Back in the Saddle

So...

Over the past two months I have found myself once again associated with one horrible word. A word I though I was done with. A word I thought would never darken my doorstep again. Yet after only 6 months there is was hanging over my head like a ghostly demon. SINGLE.

I have to be honest, it's a word I loved and was defined by, for many years. But then, after a certain amount of time (and cruise ships) you get tired of it – and to find myself once again in the realm of all the other single white females looking for r. Right in the ocean of Mr. Wrongs… it was not only disappointing, it was terrifying as well.
So in typical Amy style, determined not to let my fears get to me…I grabbed this opportunity with both hands and said to the universe "OK YOU SPIRITUAL FUCKERS… GIVE ME WHAT YOU GOT"

Be careful what you wish for….

Dating is horrible. Being Australian, I come from a world where the etiquette of first date, second date, will he call, wont he call bla bla bla is not really a big deal. You meet someone… you like them… you get them drunk… you're with them. That's that.

Or is that just me?

Ladies and Gentleman sit back and relax and enjoy…. Amy's return to single life

Stage 1: He aint Mr. Right but he's Mr. Right now – a regression to my University years.

In the wake of the sudden singledom I retreated to Canterbury where my friend Helen is currently living. Tall, blonde and stunning, she is hilarious and wonderful and a weekend with her was just what the doctor ordered for my hurting heart. So out we went to the bar… and there we sat across the table from a bunch of guys… who, as it turned out, played in a rock band. If anyone knows me… they will know
EXACTLY what this equation means.

Amy + rock band = random drunken snogging.

And that is exactly what happened. Some how… we had found ourselves in what was calling it's self a drum and base club… which I think means loud shite mucis thumping with some guy on a microphone screaming something that sounded like

sugga bugg dodle way flooga fluugg mamma jay.

And there I was, against a wall, kissing what I thought in my drunken mind was a hot, sexy guitar player…

And then it was three am, the lights came on and I realised that shoving his lips against mine was a post pubescent, acne covered Pete Doherty wanna be.

And just like that… I ran out of the club.

Nice move Amy. You've travelled halfway around the world to behave like you did when you were seventeen… and twenty one… and who am I kidding.. twenty five…

Stage 2: He looked so good on paper… why communism was good in theory.

So… I decided I was going to actively try this "dating" thing. Go on a date… see if I like him and see where it goes from there. I was not a child of my early twenty's anymore.. I was looking for something more discerning. I deserved someone fabulous… and goddamn it I was going to go and get it.

Enter Dr. Doug.

28… Surgeon specialising in finding a cure for prostate cancer. Smart, funny, into photography…. And not to mention… GORGEOUS. This was perfect. He was perfect. And so I agreed to a coffee one afternoon.

He was absolutely lovely, a perfect gentleman and everything a girl could want. We sat there over our double strength skinny soy late`… and we chatted, we laughed, we found common ground… and we had a lovely time…

But….

Nothing. There was nothing there. Not a zap, not a kazaam, not even a spark. Nothing. Was I supposed to date people I felt nothing for and one day hope they'll turn around and be "the one?" Or was I going to have to wait another five years until I met someone for whom I'd drop everything for. I didn't know. So I pushed him onto his Piccadilly line tube and went home to quietly freak out about how I was obviously never going to ever find anyone I could possible love who could possibly love me and I was destined to die alone with only my cats to mourn me and then eat off half my face when they got too hungry.

Stage 3: Never… ever… go to Starbucks. How mass consumerism can ruin your life.

I am a self confessed coffee snob. I love the stuff, cant get enough of it… hook me up shove it in intravenously if you want… I'd drink it all day. And without it… I am not a happy lady. It's an addiction.. I admit it.. and it's a damn addiction that I love… okay!!! So back off…

On this particular day… I was suffering from a monumental "lack of coffee headache" and was in desperate need of some help. I happened to be standing out side the root of all evil… Starbucks. But I thought to myself…. "It's better than nothing.. one cup can't hurt that much… and those couches look just like ones off Friends."
Famous last words my friends. Famous last words…

I was sitting on the couches drinking my over milked, under caffeinated, over priced beverage, reading the ridiculous British news papers (Guess what Posh and Becks did today…) when a gentleman came and sat down next to me.


We started chatting, he was Canadian… a little bit older… was wearing glasses and a turtle neck… and I think… "What the hell? Why not?"

Fast forward to a week later and we are on our first date. He's splashing around money… promising to buy me presents… its all good… I'm thinking this could be fun…I could be that girl for a while… let him take care of me… spend some money on me…

Um… no. For the record… people who pick you up in Starbucks… are PSYCHOTIC.

The next day, after one date, I got about twenty five text messages from him referring to me as his girlfriend. That he was so lucky that he finally had found the girl he would be with for years to come.

Um… too much?? Yeah.. I thought so too…

SO when I sent him a polite text message suggesting that we calm down on the 'ol "girlfriend" terminology – the SHIT HIT THE FAN.

Or… at least the text messages came at me THICK AND FAST, calling me every name under the sun… it was like one of those old episodes of Batman…

"You're a KABAM… What a complete KABOOM… How can you treat men like this you WAPOW… You deserve to be THWACKED…" On and on and on they went… for three days…. Until either he got bored of my silence or his phone credit ran out… I think the last thing I heard from him was "you can play your mind games with the next guy you mess with… its just another notch in your bed you filthy WALLOP"

NOTE TO SELF… NEVER … UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES… GO BACK TO STARBUCKS.

And so there we were… the three stages of Amy's road back to single. Bumpy enough for ya?

But then something happened… a light went on in my head and I remembered… I don't live this life to find a boyfriend… I live this life for me!

And then it all came rushing back… what I do, who I am, where I am going.. . all of a sudden I felt so much stronger, completely focused and ready to take on the world - and off I went – running 100 miles an hour to what I want to be doing… (see the next blog for all of those details)

And then there I was… standing alone on my stage (figuratively and literally)… finally feeling proud again of who I am, what I live for and what I am placed on this earth to do.

And then the phone rang.

And it was the recent ex.

And he said everything I have been dying to hear for the past two months.

And I thought my heart was about to explode.

And then what happened?

We'll have to wait and see… watch this space my friends.