Why I don’t trust people with the name voldemort

Dear future self,

If your brain says;
‘his name is voldermort, that’s probably a bad sign’
Then it is a bad sign.

Accept it.


As a part of my fruitless, drunken, persuit of my next great date or horizontal dance partner, on Thursday night I had one of my top gal pals accompany me to a bar in the city, and act as quality control for potential male talent (because lets face it, I need help). (more…)


Why I am a flamingo

Dear Future Self,

Don’t hang out with guys that want to date you. Thats how you end up on an accidental date.

Also, you are definitely a flamingo.



Recently there was a band touring Melbourne who I really wanted to see and none of my trusty music event friends were available for the gig.
Allowing not for defeat, I decided my best bet would be to ask this guy I dated 4 years ago because we saw this band on our first date. We were still on good termsso that’s not weird, right?
Wrong. Because the important piece information which I had elected to ignore was the matter of his recent and  frequent apology texts for his behavior whilst we were dating and asking for a second chance. (more…)

Why I’m not doing it right (tinder, that is)

Dear Future Self,

If these are your tinder stats:

Matches: 47
Conversations: 7
Conversations with people you didn’t already know: 2
Number Exchanged: 1
Dates asked on: 2
Dates gone on: 0

You aren’t doing it right.


P.S Tinder will not match you with local cats.


Why I think I finally have a crush

Dear Future Self,

A single good date does not constitute a marriage in the works, so keep calm and keep your pants on at all times.

And for heavens sake, please don’t ruin this by being.. well, you.

I’d really appreciate your co-operation on this one


So, here it is; the Valentines date.

We struggled to work out a good time to see a movie due to both working later than expected, and that conversation somehow ended in him suggesting we just hang out at my place.

Cue me: *panic*


Why I have to buy a new razor before Friday.

Dear Future Self,

You probably should put in a bit of effort for this one.

You know, like give the man a treat and shave your legs or something.


The guy I’ve been dating has been overseas and got back some time last week and has been trying to organise time to hang out.

Before he left, we’d been trying to get together for our third date (wink, nudge) but perhaps consequent of my general disinterest in anyone who wasn’t my ex, neither of us were able to match schedules.  Despite my +24 hour response text response times he suggested he’d like to catch up on his return. Vaguely remembering how hot he’d look in a suit if we got married, I agreed.