Penguins who can't spell are problematic

He came up to me in a tuxedo complete with a little bowtie and asked me how I was doing. He looked like a boyband member dressed up for the prom and I was really really drunk.

So when he leaned in and kissed me, my thoughts were not on sabbaticals or exes or even how high school it was [the only thing missing was my maths folder with the doodled love hearts], I was just enjoying the moment for what it was worth. A brief connection with a stranger, in the middle of a crowded club.

I’m so cynical lately [which is so unlike me!] because I leaned back at one point and said ‘So where is your girlfriend? Did you leave her at home?’ and he laughed and said ‘Look in the mirror, there she is’- which is quite sweet, but I didn’t just graduate from the school of newbies.

And that was what I thought would be the end of that. I gave him my number, tried to drink from a swizzle stick, promptly fell over onto my ass, had to be rescued from wandering around the bathroom area, lost my bracelet , discussed the meaning of life with my taxi driver and apparently called everyone in a 50km vicinity at 5am. So all in all a pretty good night.

I wasn’t expecting a message the next morning from the Penguin asking how I was. But there it was.

I give him props for being sweet and I guess ordinarily I would have been swayed. But I had a no dating policy to maintain.

So my message back was very polite and cheerful [considering I felt like death on toast] and I asked him how he was as well. And then he replied:

I fill so tiad.

I had to reread it a couple of times to be sure I was reading what I was reading. And then I kind of had to hold myself for a minute because my internal spelling nazi took herself out the back and shot herself.

This is where I reveal myself to be a complete and utter elitist. I don’t know how come I keep ending up with people that can’t spell properly but for some reason I do [maybe I should start making prospective candidates take a literacy test or something] and I can’t frigging abide it. I can’t stand it. I regardless of a dating or no-dating policy will no longer have anything other than a platonic relationship with someone who can’t spell ‘commencement’ without looking it up in a dictionary [but clearly run-on sentences are fine].

And I don’t care if the guy climbs mountains, is an astronaut, is as sweet as the Penguin appears to be or is actually my soulmate. Close your eyes and spell ‘Woolloomooloo’ and I grant you a pass.

I told Betty about it this morning, and her response was: Stupid Head! Why close yourself off to these opportunities? I think his spelling is cute! When I text type, sometimes I say meepi for sleepy.

Me: Fine, meepi for sleepy is cute. But this was not meepi. I get meepi. This was tiad. He fills tiad. Who does that??

I started talking about the Penguin to my friends over board game night, and I couldn’t hear myself over the shouts of “WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR SABBATICAL?!”
“I said dating! Not making out! Making out is fine!”

Sometimes I think of you at 4am

He was the kind of person who helped strangers out of mud puddles. He deliberately left a trail of chaos everywhere he went. He was constantly trying to find the meaning of life at the bottom of a scotch glass. He knew that smiling at you would get him out of trouble every single time and you loved him for his self-destructive streak that mirrored your own.

Hello you, do you still think of me? Everytime I take a shot of soju, I silently raise my glass to you as well. Even now you are still my favourite mistake.

Reading, reading

Because I'm constantly applying for online positions, it apparently doesn't make any sense to anyone that I read.. books. As the theory goes, for online to succeed then publishing must fail and vice versa. Actually I don't think I've ever spoken to anyone [besides myself] who believes that the two can simultaneously exist.

And the last thing I want to do in the middle of an interview is stand on my soapbox and proclaim that publishing is not dead and will most likely not be going anywhere within our lifetimes. I say what they want to hear, "Ahem. hypothetical bosses, online is the way of the future, limitless information, social connectability and instant access will kill publishing deader than a doornail. Or something."

But it will never take away the thrill of opening the cover of a new book, of laying in bed and flipping through the pages, of having a book drown out every other piece of outside noise or even the singular satisfaction of hurling a really shitty book across the room. I never say that because I need to pass round one.

I let my guard down a bit last week and I mentioned to an agent that I love to read.

A: Do you?

M: I do. Reading is one of my passions. I just love books . I always have a new one with me all the time.

A: Hahahaha! No need to be that intimate. It's not like your boyfriend or anything.

How can you explain anything to someone like that? You know what they really want to hear is that online is the only way and that publishing is moot.

So when I’m right I’m right.

And so she was talking to me the other night about her relationship problems and I was exhausted from a full day of driving and I was not verbalizing properly.

I’m one of those people who always think that they’re right so the more I was trying to explain to her what she was doing wrong, the more frustrated I was getting and thus my usual concise reasonings were coming out as “Purple! Monkey! Dishwasher! ……….. Forget it!”

I could hardly talk and it was all I could do to stop from thumping the table in frustration, caveman style. All of this coupled with my inability to keep her from driving off a cliff into impending doom.

So I just gave up and looked annoyed.

Later on, I had to explain to her that I wasn’t annoyed at her per se, but.. but.. but…Refrigerator! Mushroom! Enunciate!

And she very gently explained to me that these was her mistakes to make. Which is true. But still if I see someone get into a helicopter..I’m still going to say wear a seatbelt right? Right?

So maybe the problem is that I get too involved in my friends lives. I’m quite a good judge of character, and I give good advice but really no-one is going to crown me the relationship queen [maybe before but definitely not now. Yikes.]

And then on the other hand, today I had another friend say to me “You give really good advice and I’m making more of an effort to follow it now because I reallllly should have listened to you before.”

See! She should have listened to me!

“what.. you’re going to start now?”

She started to laugh. “Better late than never!”

Something I don't miss

She was walking down the street with her boyfriend and he tried to take her by the arm. She shrugged him off and kept walking. But he wasn't to be deterred so he kept fumbling for it. He at some point managed to grab hold of said arm and attempted to plant a kiss on her shoulder. It only served to annoy her further. That was as far as I saw before they crossed the street.

Someone like you by Adele

"I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,
I had hoped you'd see my face,
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over,

Never mind, I'll find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you too

Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead"
-Someone like you, Adele

Those three words.

Unless I'm hugely distracted or talking to the electricity company, I usually end my phone conversations with 'Love you. Bye!'. If I think about it, I probably tell people I love them more than I actually thank them. And then if I think about it some more, this doesn't stop with people this also goes for inanimate objects. I've been known to profess my love to laptops, Hello Kitty frying pans, Michael Cera on the tv and countless pairs of shoes.

I swear I have more than once told a random stranger I loved them just because they were funny.
RS: How many hipsters does it take to screw in a lightbulb? I couldn't tell you because it's too obscure! Ha! ha!
Mush: Oh my God. ha. ha. ha. ha. I think I love you.

Of course all of this has in its own way served to dilute the message, so when I have to show support for an upset friend, I kind of feel like I have to underline the I love you part in case it wings over their heads.

Mush: Don't be upset. He's a douche. Don't do anything stupid. We love you. You're very important to us. We. love. you.
Friend: What does that mean?! He also said he loves me! Waaaaaaaaaaaah!

I say it flippantly and he says it to get by. The difference is in intent but aren't we both guilty of throwing those three words around like they mean nothing?

Big Cat.

A quote from future Troy

"There's this idea that a person's life is like a staircase… A mistake happens, a lesson is learned, and you're constantly growing and growing until you become older and wiser and then you die…

Life doesn't seem to work that way. I think I believed that it would, that I would try these different things - writing, acting, theater, directing - and somehow it would all make it clear where to go. And instead here I am in the middle of my life, completely lost." -Ethan Hawke

Oh my God! That's so Troy! How did I end up as fucking Troy?! I hate Troy! [Sigh, the establishment owes me a snickers. Or two.]

Saying it out loud

Don't get me wrong, I have plenty of really lovely friends who I can tell everything but lately I don't feel that I can. And I guess that's why I've been avoiding really blogging because I think if I put those words out there then they are really out there. Never to be taken back.

I feel unhappy. There, I said it.

And if anybody was ever to stop me on the street and ask me how I'm doing I would say 'Good! Chugging along.' I'm not really lying. I am chugging along.

Looking for a job, hanging out with my friends, hoping this sensation will pass because eventually I'll have to talk to someone about it and then it will be real.

I'm hoping these are just post-birthday blues.

Periodically aggravated

Every once in a while [it's a small world I know] some part of my family will bump into him somewhere and then report back to me about it. If I'm the mood I will just go along with it, and if I'm not in the mood, I feel I'm in the section of Dante's hell where the poor soul is encased in a block of ice. Come 'ere. You're not going anywhere.

H: So I bumped into him.. and he was by himself. He looks single.
M: He looks single. How do you look single?
H: I just feel like he's not with her anymore. He's such a good boy. He's always been such a good boy. And he's always so kind to me!
M: Sure. He's... great.
H: Do you believe in destiny? Do you know some things are just fated to be...
M: .....
Mum: Would you take him back?
M: What are you talking about? No. (much exasperated) You can't go back. There's just no going back. Done. Finito. Basta.
L: But you're getting old. You should be getting worried? You must be a little worried about relationships. Time is running out.
M: !! I. am. not. worried.
L: Why not? You should be.
M: Because I'm not afraid to be alone.
L: Oh**[like it had never occurred to her!]

By the time they were done I felt like I had been waterboarded for 48 hours. Never ever discount Chinese interrogation as a form of torture. And of course, my pissiness manifested itself into shouting. So I shouted at my stepdad and he shouted back at me, and my mum stepped in and tried to shout over us and it was shouting, shouting, shouting.

I'm over him. You'd think my family would be over him too.

Adulthood

And I may seem all right and smile when you leave
But my smiles are just a front
Just a front, hey
- I Try, Macy Gray

When you're young, no-one ever tells you that acting like an adult requires effort.

I don't want to be the bigger person, I don't even necessarily want to be the kinder person

I will not begrudge someone for caring less for me than I do for them. The temptation is there though.

Welcome to age 28, it's all about extending your hand through your misgivings [of which there are too many].