Coz Miss L is 21 today!
An absolutely enormous cyber-hug and congratulatory hug to one half of this blogging tour de force.
This girl never ceases to amaze me with her dry wit, quiet yet acerbic tongue, incredible compassion and support.
I am going to sleep tonight wishing and praying for the man of her dreams to kayak from London to bring her birthday love and joy and demonstrate ridiculous gestures to make himself even a tiny bit worthy of her attention...
Cheers to 21 amazing years, and so many more to come... I can't wait to make years more memories with you
xxxxx
Friday, May 29, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
The City... an essay in self criticism
I promised Miss L I would find a way of referencing that MTV gem ‘The City’ somehow in this blog. So here goes.
To all those City aficionados… Remember the pains Jay and Olivia went to in highlighting the cultural differences between the Williamsburg and Upper East Side crews? Did you laugh and think how arbitrary such a split was given a geographical chasm of merely miles?
http://www.greatstufftv.com/mega.html?file=69RH4O9T
Don’t be so quick to giggle… such arbitrary labelling and division occurs right here in the Emerald City, Sydney.
So I’m talking branding. Not branding of cows, nor the stereotype of Sydneysiders as brand-name rather than style-conscious in sartorial selection.
No, instead I’m talking about personal branding- the apparent ever-present need to brand individuals. In saying this, I refer to categorisation of people according to superficial indicia supposedly demonstrative of all facets of character.
The indie kids fight their definition as scensters. The North Shore kids battle it out with the Eastern Suburbanites. The two warring factions combine in a show of strength against the ‘Westies’ and Shire folk invading the ‘hallowed turf’ that is ivy.
None of this is new of course, and in fact this posting serves to reinforce the notion that society splits itself. From the beginning of time tribalism existed. In Elizabethan times the issue du jour was the Catholic/Protestant split. Much of the 20th Century was spent embroiled over competing ideologies of Nationalism and Self-Determination. Even 1960’s London served as a battleground for the Rockers to spit on the aesthetically driven Mod movement.
But in the case of all the aforementioned examples (and thousands far more worthy throughout history) there remained characteristic differences in perspective, background and idea. The conflict pertained to something that whilst intangible, was nonetheless worthy.
The Sydney split appears more concerned with postcodes, fashion and music than anything of actual merit.
But surely such a shallow and seemingly arbitrary source of bias should fail to rile me? Especially given all the problems the Retards of the world are creating for me?
Alas, my gripe is a personal one. Having grown up on the ‘leafy North Shore’ of Sydney, attended North Shore private schools, befriended similar people and indeed spent the better part of five years of University still associating with this same type of person, I was well versed in all things North Shore.
My outfit of Ralph Lauren Polo, Sass and Bide skinny jeans, and ballet flats is not complete without hair-ribbon. I can discuss at length the merits of the St Josephs College Rugby team versus the Shore First 8 in terms of both sporting and sex appeal. I withstood the Baptism of Fire that was the ritual Greengate/Commodore-Greenwood/Cargo/Kings Cross initiation to adulthood. I know feel completely at home poolside at ivy complaining with my fellow clones as to the calibre of folk they allow in the general admission section of the Hemmes behemoth .
I was conditioned to be inherently insular, and be wary of anything which did not fit within my narrow conception of the world. I was, in short, a geographic xenophobe bound by a few local council areas.
However I reject this conditioning, and like so many others, seek to break free of these subtle rules and exclusions
But what happens when you seek to break away from your cultural clique?
Get ready for the backlash…
(also known as Part 2 of this posting- what happens when you outgrow your old world…
which I shall post later.... sleep time now)
Thursday, May 21, 2009
I'm not obsessed, just impolite
So despite the knowledge that the ex was and IS in fact a retard, and that at every stage in the relationship, you were in fact the ‘Hot One, the break up and consequential aftermath still hurts like hell.
So how do we obviate the hurt? Do we obviate it? Or do we let ourselves have a big fat wallow accompanied by chocolate, wine, gin and scenes not unlike Bridget Jones’ breakdown?
Honestly, I have no idea. But my rule of thumb from past understandings is that it takes around half the duration of the relationship to move on. Until that time, you’re pretty much stuffed. Take the pain, the anger, the drunken ramblings and roll with it. But here are some tried and tested words of wisdom (or… learning from my mistakes) as to what NOT to do:
1. Eschew technology-
Whilst Facebook et al are fabulous sources for information gathering, once you have established his position on the retard scale by virtue of him dumping your ass you don’t need a reminder of this.
The constant stalking of his page and lingering on chat hoping for him to appear is not helping you. Because what you are more than likely to see is him being tagged in photos with girls uglier than you, befriending slutty whores and having them incessantly comment on his wall.
Will this make you feel better? Certainly not. So JUST DON’T DO IT. Reduce the feeds you get about him…. The old adage of out of sight out of mind is most definitely true.
2. You are STILL the Hot One-
No matter how much of a douche he was in breaking it off, the fact remains that you are the hot one. So whilst he may need to run out and hook up with random skanky bitches as a means of affirming his own self worth, lowering your standards and slipping your tongue into the mouth of a lesser representative of the opposite gender does not help.
Don’t have an ugly rebound romance, and please, for the love of God don’t post it on facebook. You will regret it. I promise. I’ve been there.
Go for a run, have some gin, smoke a joint. Whatever makes you smile. Just don’t put it on the web… you are the hot one- don’t post photos which could indicate otherwise.
3. Whilst Facebook stalking is legal, physical intelligence gathering is more of an ethical and legal misnomer.
But lets face it, we do it.
It may be the frequenting of the favourite café where you used to share a Sunday morning brunch, going to a gig you perhaps wouldn’t in the hope of a run in, or altering your route to work ever so slightly to drive past his house.
Whilst we all do it, I’m fairly certain we don’t own up to it. Why? Coz we think it would make us sound COMPLETELY FUCKING CRAZY.
And it is. It feels comforting to see him, and know he is not with a new girl, or is wearing the same ugly jeans, but what purpose does this achieve? We have not broken our emotional dependence upon him, and are reinforcing the psychological bond which must be severed following the severance of relationship ties.
4. Being dumped is not a defence to criminality-
Revenge is a dish best served cold. So, throwing rocks at his windows/keying his car/ripping the pockets out of his pants/any other form of spiteful act really just reinforces his (deranged) motivations for ending it in the first place.
So this pretty much brings me to the crux of my rant:
The best way to enact revenge is to live the best life you can for yourself. Think hot, look hot, be happy. Surround yourself by people who love you, and feel free to fish for compliments to bank to neutralise his shit.
Because one day, be it ten days or ten years later, you will bump into him. And you will look better than him. And be better than him. It’s a question of how much better. Make him rue the day he ever ended it.
And before this comes off as too preachy, here is some news about me:
I have been obsessing over a relationship which whilst short, was filled with a ridiculous degree of passion, intensity, meaning, depth, friendship, compatibility and overall- potential.
His decision to end it on the grounds of ‘not seeking something too serious’ left me in a quandary. Did he just want to play the field? Well evidently not, as his time seems to be spent on facebook or with his guy friends, NOT picking up other women.
So then why? Why was I not good enough?
This hurt more than discovering infidelity, and took a long time to get over. But as of today I am 100% ok, and I know it. I do not fantasise about running into him, or him declaring his mistake and his newly realised unabashed love for me.
I hid his facebook news, I avoid his house, and I live my life for me.
(this only started today…. So learn from my mistakes!!!!)
Love, Peace and Gin to all…
So how do we obviate the hurt? Do we obviate it? Or do we let ourselves have a big fat wallow accompanied by chocolate, wine, gin and scenes not unlike Bridget Jones’ breakdown?
Honestly, I have no idea. But my rule of thumb from past understandings is that it takes around half the duration of the relationship to move on. Until that time, you’re pretty much stuffed. Take the pain, the anger, the drunken ramblings and roll with it. But here are some tried and tested words of wisdom (or… learning from my mistakes) as to what NOT to do:
1. Eschew technology-
Whilst Facebook et al are fabulous sources for information gathering, once you have established his position on the retard scale by virtue of him dumping your ass you don’t need a reminder of this.
The constant stalking of his page and lingering on chat hoping for him to appear is not helping you. Because what you are more than likely to see is him being tagged in photos with girls uglier than you, befriending slutty whores and having them incessantly comment on his wall.
Will this make you feel better? Certainly not. So JUST DON’T DO IT. Reduce the feeds you get about him…. The old adage of out of sight out of mind is most definitely true.
2. You are STILL the Hot One-
No matter how much of a douche he was in breaking it off, the fact remains that you are the hot one. So whilst he may need to run out and hook up with random skanky bitches as a means of affirming his own self worth, lowering your standards and slipping your tongue into the mouth of a lesser representative of the opposite gender does not help.
Don’t have an ugly rebound romance, and please, for the love of God don’t post it on facebook. You will regret it. I promise. I’ve been there.
Go for a run, have some gin, smoke a joint. Whatever makes you smile. Just don’t put it on the web… you are the hot one- don’t post photos which could indicate otherwise.
3. Whilst Facebook stalking is legal, physical intelligence gathering is more of an ethical and legal misnomer.
But lets face it, we do it.
It may be the frequenting of the favourite café where you used to share a Sunday morning brunch, going to a gig you perhaps wouldn’t in the hope of a run in, or altering your route to work ever so slightly to drive past his house.
Whilst we all do it, I’m fairly certain we don’t own up to it. Why? Coz we think it would make us sound COMPLETELY FUCKING CRAZY.
And it is. It feels comforting to see him, and know he is not with a new girl, or is wearing the same ugly jeans, but what purpose does this achieve? We have not broken our emotional dependence upon him, and are reinforcing the psychological bond which must be severed following the severance of relationship ties.
4. Being dumped is not a defence to criminality-
Revenge is a dish best served cold. So, throwing rocks at his windows/keying his car/ripping the pockets out of his pants/any other form of spiteful act really just reinforces his (deranged) motivations for ending it in the first place.
So this pretty much brings me to the crux of my rant:
The best way to enact revenge is to live the best life you can for yourself. Think hot, look hot, be happy. Surround yourself by people who love you, and feel free to fish for compliments to bank to neutralise his shit.
Because one day, be it ten days or ten years later, you will bump into him. And you will look better than him. And be better than him. It’s a question of how much better. Make him rue the day he ever ended it.
And before this comes off as too preachy, here is some news about me:
I have been obsessing over a relationship which whilst short, was filled with a ridiculous degree of passion, intensity, meaning, depth, friendship, compatibility and overall- potential.
His decision to end it on the grounds of ‘not seeking something too serious’ left me in a quandary. Did he just want to play the field? Well evidently not, as his time seems to be spent on facebook or with his guy friends, NOT picking up other women.
So then why? Why was I not good enough?
This hurt more than discovering infidelity, and took a long time to get over. But as of today I am 100% ok, and I know it. I do not fantasise about running into him, or him declaring his mistake and his newly realised unabashed love for me.
I hid his facebook news, I avoid his house, and I live my life for me.
(this only started today…. So learn from my mistakes!!!!)
Love, Peace and Gin to all…
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Facebook Has Made My Stalking 97% More Efficient-
There’s a reason over 12 000 people have joined this group- for better or worse, Facebook has converted us all to part-time private eyes. Whether its our drunken pash from the night before, the cute boy in our tutorial, or even your current boyfriend’s ex… we have knowledge at our fingertips.
So how does this impact our relationships? With all this new information before us, are we better able to identify the needle in the Retard haystack? Unfortunately no. It seems that despite our favourite friends Google, Facebook, Myspace (for a time-capsule glimpse of your new love 2 years ago), Twitter, White Pages and Google Streetview (eep) just further enable the Retard to hide his abnormality behind his carefully constructed cyber self.
So how to cut through the shit and identify the degree of retardation from word go?
The technological snooping tools are overwhelming, so lets use today’s lesson to discuss the Number One offender: Facebook.
Here are some key areas to examine in assessing your man’s position on the Retardation Scale:
Profile Picture: Hands down the greatest indicator. Certain things are no go zones. These include shirtless profile pictures, the ‘pimp in a posse of ho’s’ look, drunken mates photos, overly wanky artistic shots or any photo involving a man who is off tits on pills, or enjoying a sneaky spliff. If any of these are present, clearly he is functionally retarded and is in need of asylum. Check past profile pictures too- he may be alert to your stalkerish ways and censored his shady past.
His ‘About Me’: This series of boxes offers the chance to show your best self to the world. If he has deigned it necessary to complete, he will typically fall into two categories, both of which concerning. These are:
Trashbag: His favourite music resembles the back of a Ministry of Sound Annual- PNAU, Presets, Muscles, Carl Cox, Potbelleez (aaah) and if you are lucky, maybe a smattering of MSTRKRFT/Justice/Dizzee Rascal. His interests include: hanging with mates, drinking beers, festivals, the beach and playing footy.
Yes. He is indeed as shallow as his profile portrays him. Unless you can conduct an indepth conversation as to the merits of the latest Festival lineup, or how ‘zomg totally awesome Daft Punk were even though it was 3 years ago and I was like, totally off chops, but fuck man” you will be ready to shoot yourself in the head in an attempt to maintain sanity.
Indie Intellectual: His mortal enemy is the Trashbag, and he will use his Facebook information to demonstrate this. He will go to extraordinary lengths to detail his favourite avant guard films (Donnie Darko, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, Full Metal Jacket, Black Balloon etc) and authors (Kerouac, Capote, Safran-Foer etc). His interests include red wine, coffee, second hand books and developing nations.
This kid thrives on self-worth through abstraction. Unless you are prepared to sit through plays that make Waiting for Godot look like an episode of Home and Away, back away before he explodes from an overfill of self worth.
Wall Postings/Photos Tagged: This is your greatest indication of his true nature, unless (like me) he is protective of his online image. Here, you can get to know his friends, judge them, and in doing so, judge him.
Does he have 20 messages on a Sunday morning consisting of “Maaan…. How fucked was last night? Who was that chick you were with? Tap that shit? Fuuuck my head”?
If he does, I don’t really need to say anymore.
Similarly, is it nonsensical postings which have no discernable meaning to any sanendiidual outside their clique (or should I perhaps say cult)? Back away…. I know this man. I know his friends. I dated one. This man is incapable of relationships, but is in a committed bromance… or indeed many. You will have to schedule well in advance to see this boy, as his friends and their X-Boxes trump your vagina any day.
Related to this are the tagged photos. Drunken/Stoned/Munted photos are just ugly… this is your man at his worst. Do you really want this? Check out comments such as “piiisssed”, “drankan” and other pieces of bullshit. This is the complete extent of their communicative ability.
Who is he in the photos with? If it is once again his posse of bleach blonde, orange trash-bat girls who look like their main aspiration is pose in Ralph/FHM then you have no place in his life… you are his dirty little secret. What would his similarly retarded buddies thinking of him dating someone who can actually spell???
Also, if it is photo after photo of guys embracing, arms over shoulders, holding beers and pulling goofy faces, then please ask yourself: Where do I fit in this photo? With the other girlfriends at home perhaps? If you are prepared to settle for this- invest in a comfortable couch. You will spend many a Saturday night there.
This is just the beginning of Facebook transgressions, however through our experience, these offences are so common, if you can make it to the end of this posting without recognising one of these Retard symptoms, you may well have found yourself one of the exceptions….
But perhaps check Myspace/Twitter/Google and every other tool favoured by a proper stalker before you get too excited….
So how does this impact our relationships? With all this new information before us, are we better able to identify the needle in the Retard haystack? Unfortunately no. It seems that despite our favourite friends Google, Facebook, Myspace (for a time-capsule glimpse of your new love 2 years ago), Twitter, White Pages and Google Streetview (eep) just further enable the Retard to hide his abnormality behind his carefully constructed cyber self.
So how to cut through the shit and identify the degree of retardation from word go?
The technological snooping tools are overwhelming, so lets use today’s lesson to discuss the Number One offender: Facebook.
Here are some key areas to examine in assessing your man’s position on the Retardation Scale:
Profile Picture: Hands down the greatest indicator. Certain things are no go zones. These include shirtless profile pictures, the ‘pimp in a posse of ho’s’ look, drunken mates photos, overly wanky artistic shots or any photo involving a man who is off tits on pills, or enjoying a sneaky spliff. If any of these are present, clearly he is functionally retarded and is in need of asylum. Check past profile pictures too- he may be alert to your stalkerish ways and censored his shady past.
His ‘About Me’: This series of boxes offers the chance to show your best self to the world. If he has deigned it necessary to complete, he will typically fall into two categories, both of which concerning. These are:
Trashbag: His favourite music resembles the back of a Ministry of Sound Annual- PNAU, Presets, Muscles, Carl Cox, Potbelleez (aaah) and if you are lucky, maybe a smattering of MSTRKRFT/Justice/Dizzee Rascal. His interests include: hanging with mates, drinking beers, festivals, the beach and playing footy.
Yes. He is indeed as shallow as his profile portrays him. Unless you can conduct an indepth conversation as to the merits of the latest Festival lineup, or how ‘zomg totally awesome Daft Punk were even though it was 3 years ago and I was like, totally off chops, but fuck man” you will be ready to shoot yourself in the head in an attempt to maintain sanity.
Indie Intellectual: His mortal enemy is the Trashbag, and he will use his Facebook information to demonstrate this. He will go to extraordinary lengths to detail his favourite avant guard films (Donnie Darko, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, Full Metal Jacket, Black Balloon etc) and authors (Kerouac, Capote, Safran-Foer etc). His interests include red wine, coffee, second hand books and developing nations.
This kid thrives on self-worth through abstraction. Unless you are prepared to sit through plays that make Waiting for Godot look like an episode of Home and Away, back away before he explodes from an overfill of self worth.
Wall Postings/Photos Tagged: This is your greatest indication of his true nature, unless (like me) he is protective of his online image. Here, you can get to know his friends, judge them, and in doing so, judge him.
Does he have 20 messages on a Sunday morning consisting of “Maaan…. How fucked was last night? Who was that chick you were with? Tap that shit? Fuuuck my head”?
If he does, I don’t really need to say anymore.
Similarly, is it nonsensical postings which have no discernable meaning to any sanendiidual outside their clique (or should I perhaps say cult)? Back away…. I know this man. I know his friends. I dated one. This man is incapable of relationships, but is in a committed bromance… or indeed many. You will have to schedule well in advance to see this boy, as his friends and their X-Boxes trump your vagina any day.
Related to this are the tagged photos. Drunken/Stoned/Munted photos are just ugly… this is your man at his worst. Do you really want this? Check out comments such as “piiisssed”, “drankan” and other pieces of bullshit. This is the complete extent of their communicative ability.
Who is he in the photos with? If it is once again his posse of bleach blonde, orange trash-bat girls who look like their main aspiration is pose in Ralph/FHM then you have no place in his life… you are his dirty little secret. What would his similarly retarded buddies thinking of him dating someone who can actually spell???
Also, if it is photo after photo of guys embracing, arms over shoulders, holding beers and pulling goofy faces, then please ask yourself: Where do I fit in this photo? With the other girlfriends at home perhaps? If you are prepared to settle for this- invest in a comfortable couch. You will spend many a Saturday night there.
This is just the beginning of Facebook transgressions, however through our experience, these offences are so common, if you can make it to the end of this posting without recognising one of these Retard symptoms, you may well have found yourself one of the exceptions….
But perhaps check Myspace/Twitter/Google and every other tool favoured by a proper stalker before you get too excited….
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