadequacy and self-doubt. Treasuring items is not a crime but when obsessing about what you don’t have steals enjoyment away from what you do have and that’s where the problem lies. Rest assured, kids across the world with no clue of what they are missing are still screaming with delight and hitting each other with sticks like the good old days.

5. Wanting more stuff than you need.
The desire to accumulate possessions is strong but for most of us sitting on a big pile of shiny junk doesn’t make you feel like queen magpie. Vast piles of pointless, obsolete and out of season but “too good to throw away items” start to clog your living space like cholesterol in arteries. Accumulating lots of unnecessary stuff is not just bad for the environment but it will also mess up your Feng Shui and take away the peace and sanctity of you home. Like a questionable boyfriend, if in doubt, chuck it out. Re-gift it, recycle it or sell it and move on. You don’t need that useless crap in your life.

Running around shoeless in the sunshine maybe is one of the simplest joys there is, along with sharing good food and good company. The key is simplicity and enjoying what you have instead of pining for what you don’t have. You don’t need to take a holiday to escape from negativity, squash it at first sight like ants in your kitchen. Don’t covet thy neighbour’s wife, no use crying over spilt milk and mo’ money, mo’ problems, am I right?

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Aside

Five Sure Signs You’ve Settled into Singledom

Single and ready to mingle is a thing of the past. Single and ready to get comfortable in my own company, pay for my own meals and by-pass the dating dilemmas is in for the foreseeable future. If you’ve found yourself using your time to pursue interests and activities instead of decoding pseudo-cryptic text messages or worrying more about the quality of your coffee than the cuteness of your barista then there’s a chance you’ve transcended into the comfort zone. This is a magical world where you’ve overcome the stigma of being “alone” and stopped searching for a Twilight-esque fictitious love, only ever uncovering creeps and never Edward Cullens. If you’ve put up a no vacancy sign in the window whilst you revel in your independence (and polar fleece track pants), there’s a good chance you have settled into singledom. Here are a few more signs you might be there or well on your way:

  1. Not taming the hairy beast:

Shaving your legs is a weekly or bi- weekly event. Often you inadvertently flash your yoga class your hairy armpits and are reminded to shave because of supportive pro-feminist remarks from the androgynous hippie up the back that smells like weed and incense. Who can blame you? It’s the middle of winter, razors don’t grow on trees and in all fairness a little extra insulation can’t be a bad thing.

  1. Sleeping like a (sloth) queen:

You do not think of your bed as a love haven or a work bench. It is a hibernation-zone-meets-pillow-fort designed to encapsulate you in complete isolation while you binge-watch Game of Thrones. These days, the most compelling reason you have to wash your sheets regularly is the smearing of fake tan that have turned them orangey brown; that and the crusty drool on your pillow case that accumulates when sprawling out like a starfish in an attempt to cover as much surface area as possible on your queen-sized bed. Bliss.

  1. Underwear? Just don’t care:

Your prime reason for choosing underwear is their function. Your colour co-ordinated, frilly, skimpy, bedazzled underwear is shoved to the back of you intimates drawer and is not likely to see the light of day any time soon. Your go to underwear are your mismatching, comfy boy-legs and that 3-year old bra with a tear in the lace because they are the most comfortable ones you own. Let’s face it, no-one’s going to see them anyway. Where’s the reward in wearing unsupportive shoe string straps, bralettes with sparse nipple coverage and enduring lacey g-strings riding up your butt all day? Bridget Jonesin’ it erry day. No regrets.

  1. (Unat)tending nest:

You used to clean your room every time you had a cute boy coming over, now you just clean your room when you’ve lost something of major importance like your Girls boxed set or your buy-10-get one-free ice-cream coupon. Your complex filing system has outgrown the designated storage areas in your room and evolved into a meticulously managed floordrobe. No pressure to overstuff cupboards to bursting point three times a week when boyfie comes around to maintain the illusion of orderliness. Your room is perfectly chaotic and free, just like you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

  1. Sorry, I’m busy:

Your Tinder profile is gathering dust. Your Facebook inbox: crickets. Those “Hey how’ve you been?” texts are going unanswered and you’ve stopped searching through your Instagram likes for regular offenders. Long gone are the days that every half decent guy you meet sparks your imagination “(I wonder what suburb we would live in, I love that he’s passionate about his career. I wonder what kind of dog we should get? I think he would be great with children. Oh and he’s so tall.” Puke.) Far from the doe-eyed day dreamer you might have once been, you now use a strict allocation system where new males are automatically filtered into one of two buckets: f-wit or friend zone. Dating is fine for people who like that sort of thing but if you’re going to drink wine on a week night you’re going to miss Masterchef and spending your Saturday mornings at brunch is a non-neg girl bff commitment so there just really isn’t a convenient time, ever. Sorry.

If this sounds like you and the thought of having to regularly shave, dig out uncomfortable underwear and disassemble your pillow fort sounds like waaaaaaaaaay more effort than it’s worth then you’ve reached the ultimate comfort zone. Congratulations on being successfully single. Not everyone can do it. If your single status is making you feel uneasy, just remember the new Magic Mike movie is about to be released and Channing has enough love (and abs) for all of us to enjoy.

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5 Tips for the Guy Who Dates Everyone:

For us hungry singles, the solo life is a little like roaming the plains of the savannah: nothing but dust and tumble weeds as far as the eye can see and there’s not a soul in sight to make you feel guilty about eating no-fat yoghurt for dinner or fighting climate change with hairy-leg forests.  Whether you’re swaggering through the open plains like the bossest lion in town or you’re optimistically searching the horizon for the Simba to your Nala we all crave one thing from the opposite sex: attention.  In your twenties you’re at the top of your game and you want to know that someone somewhere has you in their crosshairs and is lining up to take a shot. Who wouldn’t want such a magnificent trophy stuffed and mounted on their wall? Isn’t that what dating is all about anyway?

Whether your game is hunting for the king of the savannah, chasing some sexy poacher booty or making easy pickings of a wounded, newly-single gazelle, girls are not idiots. We have a secret network of informants and we will find out if someone is out spraying bullets around with a machine gun trying to hit every target in his sights. We all know those guys who have messaged every girl in a friendship circle and had a crack at them all…. Simultaneously. Bravo, buddy, but what are you trying to achieve? The odds of an all in orgy are pretty low, as are your chances with anyone of them if your game is that weak.

Girls talk, if you hadn’t noticed. So if you want to play the field and date more than one at once then you need to avoid overfishing in the same ponds. I’m not going to tell you to only date one person at a time and get up on a high-horse, because girls are multi-dating too and that is fine. Everyone is so busy trying to look busy that it’s hard to see someone more than once a week anyway, so if you are craving a little romantic attention you might need to start a rotation to get your needs met… people are getting harder and harder to nail down. But lads, you’re doing a community service really, aren’t you? You’re a handsome young stallion that can’t be tamed; it is your moral duty to go sow your wild seed while you’re still young. Heaven forbid you should settle down prematurely and let all that talent go to waste. Run free, break hearts, have “fun” and make memories that will make your sixty-five year old self proud.

But here are some simple guidelines that can help you be a little more subtle in your quest for world (girl) domination:

  1. Make sure your candidates don’t know each other.

Honestly, these days it takes about 10 seconds to look at mutual friends and even if you find that a stretch too far, try a little common sense. Girls are the same age, you met them at the same place and they both live within a 5km radius. Chances are they know each other, they are probably friends or worse: enemies. We have all stuffed up an opportunity with a hottie by being greedy and targeting a not so hottie at the same time only to find out they are friends, colleagues, cousins or archenemies. Shame it’s always the better looking one that backs down.

  1. Think about location.

Try to define suburb parameters. You can’t be jumping into Lady A’s territory for a quick romantic brunch with Lady B because you will probably get spotted by the neighbourhood gossip girl if not Lady A herself. Also be smart about the venue, as much as you want to take them all to your favourite restaurants, by the time you’ve taken six different dates to your local it starts to get a bit awkward and not just with the staff, who are worried you’re an escort (or just a general jerk), but also when you get your dates mixed up and wax lyrical about the amazing tapas you shared only to be uncomfortably corrected: “Sorry that wasn’t me, I had the eye fillet and you got salmon…” Awks.

  1. Monitor your level of commitment.

Dating several people at once is just a fact of life these days but it’s a transitionary period rather than a long term commitment, just like living in share houses until you find you own home. Don’t be setting up joint bank accounts with your Tuesday girlfriend and picking out a puppy with your Friday fling. If you want to date several people at once then keep it light. Men are terrible for over promising and under-delivering, sorry lads but there’s a bit of the McDonald’s effect where you get us excited telling us you’ll take us to Tahiti in six months. You’re lathering on the mayo without thinking, but girls believe that kinda crap and you can bet your bottom dollar they will spit in your face when all they get is a soggy burger and a bunch of broken promises. If you’re playing the game remember the spirit of fun and keep the future plans to a minimum.

  1. Be honest

Look, I’m not telling you to number off your hoes or write a press release detailing your dating goals. However, if questioned, you really need to be prepared to be honest about your intentions.  Feelings get hurt when people don’t know where they stand. Lucky for you multi-daters, people want to believe they are the only one and usually they don’t ask questions they don’t want to know the answers to. Questions might lead to an awkward conversation but honesty is the best policy because the truth will come out sooner or later, regardless. Don’t hate the player, hate the game right?

  1. Don’t leave it on a bad note.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and even if you’re in a big city the young, attractive, smart people are a small minority.  If you don’t manage your recruitment and termination processes with sensitivity, news of your bad reputation will spread faster than a wardrobe malfunction at a Victoria’s Secret show. If Lucy decides she doesn’t want to be on your rotating roster try to part on good terms. In short, don’t piss in the pool: avoid nastiness at all costs and don’t kiss and tell – we all have to swim in this water. Just because you don’t want to date someone doesn’t mean you have to hate them. Be a grown up and keep it civil.

Evidently, the dating landscape these days can be a bit like the Hunger Games. It’s wild, dangerous and there are a lot of losers. You get a whole group of contenders and let them battle it out with each other until the bitter end whilst trying to manipulate the game so it’s as entertaining as possible. So, until you’ve found your champion try to follow these simple rules to manage your band of tributes. Happy dating kids. May the odds be ever in your favour.

Love Maths: Equations and Probabilities

It’s another girl. The timing is wrong. He’s just too busy with work; he’s been abducted by aliens or more likely than not he’s been recruited to the secret service and has had to cut ties with me for my own safety. Whatever the reason, it couldn’t have been my fault. If my calculations were correct we should’ve been holi-dating in Thailand by now and posting obnoxious couple selfies. Instead, the red carpet has been pulled out from under me and I’m left red-faced and licking my wounds after making a public spectacle of myself.  Someone must have fed me corrupted data.  How did this all go so horribly wrong? Holy shit Neo, there’s a glitch in the Matrix.

After falling flat on your face in front of a bemused crowd of onlookers, it can be hard to regain composure. In trying to make sense of our stumbles, we tend to blame everything under the sun except ourselves and get very hung up on the idea of closure. As if falling ass-over-tit for someone who doesn’t want you back isn’t embarrassing enough, people then want to pinpoint the exact moment things went astray. When people tell you not to worry because there’s plenty more fish it’s typically not very comforting. Oh wow really, what sea? What fish? Okay, there’s like 2 billion fish out there but they are probably all weird looking, undersized, bottom feeders. No thanks.  I want a Marlin, not a tin of tuna. I thought I’d hooked a big fish, if only I knew what went wrong. That would change everything, wouldn’t it?

The word itself – closure – indicates some kind of finality, as if knowing what the turning point was will make you feel instantly better and the whole saga will magically fade away into a distant memory. Keep dreaming. Of course it’s not that easy: since when could you blame one straw for paralysing a camel when there’s a whole bale underneath it? It’s never as simple or logical as “rise over run,” so analyse as long as you want but you are more likely to catch a unicorn then the mythical closure beast. Relationships don’t follow a logical, linear progression; the best you can hope for is to find some kind of trend in the chaos so you can manipulate future equations. Jules + Jerk Face = Sad Jules. Subtract the boy, carry the Jules, + gal pals x brunch = awesomeness2.

When you finally accept that you probably won’t ever be able to solve ‘x’ to uncover the exact reason for the relationship failure then you can start looking forward. Perhaps you forgot to carry the two, divide by 36 and move the decimal point; maybe you just weren’t his cup of tea and maybe he likes coffee. It doesn’t matter, post a passive aggressive quote on Instagram and move on. In fact, screw algebra. Thank you, high school maths teachers, for your years of hard work, but I don’t need a graphics calculator to tell me that love doesn’t bear resemblance to a text-book slope. It’s full of curves – positive and negative – and is generally much more of a white-knuckle roller coaster than a bell-shape or an exponential.

Don’t get so hung up on finding a logical answer for the one that got away. It’s nothing more than a necessary dot to your data set. So you put together a forecast based on an algorithm built with situational data and this time your prediction wasn’t even in the ball-park. You got it wrong… But that’s life. You’re not the first person to put all your eggs in one basket before elegantly face-planting right into them, crushing them to smithereens.  Wipe the yolk off your face, honey, and move on, because if you want to bake a cake you’re going to need to break some eggs and what’s that saying again? Oh yeah: “There are plenty more fish in the sea”…but how many exactly!? “Plenty more”’ isn’t a very compelling number– plenty more than what? Plenty more than none or plenty more than a New York City fish market?! Let’s crunch numbers.

By the time you’re in your early-to-mid twenties, it’s likely you’ve already caught a few fish. The newest guy/girl is the second, third – or in my case, 47th – love of your life. For the sake of the argument lets presume you’ve been casting lines into the dating pool for six years approximately. Now in that time you’ve met probably two life-changing loves, which averages out to one every three years (or every three months, if like me you fall in love like it’s going out of fashion). Therefore, conservatively, in a lifetime of dating that could be upto 25 people who could potentially turn your life into the blissful day-dream that is love. [Rough workings: 75 adult years/ 3 year love spells= 25 eligible candidates out there! Yiew!] Now, don’t give me crap about diminishing dating pools and declining probabilities, that’s not the point. I’m not a mathematician I am just a hopeless romantic trying to make an argument. So buck up, Chum, there actually are plenty more fish in the sea. Just keep on catching them and throwing them back until you find the one that’s right for you. And if nothing else, be comforted and a little grossed out by the fact that sexually transmitted diseases are on the rise among the elderly… So you’ve got plenty more years of love to look forward to.

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Jules x

iLove you, iLove you not…. iDunno

Relationships and technology – two areas of my life where, despite all my best intentions, I have taken a few hits. I’ve probably spent roughly as much time in JB HI-FI processing warrantee claims as I’ve spent trying to sew back together my heart and my dignity. In a complex world where even smartphones have an opinion of their own, it can be very hard to back your own judgement. It’s hard to know whether to hold ‘em or fold ‘em, when everyone keeps promising the next big thing is right around the corner. Should I buy the iPhone I’ve been dreaming of for the past six months or do I wait and see what the next model will be like? What if I wait another two months only to find the next model is basically no different and $200 more expensive? I’m at a loss. So I ask my friends what they think I should do and they tell me to forget iPhones and go get a Samsung. The whole experience is utterly bewildering and I would rather give up and go live on an island. For me, dating is pretty much the same story.

What if we are so busy looking far off into the distance for the next innovation that we forget what’s really most important? Unperturbed by my past technological breakdowns I am still entirely optimistic that there is a model out there for me. I wonder though – is the whizz-bang HD, 3D, intuitive, line-around-the-block latest-release really what I’m looking for? Maybe what I actually want is someone solid; someone strong; someone who can handle a fall; can communicate with me, doesn’t complicate things unnecessarily and won’t start malfunctioning if I drop him in the kitchen sink. Hang on, wait — now I’m not sure if I’m talking about a man or a Nokia.  I think back to the days when the only important feature in a phone was Snake 2 and wish dating could be as simple.

Funnily enough, I’m an android user – I don’t know what that says about me as a person. Maybe I’m pragmatic and I want functionality over flash. You might just think it means I’m stingy; there could be some truth to that too. But if you want to debate the value of an iPhone vs a Samsung in rational terms, there is really no justification for the price discrepancy between the two, just like how Nike sportswear is made of the same stuff as New Balance but twice the price (hint as to where I buy my gym gear).  I don’t really buy into brands and I really don’t buy into iPhones. I don’t like the exclusive chargers, I don’t like the glass screen that crack if you sneeze on them and I don’t like the obligatory software. They are very pretty though.

What implications does this have for my dating life? Maybe my choice of android over iOS is because over my overwhelming fear of having my heart chewed up and spat out by iTunes. I’m scared of putting everything I care about into one lousy device that is not backed up properly. Something that has the propensity to heartlessly delete my entire existence in one foul swoop. Sounds a lot like a guy, right? Maybe that’s a reflection of my love life. Maybe I hold back all of my important data because I don’t want to leave my valuable content at the mercy of some heartless and unreliable male computer program.

So I’ve always thought Samsung is the safe bet, the smart bet, the reliable choice. I also like what they stand for – they are courageous, they are smart and best of all they are (or were) the underdog. Investing in the less obvious choice can really pay off. For instance I always loved people that were ugly ducklings, they are always the best value. It could be the fat kid, the guy with bad teeth, the girl with the awful hair. Being socially less desirable in your youth can force you to equip yourself with tools much stronger than your appearance. These are the kids who are funnier, smarter and stronger than the rest because they had to force their way up the school yard ranks, they couldn’t just rely on good looks.  Given those ducks five years though and their metabolisms have sped up, the braces are off and they’ve got an army of hair stylists. Bubye ugly duckling, hello beautiful swan and jealous gasps from past skeptics: “Holy shit, you got hotttttt!”

I always try to date swans. They’re more humble, they’ve got personality and they are bloody beautiful people. Take it from me, I was a fat kid and that’s why I’ve developed humour. The only looks-based competition I was winning was second prize in the Monopoly beauty pageant (Collect $10, thank you very much) so I needed to get people’s attention some other way. I guess I’ve always considered Android to be the ugly duckling and that resonates with me. Apart from the hours spent at work or sleeping, phones and relationships are probably my biggest time commitment. So I’ve always wanted to share that time with someone who understands me, whether that’s a person or an operating system.  Reflectively I’m probably just bitter about because the iPhone was born hot and popular but like Android I feel I’ve had to earn my stripes.

Where are we at? I think I’m trying to date an Android-based water fowl, so maybe it’s no surprise that I haven’t had much luck thus far. Unfortunately in my attempted to avoid the dreaded i-phenomenon I’ve actually had a pretty average run with both phones and men. Ironically, I can’t seem to make a phone or a relationship last for longer than a year. The lesson there might be that I really should take better care of my phones and my boyfriends. Or perhaps I should take a chance on the iWagon and see if I’m swept off my feet like the rest of the fanatics. Up until now I’ve been going through the same cycle over and over again and hoping for a different result. We all know that’s the definition of insanity. Like my phones, I tend to expect a lot out of my romances and they tend always end up over-heating and burning out way too soon. Until I work out what’s best for me I’m not committing to another contract.