So I thought this may be tangential, but it struck me that food and boys – well, they are not all that different. Easy to blame; love-to-hate-hate-to-love type relationship; vulnerable to emotional exploitation; etc. Basically I just wanted to share my thoughts on something that I feel I could write a whole Sex and the City episode about.
So what is it about a) me or b) them that manages to find me in this same situation time and time again? The situation where I have to initiate conversation, get things rolling, share of myself, fill in the awkward silences that develop as a direct function of my babble (or rhubarbia?, see below) vs their aloofness, etc. Except that this time, I knew that it wasn't option a. Here is the story…
I was informed by a certain well-meaning-someone that my email address had been passed on to a certain male-someone in a very faraway country. Sensible me assumed that perhaps this male-someone was coming to visit our shores and wanted to meet a sweet local with a deep appreciation of Melbourne’s lanes, cafes and gardens (ah the possibilities!). Yet I was promptly informed that he was staying put, I was staying put – and that perhaps the internet may be a nice way to bridge the many thousands of miles between us. Deep breath, not too happy about this but – I can be open-minded, I thought. After all that’s the way it happens in the states and Canada, or so I’d been told by a certain well-meaning-someone-else not too long ago. Besides the deed had been done, I’d merely been informed to expect an email.
The intrigue set in. Naturally there was the mandatory google search of the spartan details that I had been provided with. There were more than five professors at this particular faculty that could have been his father – and that was my starting point. You see, I was given the really important information.
It wasn't long before the email arrived. It looked very spam-esque and I was micromillimetres from the delete button when I realized that it was in fact the anticipated email.
“Hi there; This is x from x I would be happy to hear from you. attached please find my photo. Looking fwd to hear from you. Regards (x)”
Ouch. Squirm. I mean, really. What is it with guys that have nothing more to say than… nothing (Can you hear my inner-Carrie?!). I decided that I wasn’t going to make excuses for anyone; and I certainly wasn’t going to blame myself. That was just lame. I would have preferred a business offer from a Nigerian banker. At least I would have cracked a smile. “attached please find my photo”?! I would have preferred a CV, at this rate.
When it comes to boys, I’ve been told that I’m close-minded and picky. When it comes to other things, I’ve often been told that I’m so open-minded my brains may fall out.
Well, this is one thing that I’m content to be close-minded about. For the sake of standards!
Pass me some chocolate!!!