Category Archives: Musings

The Myth of the Quirky Girl

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Like most (female) children of the 80s and 90s, I got through adolescence on a steady diet of teen flicks, romantic comedies and the occasional Kevin Smith film. And before films with ‘adult themes’ and ‘coarse language’ were my staples, my diet was strictly Disney.

So like most people I know, I’ve been raised on stories that all have one thing in common – happy endings. And while I am loathed to admit this, these stories still float around in the back of my head trying to tell me the way things should be.

Disney taught me to expect Prince Charming, but only if I was pretty, had a nice singing voice, and wasn’t particularly challenging. Teen flicks taught me something much more insidious. Teen flicks taught me that even quirky, smart and unusual girls can expect Prince Charming.

… Ha!

I’m sorry. But quirky girls really aren’t in such high demand. At least not by all of these so-called perfect men. If we were, we wouldn’t need to see so many movies and read so many books where the quirky, neurotic girl finds a nice man who likes her – ‘just as she is’.

So what do I mean by the ‘quirky girl’? Well, if we take Molly Ringwald circa Sixteen Candles and Pretty in Pink as our archetype, quirky girls are different, smart, stand up for themselves and challenge or confuse men just enough to intrigue them. A bit like Drew Barrymore’s character in Ever After, or Bridget Jones. Although I’m not sure if the lovely Bridget could ever really be considered that smart.

If we look to the modern day quirky girls, like Nina Proudman from Offspring or Zooey Deschenel from New Girl (and every other role she’s ever played), quirky girls are also well-dressed, clumsy, have a suitably feminine profession, and have lots of good looking men floating around them. They also occasionally sing, do craft and freak out emotionally.

We love these characters because most of us can identify with some element of them. Hell, if this blog tells you anything about me it’s that I’m a clumsy, reasonably intelligent social worker with a penchant for making novelty cakes in the shape of penises. Oh. And I also have a Dinosaur Diorama in my sideboard. If anyone fits the ‘quirky girl’ mould, it’s me.

Sorry, it’s still new and I’m looking for any excuse to show it off

And at 29, no perfect man has suddenly appeared and loved me, ‘just as I am’. Nor do I expect one to.

I have been mulling over the issue of the quirky girl for some time and have consulted quite broadly. My conclusion is thus:

The myth of the quirky girl is that she can, and must, attract perfect, uncomplicated guys.

The reality is that the quirky girl attracts quirky guys. Who are just as crazy and complicated as she is. This is why she loves them.

Perfect guys are boring.

This also helps explain why dating and relationships can be so difficult for us quirky folk. Life is complicated, and despite our best efforts, we’re not always able to accept the quirk in others. And worse! We can gloss over signs and inconsistencies, or change ourselves in order to be with someone we think is perfect. But they never are.

I don’t know why we’re all holding out for someone perfect when they just have to be awesome.

But I do feel certain that Walt Disney and John Hughes are somehow to blame.

Post #586

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I’ve been lamenting to a few people recently that every time I log onto Facebook someone in my network has gotten engaged, married or birthed a child. People think I’m exaggerating, but I’m not. I reckon I’m seeing at least one birth and marriage per month. At least.

Don’t get me wrong, I am happy for everyone – I’m prone to bouts of jumping up and down and squealing in delight at work and everything. It’s just that the ‘life event’ news is coming so thick and fast these days it’s hard not to feel a bit left out.

I’ve always been a bit of an outlier, once drunkenly proclaiming “I barch to the meat of my own drum”. Generally, I am totally okay with this. I like who I am and I’m happy with my life. There’s always room for improvement, but for the most part, I do okay. And there are some  amazing people in my life who make it a joy to go out there and do my thing. So it’s hard to reconcile the feeling I get every time I see another wedding or a baby photo pop up on Facebook. It feels like a kick in the guts.

I don’t think it’s a jealousy thing. I have no desire to have children anytime soon, and even the thought of a wedding makes me anxious. Perhaps I feel excluded? The whole getting married and having children thing is becoming such an obvious social norm that I am nowhere near. Hrm.

Also, I probably feel a bit guilty. Sometimes I don’t even know folk are in a relationship until I see pictures of their babies. Whoops!

Add to this my increasing concern that I am becoming cynical about the prospect of falling in love et cetera, and you get one confused little Anne. An Anne that seems to be throwing a lot of hate at romantic movies these days. So much so that I am worried she may have given up hope on some sub-conscious or totally conscious level.

But! Earlier this week I saw this and just about melted. So I think I still have some hope  in me after all.

 

2011

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If I had to describe 2011 in one word it would be cacophony. It was a great big mishmash of everything wonderful and everything icky. From the death of my grandfather, my dog and for a little while there my hope, all the way to finishing my first year of  a Masters degree, getting a promotion, discovering new friends, treasuring old friends and buying my first apartment.

2011 had it all, and as I sat down to bring together my inevitable round up of the year it became very clear that it was as chaotically organised and expressed as it was lived – across no less than 5 different social media platforms.

So I present a summary of 2011 in a series of ‘Top 5s’ and occasionally ‘Top 7s’. All of which share a little something of the year that was. Here’s hoping 2012 will prove to be slightly less chaotic.

Top 5 Photos

Top 5 Blog Posts

Top 5 Badges Unlocked on FourSquare

Top 5 Songs

Top 7 Tweets

So Ronery

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It is truly a testament to our age that I had the following thought today:

"Thank God I have two or three social media accounts that I can whinge about study on. Otherwise I would totally start burning people out."

What I'm realising this week is probably a confirmation of what I already knew – not being around people makes me a little bit loopy.

Since moving into my lovely new abode I have been living alone. It was nice at first, a good break from having lived with people my entire life. That feeling lasted about two months, until one particular evening when sitting in front of some TV, doing some crochet and drinking some cidea thought came to me with a sudden clarity – this is a little bit lame. I need a flatmate.

Add to this the realisation that quite a number of my more positive personal habits are greatly enhanced by social imperatives, the urgency of acquiring a flatmate becomes apparent. Of course, this is just a fancy way of saying that I am much better at looking after myself when other people are around to prompt me to do things. Things like getting into my pajamas and turning all the lights off before falling asleep. Or cleaning the stovetop. 

Needing to be around people to enhance my sanity has become particularly noticeable this week, as I have taken time off work to plug through assignments. The theory behind this is sound – I get more work done when I don't have people around to talk to. But, it turns out not having a variety of people to blab on to everyday is really, really sucky. Hence my old friend social media stepping up to fill the void.

It could also be procrastination. Whatevz.

But! The end is in sight. I'm one assignment away from freedom and one bathroom rennovation away from a flatmate. But until then, I will just have to continue communing with the world via social media and potter around my house singing the following song …

 

The ‘P’ Bomb

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When you're single and you meet someone of the appropriate age and gender there's a kind of dance you do.

You smile, you flirt, you ask questions and listen patiently in a friendly, non-committal/unneedy sort of way. You let the conversation develop, sometimes helping it along. You laugh at the right jokes, you fire back witty (but not to witty) remarks, your eyes take on a extra little sparkle and then, it happens. The 'P' Bomb.

"Oh yes, my Partner is doing something similar for their PhD"

"My Partner's brother is really into motorcycles"

"My Partner and I recently went to Europe"

Or as it sounds in your head "My partner" followed by sound of static. You smile politely, maintain the friendly facade, make your excuses and quietly and quickly wander off – never to be seen from again.

It may seem callous and unfair, but when you're single you really do have better things to do than spend an excessive amount of time barking up the wrong tree. And as irritating as the 'P' Bomb is, I would argue that it is a social responsibility for all those in relationships to drop it. Because there is nothing more inpolite than a delayed or ill-timed 'P' Bomb.

Truth be told that in the absence of a wedding ring, it is fairly easy for single folk to go from an enjoyable conversation to a number swap or even a bed hop. We move swiftly. So in this rather crazy world of ours an early, yet delicate 'P' Bomb is absolutely vital. No one likes spending an hour or two flirting with someone only to be introduced to their fiancé as they arrive to pick them up. Nor does one like to being told of a spouse after having slept with someone.

And worse than those, are the overly agressive 'P' Bombs. You know the ones – they're of the accusatory "I have a girlfriend, I'm not going to f*** you" variety. These statemeants are at once overly presumptious and overly paranoid. But in many ways, these particular 'P' Bombs are the most useful – there is nothing quite so unattractive as being sworn at by someone you've just met and were just being polite to. These are the sorts of encounters that leave you both baffled that someone is actually dating this person, but also relieved – as you will never have to.

Ultimately, while both annoying to hear and annoying to drop – the 'P' Bomb is a fundamental necesity in the modern world. Although at this stage, I'd like to think that us single folk still reserve the right to complain dramatically and publically via social media whenever it is dropped. There's gotta be some perks to being on the receiving end, right?

The Anneguine.

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Have you ever been at a dinner party, or a team building day and for some reason, someone pipes up and asks you the question – “if you were an animal, what would you be?” This is not a question I’ve ever been able to answer. At least not properly. My response is usually something along the lines of “Well, I like elephants. They’re pretty cool. I guess I could be one of those”. But this week, everything changed. I have met my animal, and felt a solidarity I never expected. The animal? A penguin. A fairy penguin to be exact.

While holidaying in Melbourne with one of the most fabulous women around, we squeezed in a bit of time to head south to Phillip Island and see the penguin parade. We were more than a little bit excited. Indeed, I believe the phrase “Penguins, Bitches!!” was thrown around rather excessively. Mostly by me.

As we sat at dusk in the freezing cold on the southern coast of Australia, little penguins began to emerge from the ocean. And they were pretty bloody cute. As we watched the penguins emerge in groups, we began to notice a pattern. In each group there was always one penguin who was a little bit slower to clamber out of the ocean. They’d stumble, they’d stagger, they’d keep getting nailed by the waves and get dragged back out into the ocean. But the other penguins would wait patiently for them before moving into their nests, which according to our Finish guide, is where the party really begins.

While watching all of this the startling truth suddenly dawned on me – I am that penguin. I am an unco fairy penguin.

Efficient and skilled in some contexts, even prone to occasional grace. But not in all. Especially not when it comes to handling hot liquids, walking on wet surfaces or confronting feelings about boys. But fortunately for the Anneguine, her posse always waits patiently for her and love her anyway. And hopefully, from time to time, outsiders may even think of her as being at least half as cute as a fairy penguin.


The Anneguine. 

I should probably also confess that I may have bought a stuffed penguin, crocheted it a frock and bandaged its flipper. A bit weird? Yes. But she is my buxom penguin mascot, and I love her.

Digital Crushes.

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When you read a lot of blogs, frequent a lot of social media platforms, and are a total nerd, you're bound to develop the odd digital crush. I'd say I develop one at least once a year. It's strange to think that upon reading someones blog, their status updates or tweets you can start to get an inkling that they may in fact be your digital soulmate. 

Alas, these illusions are often shattered, usually when your crush updates their profile picture to one that includes a partner. Or they blog about their partner and children. Or they live in a different country. 

Maybe it's because I'm a blogger/writer, but when I read people's words, experiences and thoughts and they're funny, smart and similar to my own, I start to get a little bit smitten. And oh, don't even get me started about what happens when the online flirting commences. 

I've never managed to progress a digital crush into the real world, which is probably a good thing. I guess it's just nice to know there are folk out there who could be compatible with you and know that they are real people – not just characters in tv shows (I <3 you Ted Mosby!). Despite being just as unattainable. 

Still, it is an interesting phenomenon of our digital age to see someone you've never met pop up in your feeds, sigh and think – they're the one! 

PS – Did I mention that Sleepless in Seattle is my fave romantic pic?

Twenty-eight.

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A couple of years ago I read an article about a study that asked a number of people at what age they felt the happiest in their lives. The age when things had fallen into place and they were feeling contented. They averaged the responses and the golden age was 28.

And while I know I shouldn't put too much stock in studies I read about in Cosmo (although I'm sure I also read about it somewhere much more reputable), this one kind of stuck with me.

I've just finished reading the book my mother gave me for my birthday. It was all about taking control of your finances and 'living thin', but it also talked about something called the 'Saturn Return'. Apparently, it takes about 29.5 years from the date of your birth for Saturn to circle the sun, and when it finally swings around it brings all sorts of good astrological ju-ju into your life. Basically, it is a period of great transition. Why is this relevant? Well I guess it just lends a little bit more weight to the idea that those later years in your twenties are rather important. That good things, supposedly, will happen. 

Having just turned 28 a little over a week ago, I feel like something is happening. Something I didn't expect.

Someone recently asked me how old I was and for the first time ever, I felt uncomfortable answering honestly. "27" was always an age I could throw out flippantly with a flirtatious old-enough-to-know-better smile, but 28?

All of a sudden I feel like I should perhaps be more of an adult. And that my actions might, you know, have consequences. Suddenly, I'm thinking about mortgages, career directions and contributions to my super fund. None of which I've seriously considered before. And I'm thinking about relationships.

I know, I know – I'm always thinking about relationships. But it's starting to feel different.

I gotta say though, a week in and 28 doesn't particularly feel like my magical age of contentment. It feels more like its going to be a year of bloody hard work. A fortnight spent traveling with my family has lead to some forced sobriety and lots of contemplation. This holiday I finally read a book that was recommended to me many moons ago, and this book feels important. For the first time in a long time, I read a book that lead me to ponder not only the world, but my own world. And it will be interesting to see how that develops.

So what will 28 be about? Well, I'm going to start by working towards the two things that came to mind when someone asked me what would make me happy. These were – making things (crafting and writing) and being active. These may not sound like much, but when I return to the real world, they will no doubt prove to be very hard work.

On The Road Again

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On a lighter note, heres something I wrote earlier in the week, pre-flood

Have you ever been to a restaurant and eaten something so wonderful that every time you go back, you just can’t bring yourself to order anything else? Well, I think I’m starting to get that way with travel. Except that instead of the seafood banquet with mud crab and the pasta marinara, I find myself reordering Japan and the United States.

Having not made it overseas until I was 20, I’ve never really considered I myself much of a globetrotter. Especially not with a never ending stream of friends and acquaintances packing up their lives and living overseas in various exotic locales.

The first time I went overseas was in 03/04 with a group of friends. We went to the UK and had rad times despite the freezing cold and being in Edinburgh the year that hogmany was cancelled. We also went to Amsterdam, stayed in the red light district and in a rather unexpected turn of events, spent much more time seeing great art than being stoned. Which was actually quite nice.

Since then I’ve explored a modest number of countries with Japan and America being my favourites so far. Japan, because it’s never what you expect, and it’s fun to just roll w the crazy. Oh, and they have heated toilet seats – awesome! And America because the people are fab, the men are gorgeous and bookstores are open till 11pm every night. Actually, it’s very possible that I just like countries with economies and populations so big that I can shop whenever I want.

Maybe that’s why I like Melbourne so much? (but not in that incredibly snobby – oh, it’s just so European and so much cooler than Brisbane sort of way)

And if me writing a blog post on my iPad in a well-furnished apartment in Neiseko, Japan hadn’t already given it away, I should probably mention that I am not the backpacking kind. I travelled with a backpack once. Never again.

These days most of my travel, both domestic and international is centered around professional development and visiting friends. Destination weddings are my favorite so far, they bring together such a great collection of people – something I find myself pining for these days.

Yes, now that we’re all hot young professionals kicking bottom in the real world, travel with peers is so much rarer. These days, most folk travel with their partners and the rest of us just book in holidays whenever we can and try to find travel buddies later. And as much as I am adoring this incredibly lush, incredibly awesome trip to Japan, watching bunches of mates, young families and couples in love rock out while I chill with my parents and 16 year old bro is tougher than I expected.

Of course this is not helped by the fact that something about air travel alway makes me really randy.

And I cant help but ponder what I always ponder when I travel, when o when am I going to get to do this with a partner that I can have all sorts of crazy holiday sex with?

Sigh. A girl can dream.

Meanwhile, here is a picture of me in the snow! And yes, my worrisome father has insisted that I wear a helmet when skiing. I’m not sure when helmets became in-vogue skiing attire. But they’re everywhere!

Resolved.

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Well, my new years eve/day celebrations had just about everything – good food, good friends, good booze, amazing hot tubs, sausage dogs, Bailey's, obligatory 3am tears, bad movies, more beer and more great friends. Still, as I morosley expressed in last night's hot tub, I've been struggling to get excited about 2011.

I was really pumped for 2010. It was going to be my year – totally. awesome. But I've walked away feeling a bit meh. And while in many ways I have totally kicked butt this year, there have been some rather unfun and unsavoury moments that have removed some of life's gloss.

I suppose you could probably just consider these knocks and scrapes the stuff of 'growing up', but my gosh – don't they just suck balls? I mean, seriously? Why must life keep twisting and turning and requiring me to friggin' learn things about myself?? All of this 'self reflection' and 'growing as a person' malarkey is really very taxing on my mood, my body and yes, I'm going to say it – my bank balance.

And yet, in typical Anne fashion I have an enormous list of things to achieve in the coming year. So in keeping with tradition, here is my list of resolutions for 2011, in no particular order:

  • Learn how to ride a bike
  • Drink less, sew more
  • Pay off credit debt in order to consider new and more bountiful debt aka 'a mortgage'
  • Seek professional supervision/mentoring
  • Consider studying again
  • Start up dance/dance-fitness again – rediscover the joy of movement!
  • Go back to Weight Watchers – things have gotten out of hand. It's time.
  • Be kinder to myself – recognise and value the diversity within.
  • Start accepting set-ups and blind dates. Seriously, what is there left to lose?
  • And when it comes to romance – just chill. the. fuck. out. And be brave. 

I have extremely mixed feelings about the year ahead. But at the same time I feel quite determined to work on the above list. So what do you reackon peeps? Do you think I can do it all?

I think that maybe I can.