Tag: dating

He Only Had Himself to Blame

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

The number 8 is meant to be fortuitous in the realm of Chinese superstition. Unfortunately, suitor number 8 was anything but. And given that this was my first date after returning from a trip overseas, I had been secretly hoping for some excitement and adventure. Alas, the only excitement I ever got on the date was the sudden downpour that met me as I clambered out of the car and rushed to the station, which was then followed by a fast-flowing river of water that I had wade past to arrive at our meeting spot. Suffice it to say, by the time I arrived, my shoes and socks were completely soaked. A distraction that would prove to take up much of my thoughts as you, dear readers, will see.

But while the above paragraph paints a date of disastrous proportions from the very beginning, it was still very much an exaggeration of the events. I mean, yes, I did have squelchy shoes and wet socks but it wasn’t the worst situation I’ve been in.

I met number 8, who I shall henceforth name Mr Cellophane to keep up with the Chicago theme (but also because I found him rather bland), just outside a dessert cake store at Darling Square. While he was polite, even messaging me beforehand if he could shout me a coffee (which, I’ll have you know, I turned down because you never know how others might interpret an act of kindness), I couldn’t help but judge his outward appearance. True, he wasn’t as badly dressed as some of the others I’ve met but what is with men and the fact that they think they can get away with an unbuttoned collar shirt and baggy pants that need a good ironing?

That aside, Mr Cellophane had chosen a table outside where any errant wind could have us soon soaked to the skin! After arriving at the store and turning the corner, I spotted him seated at a small table. As well as an empty table inside through the glass. Given the downpour I had just endured, I suggested that we sit inside rather than risk getting wet if the wind decided to change direction. 

There are days when the rain falls almost laterally! And a roof over one’s head does nothing if there are no walls to also deflect those pellets of water!

Mr Cellophane was amenable enough to the change and we found ourselves safely ensconced inside the cafe within seconds. 

As he had never visited the store before, he was the first to choose a cake. When he had returned to the table, he was sporting a small slice of red velvet and cherry cake. Then it was my turn to pick and choose a delightful treat to accompany some relaxing small talk. I chose a light sponge cake with strawberry and pistachios.

Once I had paid for it and my hot chocolate, I joined Mr Cellophane back at the table we had claimed. Throughout it all, I learned he had a sister and mother. His father, while alive, was out of the family picture. The reason he gave was a little vague but it was clear that his father had done a bad thing.

And then we moved on to work, games and a few of his hobbies. He did occasionally ask me a few questions but it was Mr Cellophane that mostly dominated the conversation. Probably, he wanted to fill in any awkward silences. He was very nervous throughout the whole affair if the visible shaking was any indication. But because of that, I felt like I could never really get a word in edgewise. He would just steamroll through everything, from the fact that he LARPs with BattleCry (yes, I’ve hard about it. At one point, I was even tempted to join) to the fact that he went hiking with a few friends).

Did I ever raise the fact that I went travelling recently? Nope. Why? Well, he never asked and I never did get the opportunity to do so. He was just so busy talking about his life – which, can be my fault. I do encourage them to keep talking – that I merely sat there eating my cake and finishing off my drink before he even got half-way through his own.

Yet despite the fact that he was in his own world, nattering on about the things that he liked and his current situation, I couldn’t help but find him utterly dull. His was a life that was almost like any other. There wasn’t anything special to write home about. Just another face in a sea of thousands.

Not a great place to be in.

So, when we finally vacated our spots, mostly to let a group of three sit down and actually enjoy the kurtosh they had ordered, we meandered towards the train station. Of course, he told me that it was a lovely date and he thought we had a connection and that I was wonderful and beautiful.

Why do men fixate on appearance? Please tell me more about my stunning personality and/ or whatever else you might have found engaging. Oh, that’s right, you didn’t get to hear me nerd out about my writing or whatever else because you simply dominated the conversation and allowed me the occasional one-liner zingers that got you chortling!

If I sound somewhat irked, it’s because I’m starting to wonder if I should be dating men at all. 

To be perfectly honest, I think a part of me would prefer to date women. Of course, it can’t just be any woman. They’d have to be a ball of sunshine to my snarky grump. The Enid to my Wednesday. But once they get past that outer layer of bah humbug! they’d find that I can be just as kooky and mischievous and kind-hearted as any chaos gremlin. I mean, staying at home is great but it’s also great to enjoy some fun in the sun and maybe boogie where nobody is watching.

And I did get to enjoy some of that when I was on my overseas trip. It’s a shame that the woman was married and probably wasn’t into other women, though. 

Still, friendship is always an avenue that I’m keen to explore. And it’s always good to expand one’s horizons, I find, and trying new things instead of doubling down on only the familiar. 

And yet, despite all my misgivings with Mr Cellophane, I tried to go for a second date. After all, I was very much distracted by my wet shoes and socks (I think I mentioned it about three or four times). So, we made tentative plans to do so. But during the week til Easter, as we were occasionally texting (and I had to look after my grandmother because my mother had gone on a cruise), I was a little lacklustre in my responses. Didn’t help, of course, that the topics he chose to talk about were very…unexciting. 

To be fair, some of the blame could be laid at my feet as I didn’t try my hardest to be as engaging as possible. But paired with going out, looking out my grandmother and feeling honestly drained from the work week I had, could you blame a girl? 

So, of course, Mr Cellophane became much more hesitant about the whole thing and sought out my opinion before he pulled the plug. Seeing that he was pulling away and not wanting to lead him on with false promises (but still willing to give it a second go just in case), I let him decide and wished him a Happy Easter.

He unmatched me soon after.

Which somewhat bothered me. After all, I was the one that wasn’t attracted to him. That right ought to have gone to me!

Regardless, we shall see how well my dating goes from here on out. Unfortunately, I don’t see it going very well. Most of these dating excursions have me thinking with my head rather than letting my heart decide. And almost always, I find something lacking in a potential partner.

Still, one must persist! For the time being.

At the very least, I’m meeting new people and getting to understand new perspectives. So, that’s a win!

Probably…

Maybe…

Kinda…

Maybe after a year, I’ll pack it all up and just go back to my fictional boyfriends and/ or girlfriends. Why? Well, I’m an independent person who don’t need another individual to define who they are! And I love myself for being the unique combination of chaos gremlin and sarcastic homebody grouch that I am.

Rat Race Escape

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Even weeks after the fact, I wonder whether or not if it was pity or something else that drove me to undertake a journey that was roughly an hour and a half down the motorway on a weekend to meet up with Bachelor number 7. It’s a difficult situation to navigate, especially when I consider how incompatible our lifestyles currently are. And yet I also don’t want to cut off all connection immediately, fearing that if I do, he might believe it was a poor reflection on his part. Still, it won’t be fair to string him along for too long either. Particularly if if he’s hoping for something more and it’s not something I can deliver.

Ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself. I must needs tell the story from the beginning, yes? Provide context and build up a tantalising narrative for you, dear readers, to enjoy.

So, where to start? Well, it should be known that my meet-up with bachelor number 7 was my first one for the year of 2023. From the end of November 2022 to February 2023, I was caught up in holiday celebrations. While I did chat with a few other individuals during this time, and they did ask to arrange a meet-up, they simply didn’t provide much in terms of substance.

One was a Daddy’s boy, reporting to his father every interaction we shared. It didn’t help that his father was adamant about fighting his son’s battles for him as well, constantly calling and messaging my mother as we had met before through our shared mortgage broker. Goodness, if I could strangle but one man, it would be this man’s father.

The other was someone a friend of mine tried to set me up with. His first text, no joke, was: hi Kyndaris, someone gave me your number. If I didn’t know already that someone might text me out of the blue, I would have either blocked them or gone: new number, who dis? Since I was aware, I asked if he was Mister Blah n Blah. His response? how did you know? So, when he asked me out, I denied him. If a man is not going to put in the effort into texting about himself (he said he doesn’t like revealing himself too much through text – but gosh, why would I be a scammer? We were introduced by a mutual friend At least give me something. You aren’t even a cute himbo!)

Sorry. Where was I? Ah yes, so after a few missteps earlier in the year, and during late 2022, I started chatting with Bachelor number . He is five years younger than me and had liked one of my photos or had left a comment on one of my prompts – I can’t quite remember. But as I was perusing his profile, wondering if I ought to reject or match with him, I noted that he was wearing a lot of Kingdom Hearts related paraphernalia. That was my kind of fandom.

Honestly, it doesn’t take much to impress me. 

So, we started our burgeoning ‘relationship’ through Kingdom Hearts. After all, I was convinced that any fan of the franchise couldn’t be terrible. And even if nothing eventuated, we could still be friends! At least, that’s my hope. For now, we’ll just call him…Ansem (so I don’t have to call him Bachelor number 7).

But I will say that there wasn’t much in terms of practicality to our relationship. Yes, we had a few shared interests but as one of my work colleagues pointed it, if the relationship was ever going to lift off the ground, it would need a lot of work. And, to be honest, she was right. Ansem told me quite quickly that was on the autism spectrum – diagnosed with Asperger’s when he was younger. He also recently had brain surgery. As such, he was currently taking a break from working retail at the local Reject Shop. Although, he did have aspirations to work in politics in the future, be it local or state related.

As yet, though, he had no immediate plans about what he truly wanted to get into.

The vibe I also got, as we were chatting, was he might not be as flexible as I would have liked when it came to stepping out of his comfort zone. And that may come from the fact that he was neurodivergent (no judgement there). Which makes a lot of sense as one of my old high school classmates, who was later diagnosed with autism later in life, told me how they very much disliked it when their plans went awry. And that it was very difficult for them to adjust to change – leading to friction during a trip to Europe in their early twenties. 

So, with Ansem, I felt like he was very much fixed in his ways and sticking to how he foresaw the day going without too much deviation. One example that sprung to mind was the cafe that he offered as a meeting point. Even though there wasn’t much in terms of food options, he never volunteered another place as a substitute once we had glanced through the very short and select menu. Although, now that I think on it, he probably didn’t much care as he had an early lunch just prior.

There were other limitations too. Ansem didn’t drive. And I got the sense that he wouldn’t be very interested in moving away from his home in Shellharbour and heading to the big city. 

Whereas my job was in the big city. As were most of my friends, although we lived in separate suburbs that weren’t just a street away. 

Those were two major factors that were immutable and I wasn’t very inclined to move to a place that would lengthen my already long commute to work every day.

But worse, in the grander scheme of things, I was further along the path of life than he was.

In summary, it simply felt that our lifestyles were simply incompatible. We might have shared a lot of similar interests and were both only children but that was where it ended. Even our relationships with our parents were different. Not to mention what we wanted out of our lives. 

He did comment once that he saw little worth in money. And while I agreed with his sentiments, living paycheck to paycheck isn’t appealing either. I’m not trying to say that his view was wrong, given the fact that money is really just an ephemeral concept where we place value on scraps of paper that can be used in exchange for goods and services, but I also don’t want to be turned out on the street and just toeing that poverty line. Not that he was homeless, but it felt like with Ansem that there wasn’t much he aspired to be. Except maybe being a politician somewhere down the track. Whenever that might be. He certainly didn’t seem to be in any rush.

So, could the relationship work? Maybe. But it would need a lot of blood, sweat and tears. 

Still, the door remains open for another date and feeling out where it might go. Hopefully, we can arrange a date at a place that a middle ground for where the two of us live. But if it continues to be long distance (yes, yes, I know that we’re in the same country and also in the same state but driving one and a half hours for someone I barely know and haven’t formed any definite feelings for is a lot of investment!) I don’t think it’ll last. Especially if I feel like I’m not getting as much, as the saying goes, ‘bang for my buck.’

One of my friends mentioned having to chaperone her now-husband a lot back during the time that they were dating. But back then, they lived far closer than Ansem and I currently do. And they also had a year of friendship to buil up on. Ansem, for all intents and purposes, is just someone I’ve met in-person once and had a somewhat average first meeting.

Don’t get me wrong, it was fun to talk about the things we were both passionate about and shared in common. But as with most of the first dates I’ve gone on, I’ve found myself always passively listening to their much more excitable chatter. Not that I mind. I do engage and add a bit of dialogue to guide the conversation, but I often find it easier to see what the opposite party wants to talk about and then offer my two cents as needed. It provides a little insight into who they are and allows me to weigh up the pros and cons of what the relationship may entail. But maybe it also distances me from making a true connection.

Is it the wrong approach? Perhaps. But I don’t think there’s a right approach to dating either. This is no smut story where I swoon at the hottest guy that even thinks to look in my direction.

I can be witty and provide excellent banter if required, but the circumstances need to be just right if that is to happen. And with Ansem, that may be a struggle. For better or worse, I’m still wrapped up in the rat race and haven’t given much thought yet to retiring to the south coast seaside. Still, all hope is not quite lost just yet. But as ever, Shrek does appear to be the best contender when it comes to affairs of the heart.

On the plus side, I did get a few nice brochures for possible walks in the Illawarra region in case my friends ever decide to do some hikes in the near future out of the trip!

But let’s just say that a cheese and bacon baguette was not what I was expecting for lunch. 

Quiet

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Almost after the first date, Spring was busy trying to plan the second. Initially, we had settled for a film. Spring, after all, was incredibly intent on watching the latest masterpiece from the director behind Your Name and Weathering with You: Suzume no Tojimari. Unfortunately, the date for when it would arrive on western shores was still a little far off. And so, Spring scrambled to find a replacement film for the two of us to watch in an attempt to keep the time between the first meetup and a second date shorter than three to five months. A considerable period of time – especially if one is hoping to pursue the hope of something romantic.

At first, he suggested Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. A film I had already watched recently with a work colleague in the best (and most expensive) way possible. Yes, that’s right dear readers. I spent $44 to be pampered in Gold Class with its reclining seats and food deliveries! 

Was it a ridiculous waste of money? 

Yes. But it was a nice enough novelty to experience at least once in my life.

But was Spring going to cough up that kind of cash for a unique experience? Hell no!

Running out of options, he then wondered perhaps if we ought to go for karaoke instead. A sudden change from what would have been an innocuous movie outing. Annoyed at his inability to stay the course, I sternly chided him on his decision to switch to karaoke with just two people AND while only on the second date when we were still testing the waters.

It didn’t help that I could already predict the songs he would be selecting. And I did not relish having a sober karaoke session with a man that was already giving me bad vibes. Especially when it seemed that all he wanted out of a relationship was a female version of himself.

That, and the fact that he thought it was a sign of old age to just ‘listen to the radio’ instead of throwing up Spotify to listen to his curated playlist. Reading that text message, dear readers, was enough for me to roll my eyes at the inanity of his ‘observations.’ 

Let it be known here and now that I’ve been listening to the car radio for as long as I can remember. Was 5-year-old Kyndaris ‘old’ because I hadn’t been able to listen to anything except the radio and was unable to put music that I was interested in?

Realising his faux pas, Spring then tried to backtrack, racking his brain for any film that would entertain. But rather than pick a date and review what might be available during those times, he just offered up Black Adam – a film that he had already seen and was about to end its run in cinemas. So, I pivoted to a few other films by checking to see what was available in cinemas in the back half of November. The Menu and Matilda: The Musical were the ones I selected as being the best choices from the paltry selection available. At least for the day that we finally settled on to go on our second date.

Spring was picky about that too. He had hoped for a weekend, but being the busy little bee that I was, I couldn’t find time to cater to his request on the weekend that Matilda: The Musical was showing in cinemas. I did offer up a Thursday but Spring didn’t want to go out on a work night. This was despite the fact that he wanted a Monday date when he had just got back from Europe and therefore had plenty of free time.

In the end we opted for a Friday.

But I still feel obliged to say my piece: Mate, I’m sorry but the world does not revolve around you! And just because I’m ‘flexible’ doesn’t always mean that your ‘preferences’ will come first. Please think about what might be convenient too for other people or compromising should schedules potentially clash!

As you can see, dear readers, Spring had certainly pressed a few of my buttons. And not in a good way.

So, finally after settling for a date on a Friday to watch Matilda: The Musical (Spring was keen to tell me that he had watched two other musicals before. Never, of course, at the theatre, but film versions. Grease and possibly Hairspray? I can’t remember the second one he mentioned), we set up a time to meet up on the day. 

Unfortunately for Spring, bad traffic on the way home meant he was running a little late. By the time he had arrived, I’d purchased a few cheese tarts for my family and already had the movie tickets in my wallet, ready to whip them out as soon as we were asked to show them for entry.

Although he was late, we were still able to sneak in a quick dinner at Sushi Rio located close to the cinemas without cutting too much into the viewing time of the film. After all, there’s always 20-30 minutes of advertisements now before the feature. 

As we were eating our plates of sushi, I happened to glance to my right  and saw a friend and her boyfriend also indulging in a few plates of sushi after a shopping adventure for anime figurines. On the premise of just checking the time, I’d subtly texted her. To my dismay, he was not one to check her phone messages. And seeing that my message had gone unread, I then tried desperately to remain unnoticed. A very difficult feat because, mind you, this was at a sushi train and I had to look in their general direction to see what delectable sushi I might pluck off the conveyor belt. And they were less than ten metres away. 

Suffice it to say, my efforts were in vain.

After they had finished their meal, they approached and said ‘hi.’ Embarrassed a little that I’d been caught on one of my many ‘dates’ to find the one, I don’t recall if I introduced Spring. I do think I might have mentioned that the two of us were watching a film but I didn’t want to exactly define our relationship as yet. In my head, after all, I knew it wouldn’t go much further than this second date if I had any say in the matter.

So, after a brief catch-up chat with the friend and her boyfriend, Spring and I headed into the cinemas to watch Matilda. 

And I’ve got to say, it was an excellent film. While people online have compared it the 1996 classic starring Danny DeVito and Mara Wilson, this was a beast of a different nature. it was an adaption of the stage musical, which was itself an alternate interpretation of the novel by Roald Dahl. The musical itself had visited Sydney a few times though I hadn’t been able to catch it live.

But from the opening number, you could see that it was meant to be a fun, quirky and magical experience. Although I did feel like Matilda’s precognition abilities were a ham-fisted attempt to provide some backstory for Miss Honey. Honestly, Miss Honey’s parents being an escapologist and trapeze artist was just a little…unbelievable.

Still, I liked many of the songs. Be that: Naughty, When I Grow Up, School Song and Revolting Children.

And even Spring was mightily impressed by the dance choreography. He even said that it was more impressive than the cinematic blow-by-blow of superhero films because of all the editing tricks and the green screens. Gosh, my dear readers, wait until he sees musicals live on the stage! Then he’d be really blown away!

Okay, that was probably a little unfair on Spring, but I was already tired of his ‘gosh, work sucks’ attitude and ‘I’m surrounded by such normie work colleagues’ chatter. It just seemed like he simply wasn’t interested in getting to know those around him on a human level. Rather, he’d write them off as one-note side characters in his main story life.

It was honestly not the best experience to see how callous and ego-centric he saw the world. And while he might have explored more of the world than an ex-friend of mine, the narrow way that they perceive the outside world was just tiring to endure. All of ‘his’ observations were apparently new and sudden and unique. No one else was singing his song. And oh, how wonderful would it be if he could just find someone that could like what he liked.

Did I mention that one of the people he dated was someone I knew at university? No? Well, there you have it.

And I’m not sure if it was a red flag or a green flag.

Regardless, when we went our separate ways at the train station after the film, we exchanged a few messages afterwards about the fact that common sense is no longer really ‘common’ anymore and that was about it. I’m not sure who ghosted who but at least it was a mutual one.

And thank goodness for that.

A Jaded Bookstore

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

A week or so after my date with Spring, I met up with bachelor number 6. Tall, Caucasion, with a head of wild unruly curls and younger than me by four years, he was the only one to offer the date that I’d been craving from the start. A first date at Kinokuniya – the Japanese bookstore in the heart of the city. So, you can imagine the dilemma I found myself in. How could I say ‘no’ to books? Even if the date turned out terribly, it was simply impossible to tear myself away from the bait that had been lain before this bookworm.

Not that there were any immediate red flags when it came to Mr 6 – who shall henceforth be called Benoit. Plus, it was going to be a date in the middle of the day AND it was in a populated store. No chance of being brutally murdered. I hoped.

Benoit met me outside the store. Or, at least he tried to, but since I’m a slippery eel of a bookworm, I’d managed to sneak in and head to my favourite section: Fantasy and Science Fiction. After looking through a few titles, I saw a notification on my phone and responded sheepishly that I had slipped into the store but would try to meet him at the entrance. Once introductions were properly made, we resumed roaming the shelves of my favourite genres and chatted generally about our lives.

Much of the conversation devolved into him – Benoit – asking me a few questions and me responding. Once I had finished, I often had to remind myself to reverse the question and learn more about him as well. You know, simple getting to know each other stuff. A dance one would think I’m already aware of having gone on quite a few first dates.

Alas, I can see why people want to skip the small talk.

Regardless, somehow the conversation came round to Rian Johnson’s Knives Out film. It was probably because I was recounting how utterly disappointing Amsterdam was. In any case, we both expressed our delight at the upcoming Glass Onion film (yes, this was in early November 2022. I know the post is up in February 2023 but give a girl a break when it comes to detailing the adventures of her love life, will you?), even as we strolled through the Fantasy and Sci-Fi section for several long minutes as I pondered what books to buy.

Was I disappointed that he didn’t offer to buy my books for me? A bit. But in our current economy (or the economy of November 2022), it didn’t feel appropriate to demand such favourable treatment. Especially when Benoit was still studying to be a speech pathologist. 

Can you imagine? Truly? Me, the woman was raking in more dough – albeit saddled with a hefty mortgage – requesting a poor penniless University-aged boy (okay, they probably aren’t that destitute nor is the world so Dickensian) to buy me gifts on the first date? It just wouldn’t be fair. 

After all, I’m a strong independent woman who don’t need to man. Except maybe Henry Cavill’s depiction of Geralt of Rivia. Or Viggo Mortensen’s portrayal of Aragon?

Phew! When did it get so steamy in here? And what was I talking about again?

Ah, that’s right. The date with Benoit. So, because we both liked our mystery thriller films and Benoit himself was fascinated by accents, especially the ridiculous one affected by Daniel Craig, his codename was formed.

Once I had roamed my fill, I walked away with two novels. Benoit, too, had also picked out a novel he had been eyeing for a while. Jade City by Fona Lee. Apparently he, like a bookish online friend that I know who reads this blog but doesn’t like or comment on these posts, had also fallen for quite a few Chinese authors and was also dabbling with their online works. He also heaped quite a bit of praise on Cixin Liu and the Three-Body Problem. 

It’s probably a sign that I ought to buy a few of his novels and give them a spin myself. See what the fuss is all about.

By the time we had shopped to our hearts content, our stomachs were grumbling for food. Eager to have a variety of options for lunch, we headed towards Pitt Street Mall and the food court on the upper levels rather than the one down underneath Myers. After all, this was a first-rate date. It needed to be fancy. No expensive McDonalds burgers for us!

Though Benoit was able to settle for a karaage rice bowl, I was less decisive with my food options. It wasn’t after a few minutes of looking through everything that was on offer before I settled on going Greek and grabbed a pita wrap from Zeus Street Greek.

FANCY!

And just like our conversation in the bookstore, Benoit would ask me question after question. I suppose the one thing I felt could have been better was if he allowed some topics to breathe. Instead of dissecting more on the lore of World of Warcraft, he would jump to the number of pets I had rather than allow for a sizable rant about what the writers had done to poor Sylvanas character and the blatant favouritism shown to the Alliance over Horde leaders.

Not that I’ve played World of Warcraft much over the years. I’ve dabbled with it but each new expansion seems to retcon backstory or walk back character developments so quick as to give anyone that wants to follow the lore whiplash.

Regardless, I learned that he had an older sister that had gotten him invested into the Warcraft universe, that he wasn’t much of a comic reader and that he had gone back to university to pursue something he was passionate about instead of coasting on his first degree that had proven to be less than enjoyable.

Once lunch was done, we even had pancakes at gram!

Big fluffy pancakes that left me stuffed and unable to move.

But as with all good things, the date had to come to an end. As we both took the train, we headed to the closest train station. And as we said our goodbyes, Benoit leaned over and gave me a hug before I could duck out of the way! The sheer nerve of the man! How dare he! 

Still, trying to be polite, I patted him awkwardly on the back and so, the date concluded.

While I like to keep an open mind, a part of me wonders if Benoit will be the one. He did offer a second date to watch Glass Onion when it was in cinemas but I was busy during that time. A disappointment, to be true, but after I’d managed to catch it on Netflix, I was able to provide him with quite a few insights on what I thought about the sequel movie to Knives Out. 

Can I just say that the ending, as they were smashing the glass statues, I was honestly terrified for Helen’s feet. She was wearing open-toed sandals for goodness sake! She could have totally cut herself up if she hadn’t been careful!

Other than that, my favourite character was Peg and her ‘so done with this bullshit’ attitude when it came to dealing with Birdie. I don’t think I could ever willingly get into such a toxic codependent relationship – be it with a partner or friends – but I loved how Jessica Henwick portrayed Peg in the film. Including her outfits that weren’t quite cool enough.

Don’t get me started on the stretching in the background when everyone was still getting introduced. So good!

Long story short, I just wanted an outlet to talk about Glass Onion following everyone falling in love with Daniel Craig as the gay southern detective. And maybe ruminate on relationships? I don’t know. Probably not.

It just felt good to chat with someone that I can connect with when it came to talking about mystery who-dunnits. Now we just need Kenneth Branagh’s Hercule Poirot (I’ve honestly been loving the Murder on the Orient Express and Death on the Nile. The fact that Emma Mackey got to display her acting chops beyond Sex Education is GREAT!) to go up against Daniel Craig’s Benoit Blanc and see who is the superior scenery chewing detective with a ridiculous accent.

What? You want more? You’re saying that it’s not enough to just chat about something I like and that you want a deep discourse about the human condition or something something connection with another being?

Fine. Well, there’s still the second date with Spring that I can ruthlessly dissect for your reading leisure. Stay tuned to the next episode of…

DATE 2.0: The Kyndaris Story.

Yes, I’ve even added a secondary title to it. I hope you’re happy about living vicariously through my relationship failures.

Humdrum Blues

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

A couple of days after what felt like an excellent and fun date with Shrek, I had a meet-up with another of the hopefuls. His codename? Honestly, it’s pretty hard to come up with these. And there wasn’t anything about him that really jumped out. So, for now, let’s simply call him ‘Spring.’ The other ones I thought of using would only serve to be insulting for a group of individuals that I somewhat connect with but don’t delve as deeply with.

What to say about Spring? Well, initially, he initially portrayed himself as a worldly individual. After all, with borders lifted and international travel reinstated, he was enjoying a quick holiday in London (of all places)! In the land of Harry Potter and mythical legends, he was enjoying the sights and sounds of a proper autumn.

To be frank, I was perfectly jealous. After all, I had wanted to visit the UK again back in 2020. Of course, those dreams were summarily dashed with the coming of COVID-19.

So, after a few chats – where I complimented his cosplay game (although he didn’t actually make them himself), he was eager for a meet-up in person. Consequently, he set up a date a few days after his return to Sydney. That day, of course, being a Monday. For him, it was fine. He was, after all, still on leave and could enjoy a workday outing without the pressure of work the next day. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite take into account my own circumstances: a working woman that had a job in the new central business district (CBD) in the heart of Western Sydney. But hey, I’m a flexible lady. So, I accepted going on a date. On a Monday.

When we first started chatting, Spring was eager to show me around the city and talked about all the Japanese food in and around the Galeries (which, honestly, I could have also told him about), but then he forwent all our previous discussions and asked if I liked Italian. Blindsided a little and a bit miffed that I wouldn’t be enjoying sushi or a nice bento set, I told him that Italian was fine. Armed with that knowledge, he made arrangements for a meet up outside an Italian restaurant near the Apple Store on George Street in the heart of the city. 

Little did I know that he hadn’t actually booked anything. He was hoping to wing it because it was a Monday night and there wasn’t that many people out and about.

If I could shake him, I would. Who flip flops this much in life? Still, at this stage, I didn’t quite know about his tendency to posit suggestions before changing his mind abruptly. Forget women, Spring is the very epitome of Katy Perry’s Hot N Cold. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

After arriving at the city a bit earlier than the designated meeting time, I made a pitstop at Kinokuniya to take a look through the new released at Kinokuniya. Even then, I arrived at the restaurant with minutes to spare. Spring was already there, though, staring at his phone as he waited. 

Introductions were then properly made before we entered the establishment. Seated at our table, we made our own separate orders on our phone and then chatted as we waited for the food to arrive.

So far, so good.

And yet, to be perfectly honest, dear readers, after what felt like a great date with Shrek, I was already highly resistant to the idea of this one going anywhere. Which, I realise now, was very unfair to Spring. Maybe if I had given him more of a chance at the start? Or been more open? 

Alas, I was already pinning my hopes on Shrek. 

Despite starting at a disadvantage, Spring was still able to draw me into a proper conversation. At least for a while. We chatted about his recent trip overseas and the flaws of the London Underground. We even talked about how odd it was that they had commercialised their transit system. There was also some chatter about hobbies and interests. As well as our approaches to finding love on the dating app.

Spring was very adamant about the fact that he only had the capacity to chat with one person at a time. Whereas I’d opened up my options by playing the field a little by chatting to multiple people and then comparing each individual I did meet (either in real life or online)  to see what it was that I wanted out of a relationship and whether or not we might be compatible. After all, there was no guarantee of anything in life and it seemed foolish to waste time and energy by investing into the wrong person. Especially if I wasn’t very interested in them as a life partner. Something it seems Spring knew about intimately for, shortly afterwards, he told me that he had dated two women previously. Both relationships had lasted about a year before he broke up with them. Why? Because he hadn’t grown feelings for them and felt that they weren’t as invested in his interests as he was. This was, also, despite them trying to learn more about his hobbies and actively trying to make the relationship work.

Never once, during our chat, did he ever mention if he bothered to learn what his previous girlfriends liked. Or being invested in their hobbies or interests. Initially, during the date, I thought little of this fact, and was actually trying to advise him that many of my married friends didn’t always share the exact same passion for every little thing. Nor were they joined at the hip. For that kind of codependency and devotion was nigh impossible. I told him that as long as the couple share a certain outlook on life and have similar values, there is a strong chance that love can eventuate. Spring didn’t seem convinced and I walked away from the date knowing that I certainly didn’t feel like I was up to ‘loving’ everything that he did and eschewing my own likes.

Of course, by the time I had given it some thought and was telling my work colleagues about the sordid details of my date the next day, I began to realise how problematic Spring’s wants in a relationship were. And yet, pressured after having a belly full of pasta, I’d agreed to a second date! Curse my luck!

After all, when it comes to most fandoms, I skirt across the surface. In all honesty, it’s best to describe me as a jack of all interests and master of none. And perhaps that’s a good thing. Because I certainly don’t want my personality to just be defined by a single label: weeb, gamer, writer, reader, etc. I indulge in a lot of different shows, exposing myself to a variety of genres. I like dabbling in different side projects when I have time and mixing it up on the odd occasion (or as my routine allows). True, I have a few favourites but I like to keep my mind open to new things.

Spring, on the other hand, seemed very focused and intense on what he liked. The feeling I got was that he wasn’t one that would expand much of his horizons. And so, what he wanted from a relationship was basically a social media echo chamber. His future partner had to share the same interests. No doubt, they also had the share the same ships. The same opinions. And literally be a female clone of him.

That, to me, was not something that I wanted to be a part of. It spoke of a very self-centred viewpoint. Relationships, based on the things I’ve read and witnessed are about compromise and open communication.

And, maybe it’s an idealistic viewpoint, but I don’t want to feel beholden to someone else’s view. I am independent. i am woman. And to quote Katy Perry once again: Hear me roar!

There are multiple facets to who I am. Watch as I troll my friends about male representing nipples and in the next second, see me flop on the couch, controller in hand as I game. I am unapologetic in what I like and I am blunt in my assessments of others. And yet, if we are good friends, though I might tease and talk shit to get a laugh, I like to think that I’m also a good listener. A shoulder to cry on when the going gets tough. And also readily available to provide acts of service to those in need without thought of reward or recompense.

Fortunately for you, dear readers, I was unable to close the chapter on Spring at the end of the first meetup. And so, of course, there’s a part two to this tale. I hope you enjoy my poor decision-making skills!

Ice, Ice Baby

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Dear readers, after years of not going anywhere for fear of catching COVID and only doing the most sedentary of activities with friends, I was seized by the sudden and inexplicable, although still very understandable, impetus to go ice-skating. Who wouldn’t? In fact, I even organised a Facebook event for my friends where we would go out into the wilds of a shopping centre and do activities that were more akin to what we did in our early 20s or fresh out of university.

To Shrek, I sent what he most probably presumed was an odd message. Especially since it was a little out of the blue. “Can you ice skate?”

He replied shortly later with an affirmation, followed by a questioning why. And so, taking the plunge, I went forward with my plan to enjoy some time of the ice and not some other tiresome second date activity. 

To his merit, Shrek agreed. And, over the course of a few days, the date was planned for an outing to Macquarie Shopping Centre – the only shopping centre in Sydney that also harbours an ice rink within its walls.

We arrived fairly early at the rink. Yet, although Shrek advised he’d arrived minutes earlier than I did, when I ventured to the entrance, he was nowhere to be seen. Wondering if he had already entered, I ducked inside before he messaged me his location and I greeted him outside in that awkward fashion most people do when they’re still testing the waters. With that out of the way, we went in, bought our tickets and slipped on our skates before stepping out onto the ice. 

Almost immediately, it was clear that there was a vast gulf in skill levels between us. Despite not having skated in three years, a few minutes on the ice had me showing off by skating backwards. Shrek, on the other hand, stacked it. Twice.

But he simply got back up again. Like a trooper. And kept skating. Even though he was flat-footed AND he had just done legs the day before at the gym.

It wasn’t long, however, before he was limping on the ice. Well, limping isn’t quite the right word because ice skating is all about gliding on thin blades attached to the plastic boot that’s been strapped to your foot. But it was clear that he couldn’t keep at it. Not for long, anyways. And so, Shrek retreated to the sidelines to nurse his cramp and watch as I carved up the ice (to a degree) on my lonesome. Although, I did stop many a time at the wall to keep him engaged so he didn’t feel too left out.

Was it a trial by fire like he said? Perhaps. But it should be noted down in the record that that hadn’t been my intention. I had been fuelled by fleeting scenes of couples holding hands as they circled the rink over and over and over again. It was supposed to be, for lack of another word, romantic.

After I had exhausted myself on the ice, we enjoyed lunch at one of the many restaurants in the centre and even had some dessert too. Why? Well, we’re adults and if we want to enjoy ourselves, who’s to stop us? 

No one! That’s who?

Hey! What are you doing? Why are you taking away my brownie? No! You can’t stop me from eating something unhealthy, mother! I’m not a child anymore! I’m a GROWN-UP. And I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. 

Yes, yes, fine, I’ll start dieting again. But please, please, please just let me have this cheat day. Okay? Please?

Ah, right, where was I? The date.

Just like our first date, we chatted about the inane topics – keeping it light. Shrek told me more about his sister and a little bit of his faith. We even geeked out a little about European and Middle-Eastern architecture and the influences across cultures. It was the first time that I’d found myself smiling so openly during one of these ‘dates.’

Shrek was just easy to talk to and it didn’t feel like there were too many conditions. I even started to think that even if this attempt at a romantic entanglement didn’t shake out, we might still end up as good friends. And in this day and age, when friendships are so few and far between, making a new one is all the more important.

When our stomachs were full, Shrek even took the lead to do some shopping as he wanted to get a basketball and shoot hoops with his father in a bonding activity. That small titbit of information warmed my heart as I remembered days of playing with my own father when I was younger.

So, down to the Kmart we went.

Along the way, we got distracted by a HobbyCo next to the Kmart on the ground floor and we ducked inside to take a gander. While there were boardgames and Gundams aplenty, what caught my eye was the chess set that was on display. As Shrek browsed, I took the opportunity to set up a few opening moves until he joined me and we played a round of chess.

To say that Shrek is an unorthodox player is a bit of an understatement. He surprised from almost the very first move and our game became a chase where I kept his king almost always in check before checkmating him on the H border.

Was he intimidated by my ruthless killer instinct on the chess field? Who knows.

Did he have fun? Well, you’d have to ask him.

Did I have fun? Why, yes. It’s always enticing when you can dominate your partner in almost all things with surprising flexes. Go for the jugular, I say! Let them know it! 

You are the one that wears the pants! Not them! 

And these skills don’t often up in general conversation. Especially when the right questions don’t get asked.

So, anyone up for some, you know, light bondage? I’ll grab the ropes and the whip. And as my good pet, you’ll sit there and take it. Won’t you?

Anyways, once the basketball was bought, I also took the opportunity to grab two screen protectors (one was merely for insurance) for my new Switch OLED as the one that I had bought earlier in preparation for the console had cracked when I attempted to push out the air the night before.

Honestly! So much for tempered glass! You were meant to hold my weight! Not crumble under the slightest pressure!

And so ended my second date with Shrek.

When compared to all my other dates, Shrek does indeed to be the top contender. He makes me laugh, seems engaged in conversation and isn’t afraid to be a bit vulnerable. When it comes to making decisions, he doesn’t appear if he minds if he takes the lead or allows me to do so.

Does that mean he’s the one for me? I can’t say for sure. I’m not someone that feels a sudden spark and in conversations with a few of my friends that have married has also indicated a sharp prevalence of this within our social group. Although some might argue that familiarity breeds contempt, in my situation, familiarity brings with it ‘inside’ jokes and an easy rapport that could weather any storm.

A strong foundation needs to be laid before a house can be built. The same could be said of relationships too. For what good is jumping in feet first when you don’t know how deep the pool is? I know I’m mixing a lot of metaphors here but this whole idea of pursuing a romantic connection is still a new experience to me.

Sure, I’ve been accused of crushing on individuals back in school, but the more I think on it, it has almost never been that way. I’ve had good friends and sometimes I have thought that they might be good companions to be with in the future, but I don’t think I’ve ever fallen head over hills in love with anyone. Not yet, anyways.

But the more pressing question, of course, is whether he seems me as a fit for him? Even now, I’m not entirely sure how he feels about me. What if he doesn’t like me? What if he only sees a mousy Asian woman and who has a tired and exhausting personality that matches her lazy outward appearance?

Still, relationships go both ways and open communication is key. Just because I like someone or if someone likes me doesn’t always mean it’s reciprocal. And if that’s the case, well, I suppose that’s that. The other person doesn’t owe you gratitude or love or romance. Nor should you expect it in turn. 

Does it hurt? Kind of. But the important thing is putting oneself out there and seeing what comes. At least, that’s the advice I’ve seen from many a television show, books and from people I know.

They can’t all be wrong. Can they? CAN THEY?!

The Lost Ticket Pickle

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Down in the bottom of the shopping centre, having enjoyed a day where I had demonstrated how terrible I was at bowling, I patted myself down again and again. The parking ticket. Where was it? I remembered putting it in the back pocket of my jeans. Where it ought to have been safely nestled until I needed it to exit the shopping complex. But the ticket, to my chagrin, stubbornly refused to appear.

We were trapped – Pickles and I. Unless, of course, I paid the penalty for a lost ticket.

Where, oh where, was the parking ticket?

I patted myself down again, hoping it would miraculously appear.

How had it come to this? Where had it all gone wrong?

The only way to solve this mystery, dear reader, is for me to take you back in time. To the beginning of this not-quite third date with Pickles.

Despite relegating our relationship to the friend zone, Pickles arranged for a ‘catch-up’ where he would cook a meal. Apparently, it was a thing he did with his friends. And now that it was clear a long term romance would not eventuate, perhaps he thought it best to tempt me over with a fresh home cooked meal. After a few back and forth exchanges, however, the home cooked meal was shelved as a tenuous ‘maybe’ because pulling friends last minute for a board game day became nigh impossible. Instead, like the grown-ups we are, we settled on going to the nearby shopping centre as it had a Time Zone and access to some bowling action.

The day dawned early for me. Though we had arranged to meet around 11, I needed to give my car a good wash. So, rather than head immediately to our rendezvous, I went to the local carwash in my suburb and paid through the nose for a nice clean car. It took longer than I anticipated to get the car clean because it was utterly filthy. Thankfully, Pickles was struggling to get out of bed and my tardiness was a boon in disguise.

After getting my car properly washed and cared for (after having parked it beneath trees for an entire year, and not because I wanted to impress a boy), I made my way over to a park outside his apartment. Pickles emerged soon after I’d arrived. He hopped into my red Honda (a very typical model and colour for most Asians) and we headed to the shopping centre.

Having just woken up, Pickles had not managed to enjoy a proper breakfast. So, rather than show off how terrible we both were at throwing heavy balls at ten pins at the end of a very narrow straight, we decided to get something to eat first. After much hewing and hawing, Pickles finally picked a schnitzel place.

Note to self: every single person that is ‘fine’ with eating anything generally translates to a person who is incredibly indecisive about food. And it also doesn’t always mean they’re fine with anything. For, as mentioned in a previous post, Pickles didn’t really eat pork – having been raised Jewish. Nor did he eat much in terms of seafood. And he didn’t much like avocado either.

Following the light brunch we enjoyed, we began the not-quite date in earnest. I needed to show off spectacularly bad bowling skills after all!

At the time, though, I thought all the hours I had poured into the Yakuza games would reward me with an excellent result on the board. After all, it was all about picking a direction, adjusting the spin and power of the throw, and bam! Strike! That could all be easily translated to real life…right?

Wrong!

The first two frames had every bowling ball tumbling down into the gutter. All ten pins remained standing – mocking me with their upright defiance.

I finally put a number on the board during my third frame. No strike, of course, but I was glad that I wouldn’t be guttering EVERY ball that I tossed down. And if I rubbed that a little in Pickles’s face, who’s to say?

Of course, I immediately paid for my hubris by missing the pins again in the next frame.

So went our single game.

Should I have capitulated and asked for rails? Or maybe used the child ramp for the ball?

Looking back, I do regret not taking advantage of what I could to show how completely awesome I am. After all, a victory is a victory, right? No matter how I got there.

Suffice it to say, after ten frames, Pickles had won the game by a mile. As for me, I suppose I was satisfied that I managed to put something on the scoreboard. Nothing to write home about, sure, but at least I didn’t gutter every single attempt. Hurrah for small victories!

With bowling in the rear view mirror, we turned our attention to exploring Timezone. Although it felt like arcades had seemingly vanished during the late 200s and early 2010s, recent years had seen a sudden resurgence. Impressively, there were also quite a few machines brought over from Japan with a strong focus on music and rhythm skill-based gameplay. Watching some of the people taking them on was enthralling. The way they would move around, hands dancing across the interface…

Finally, after dragging ourselves away from the mesmerising displays of skill, we tried our hand at a game of pool. Where I thoroughly thrashed Pickles despite playing at a handicap. I say ‘thoroughly’ but I’m also abysmal at pool due to my inability to calculate the perfect angles that is needed for trick shots and direct the cue ball where I want it to go.

Still, after flailing for a while, I managed to wrangle the upper hand ands cored a comfortable victory.

Then it was back to roaming Timezone for another distraction. Thankfully, there was Taiko no Tatsujin – arcade version – available for us to pour in the last remaining dollars we had put into the Timezone card. For $3, the two of us got one go each at a song. Pickles, of course, did Megalovania while I jammed out to the opening of Demon Slayer (which is a little known anime that no-one talks much about). 

After our ungodly display of talent at the taiko drums, we headed up to the Good Game situated at the top of the shopping centre. There, Pickles and I debated the very controversial topic of which one was better: Pathfinder 1st edition or Dungeons and Dragons 5e.

Clearly, I won that argument.

Once we had our fill of wandering through the board game store, we picked up some ice cream and soon found ourselves trapped in the carpark without a way out. The ticket, of course, had been lost somewhere between us having lunch and us returning to my car.

Where, oh where, had it gone?

Being the chivalrous lad that he was, Pickles offered to grab a ticket from the entrance, but I knew that the lost ticket was my cross to bear. After all, it had been my responsibility to look after it. That it had fallen from my pocket – well, you could see why I felt guilty.

Perhaps the lost ticket was a reflection of where our non-existent relationship would end. Certainly, during this third date/ catch-up, it felt better that we remain as friends rather than delve into anything further. The vibe I got during this encounter was that our personalities kind of clashed. Or maybe was just a bit too similar for it to lead anywhere good. 

Probably the high level of neuroticism all around.

When I stopped by his apartment for some Beat Saber and to test out the game he had made for a uni assignment, it only cemented that anything further between us would be…awkward. He liked to throw in innuendos and I would attempt to blithely ignore them…

Innuendos, by the way, dear reader, are not the way to my heart. And throwing out the odd endearment won’t move me much either.

Still, if there was one thing that could be said of the catch-up with Pickles, it was that it helped me figure out where he and I stood.

Five feet apart. At least.

The Ugly Duckling

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

I met bachelor number 4 at Broadway shopping centre at a small cafe. After getting dropped off by my mother at the train station later than I’d hoped, I was a few minutes late rocking up to the venue. That didn’t stop Prep Boy from sitting down and ordering a coffee and some banana bread for a late breakfast as he waited. A man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t going to allow propriety to get in his way. At least, that’s the assumption I got as he tried to hug me as if we were old friends when I finally arrived.

I quickly disabused him of that notion. The old friends bit. As I’ve mentioned before, I”m not a hugger. Physical touch is basically anathema to my very being. Keeping people at arm’s length means they are less likely to hurt me.

On that note, maybe I really ought to pick up Aikido or other forms of martial arts as a form of self-defence. I mean, yes, I did learn a bit of karate when I was younger but I’d dropped it when I was studying for the selective high school exams.

So, like the awkward Asians that we were (well, more me than him), I settled for a handshake. The best of both worlds, and something that was lacking during the heyday of COVID-19. Although, now that I think on it, I kind of miss doing friendly elbow bumps. So, if you want to boop funny bones, let me know!

After I’d ordered my own drink, hot chocolate (always!), we got to talking.

I learned he had a sister and a number of brothers, that he attended a fancy private school in his youth and that he had just enjoyed a work Halloween event where he went dressed as one of the faceless guards of Squid Game. Except, he didn’t have the proper PlayStation mask so, instead, he opted for one fashioned in the like of a kitsune.

And just like that, he dominated most of the conversation. Not that I minded, dear reader. It allowed me to sit back and listen and learn (and possibly judge). On the downside, he did try to explain where Waverley was (to which I replied most sarcastically) and seemed unsure if I knew the Overwatch characters. Mate, I might not have played the game because it’s an online team shooter but I’d have to be living under a rock not to who who Mercy, D.Va and the rest of all your mains were. 

After all, I live and breathe video game popular culture.

To my detriment.

But as they say: Heroes never die!

Besides, if I didn’t know something, I’d probably ask for clarification or just Google. I mean, I had a friend that never provided context to their wild ramblings. And if I could deduce what they were talking about from scraps of information, I’m sure I wouldn’t be struggling to understand your nostalgia for the ‘good ol’ uni days of 2016.’

That, perhaps more than anything else was an indication that a relationship between the two of us wouldn’t work.

Maybe I’m too cynical and jaded, but the sense I got was that Prep Boy wasn’t all that mature and that it would be an ongoing issue with regards to compatibility. In his desire to impress, he only proved to be somewhat belittling and condescending with his assumptions. In the words of Shania Twain: that don’t impress me much.

The other issue that I could not get past, and which I regaled to all my friends when pestered about my love life, were his teeth. Yellow and covered with plaque, the top row so crooked that it would scare even the hardiest criminals to get back on the straight and narrow.

Can you imagine kissing a mouth like that? No, thank you! 

Worse, he was a former Prep Boy. Private school born and bred, mingling with the rich elites of east coast Sydney. You would think someone with those means would have taken more care of his appearance. Or, at the very least, his dental health.

Maybe I was too quick to judge. But my overall experience conversing with Prep Boy was unfavourable at best. It was the first time after downloading Hinge that I knew in my bones that this person was not for me. There would be no humouring them with a second date.

Almost immediately after we had left the small cafe, as he was catching up with his family afterwards at 12 in Burwood, I hid our chat and there’s been no contact since!

Certainly, our text exchanges hadn’t been the most scintillating of conversations.

So, progress? Or have I gone two steps back?

I don’t know. Relationships are hard! And yes, I know it’s my fault for not trying to seek a partner in my younger years but I wasn’t interested.

Heck, even now, I don’t know how interested I am in finding a life companion beyond a body pillow.

But at least I’m trying?

For years, I’ve lived inured in my own fantasy worlds, never much venturing past my front door because I saw little need to. However, I’m learning, as I did back in 2016, that putting oneself out of one’s comfort zone can be truly eye-opening in learning who I am and what I want from life.

It’s easy to live a life without change but you don’t grow from those experiences. And perhaps, after spending a year somewhat working on myself, I can spread my wings and reveal to the world the swan that I actually am.

Still, is it weird that during this trek out to the city, I was more excited about learning that Fortress was coming to Sydney rather than the meet-up itself?

Anyways, Happy New Year! Let’s hope 2023 will be as interesting as year as 2022 – at least on  a personal scale. I don’t think I like all the shit that’s been happening around the world and I honestly fear where it might be heading to next.

And yet, despite all the misery and the bleakness of an unknown future, here I am just trying to find some love.

Two Veterans and a Nurse…

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Not knowing if one date was enough to get the proper feel of a person, I organised a second date with Pickles. At that particular moment, all the way back in October, I wasn’t sure who to pick between him and Shrek. After all, our first meet-ups were similar but also quite different. I’d learned a lot more about Pickles’s life and was enjoying our chats on Messenger (after I’d successfully stalked him on the socials after receiving a business card for his podcast. It does beggar the question that maybe being a private detective would be the perfect job for me?), whereas Shrek was easier to talk to because of the fact that we both grew up in ethnic families that had specific views on our marital status.

That, and the fact that I wanted to watch a movie and had some time off work. The film I wanted to see, however, didn’t have any sessions after 5PM. And honestly, See How They Run would have probably been much more humorous than what Amsterdam turned out to be (despite all the big names in it).

But perhaps I ought to have taken the night to watch See How They Run. Alas, the universal perception that watching a film by your lonesome in a cinema is cringe won through. On the other hand, Saoirse Ronan was in it.

Dilemmas, dilemmas.

Still, those are regrets that I ought to unpack another time. For now, I shall eagerly look forward to Glass Onion. From a few comments I’ve seen online, it’s apparently even better than Knives Out. And that was a film that caught me by surprise. Besides, who doesn’t love Daniel Craig’s over the top southern accent?

Back to the date at hand!

A bit like the first time I met Pickles, we convened outside his place of work in the city. From there, and emboldened at my initial excellent choice for food, I directed us towards some delicious sushi – with a brief stopover at a local JB Hi-Fi to pick up A Plague Tale: Requiem! Nigiri, hand rolls, gunkan and even side dishes! All for the low, low price of $4.20.

Except, to my dismay, he didn’t much like avocado! Raised Jewish, he also wasn’t much into shellfish like prawns. Nor did he like scallops!

He didn’t even touch the nigiri! And the tuna he had was always cooked. No raw fish! The very essence of sushi to some!

I had failed.

At the very least, that was how I felt as we headed towards the cinema, the tickets for Amsterdam nestled in my leather Mickey Mouse wallet after I’d purchased it beforehand. Once there, PIckles bought a medium-sized popcorn. An ample snack for a growing man.

I, on the other hand, was never much of a snacker. And rightly told him so before we found our seats and prepared ourselves for the wilm.

What to say about Amsterdam?

For one, there were a lot of big-name celebrities. From Anya Taylor-Joy to Christian Bale to Margo Robbie to Rami Malek to Robert de Niro. Taylor Swift even made a cameo!

So, you would think with such a diverse cast of actors, it would be much more entertaining than it was. After all, the trailers sold it as a comedy whoddunnit mystery. But, in all honesty, the comedic stylings were too far and few between. Or just a bit too much on the subtle side. There were a few chuckles here and there but nothing that had me guffawing. Except maybe how dramatic Taylor Swift’s death was when she got pushed in front of a car.

Rather, Amsterdam was a fictional interpretation of real events. And honestly, it was interesting to see how the Western world had to grapple with the growing threat of fascism back in the early 1930s.

In many ways, I also felt like I had failed in choosing the event as well. The movie wasn’t as funny as I had hoped.

In any case, after the movie was over, there was hardly any time to debrief – a most definite thing that ought to have happened – as my train was in five minutes and if I didn’t catch it, I would have also had to wait another thirty minutes. So, with a hasty goodbye, my time with Pickles came to a close.

On the ride home, though, we managed to exchange a flurry of messages. Alas, it was not to be.

Our brief acquaintanceship would remain as it was, never to blossom in to a full-fledged romance. Why, you ask, dear reader?

Well, despite my miscalculations on food and possibly the movie, Pickles was also thinking of heading overseas. As an individual that places a lot of weight on physical touch (according to him), he would be desolate by the separation. As for me, physical touch probably sits near the bottom of my love languages. I’ve never been comfortable with people casually touching me in any intimate manner, like my lower back or warmly embracing me. And you can completely forget the air kisses. Eugh!

There were just too many things that weren’t clicking and he was also looking for something short-term.

Alas, it seemed that despite a strong initial showing, our budding relationship was to be relegated to the dreaded friend zone (not that I mind. It just makes these things easier for me. And is probably less scary in the long run. Basically, think of me like Anzu from Romantic Killer. After all, it’s a particularly apt comparison. Just, you know, without the demon Riri conjuring up terrible situations to put me in). 

So, what shall befall poor Kyndaris’s love life next? Will there be another contender that can tug at my heart strings?

Next time on Dating 2.0, looking forward to terrible teeth and an attempt at a ‘friendly catch-up!’

Hey There, You’re an All Star

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Contestant number three followed a week after number two. His name, or as how he shall be referred to in these blogs will be Shrek. Why? Because during our Hinge chats, he subtly slid in the lyrics of one of the most one hit wonders of all time. And because, afterwards, when I relayed my experience to my friends, I told them that he ‘Smash-Mouthed’ me. And no, dear readers, I know where your garbage brain has gone, but get it out of the gutter!

Our meet-up was a simple affair at a local shopping centre in a suburb of Sydney. More specifically, it was in the north-west corner of the greater Sydney region. No, not Richmond with all the flooding. A bit more north and a little less west.

Still confused? Excellent. I wasn’t going to specify exactly where it was in case there are Sydneysiders that read my blog and somehow manage to track me down.

To be fair, it was probably the most tamest of encounters: out in public and in broad daylight. Though I tried to recruit my friends to spy on us, they all decided to head elsewhere.

The cowards.

Instead, I had a work colleague serving as my eyes and ears during the meet-up. Celebrating his birthday, he was also in the area with his girlfriend to enjoy a subpar lunch at Crinitis.

And even though it’s been a few weeks since (of writing at least), I’m not sure if I’m thankful for his presence or if I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

The way he winked at me behind Shrek…

The stalker photo of us shopping…

You know what? I’ve changed my mind. Maybe murder truly is the answer.

For, at this rate, my stainless reputation at work will be ruined! How will I continue to be a Goddess among mortals when they have glimpsed behind the curtain and seen the truth of who I am?

It shall not stand!

But back to the date on hand.

Despite the fact that I had received a phone call from a friend’s mother asking if said friend was in my car (they weren’t) and that I was desperately trying to organise a way for their mother to get in touch so that they could pass off the car keys (firing off messages left, right and centre after parking), I arrived earlier than Shrek.

He, like many that frequent this shopping centre, was struggling to find parking. And instead of parking close by, he had parked all the way on the other side of the shopping complex. Initially, reading what he had messaged me, I had assumed he had found a spot in the mall opposite our immediate meeting venue. And so, I stationed myself near the pedestrian crossing, expecting him to appear.

While I did not encounter Shrek (as he had parked not where I had expected and had subsequently approached through the shopping centre and was therefore behind me), I did bump into my work colleague and wished him a ‘happy birthday’ before greeting his girlfriend.

After advising them of what the next hour or so would entail, I returned to my waiting spot, eyes on my phone for any indication from Shrek whether or not they had arrived. After getting an idea of what he was wearing and having a look around the plaza, I spotted him near the entrance and walked on over to greet him. Introductions made and with our stomachs growling, we headed to the closest restaurant: Korean fried chicken. Or, as I like to refer to it, my favourite type of KFC.

Over lunch, we talked about family, our interests and what we else we had planned over the weekend. You know, the riveting type of conversations you usually have when you meet a person in the flesh for the first time. And even though it’s not a job interview, you’re still desperately trying to impress. Just a little. So, maybe it was a little stilted as we were trying to find safe topics to navigate through.

No longer was it as easy to converse as it was through chat.

Although, to be honest, many of my friends do find me much more loquacious via written communication than verbal. But! On the plus side, my interactions in the work place and my desire to know everything about someone else’s life has made me a bit more adept at verbal wordplay! Huzzah!

In the end, I confirmed that Shrek had a sister (there was picture of him and her on his dating profile – one in which he hadn’t scrubbed out her face), that he was lactose intolerant (to a degree) and that much of his extended family were located overseas in the UK and the US of A.

Our chat was nice and it seemed like Shrek was the type of person to listen, if apologise for my life situation a bit too much. Certain parts of it can suck. But sometimes it’s also the attitude you bring to those circumstances – as some might say. I’m not all about the self-pity party, even if I do like to complain about the direction my life has gone on the rare occasion. Certainly, it’s not the perfect life that I wish it to be, but when has life ever gone so swimmingly for the normal person?

That aside, we also had an enjoyable chat after lunch as we did some shopping. We stopped at Good Games, where I picked up another board game.

The meet-up was somewhat ruined by the fact that Shrek feared I was not familiar with where the shop was located and he tried to point me towards its. Despite the fact that I’d frequented this shopping centre for goodness knows how many times in the past several years.

It was kind of cute, even as I recalled the moment one of my previous work colleagues also tried to explain the suburb of Mays Hill because most others hadn’t heard of it. Mate, I used to live around that area throughout most of my childhood. I know where it is.

In fact, I know a lot of things. But let’s not go there.

The spectrum of INTJ, INFJ and ISFJ are showing.

Once we had surveyed all that there was on offer, even stopping by the Lego store, I walked Shrek back towards his car. Well, not his car exactly – but to the carpark before making my trek back through the shopping centre to where I had parked my car to while away the hours at a friend’s place before heading over for a conjoined house-warming and birthday celebration for a close friend.

Did the first meet-up go well? My work colleague seems to think so. After all, if things hadn’t, we probably wouldn’t have gone shopping together.

So, how well does Shrek stack up to the other people I’ve met through the dating app? And who should I present my rose to in this episode of Kyndaris: The Bachelorette?

From what I can see, a second date would be in order. Just to get a better feel of their social circle and of any other shared interests we might have. Certainly, he seems the type to be supportive and understanding, while also having his own things that he loves and cares dearly about – a trait that I find good because I think I’d also prefer my own time to do my own things.

But…well…it’s just so hard to make a call right now.

At this stage, I have to say that Pickles and Shrek are in the lead.

Will I have meet-ups with anyone else? Who knows. It’s just so hard to determine what makes a good fit and what might eventuate into something more.

Am I scared about commitment at this stage?

Hell yes! It’s only been the first time I’ve met them. Love isn’t like how it is in Disney movies (and while I enjoy them, I do not endorse falling in love with the first person you meet). For me, I think it comes with time and familiarity and getting to know a person and wanting the same things out of life.

It’s not about the lust or the love. 

It’s about who I can live a life together with.