Dating with a BOX #4: Modern Dating is a Bin Fire.

Stay with me. I promise there is a more positive message to come.

Modern Dating - Dat You?

[Photo cred: @bins_northeast,the premier page for North-eastern bin content. How great.]


PROFILE[S].

Who: Various Adult Males, all in their mid to late 30’s who should maybe know better but then again – who I am to speak.

Additional Information:

· None because I am literally speechless.

· Kidding. I've never been speechless because I am a sassy queen [Please refer below for full tirade]


Don't light me a Bin Fire and tell me it's Ecoya Kakadu Plum.

When I started to reflect on the recent events in my saucy dating diary in preparation to write this post….I thought to myself, what helpful reflective knowledge nuggets can I provide?


What first came to mind was MODERN DATING IS A BIN FIRE and here’s a few tid bits that are paramount to me holding up a scented candle next to it and telling you if you try hard enough, you may be able to smell the fucking Kakadu plum notes wafting up your left nostril. Cynicism is under control, obviously, thanks for asking.


Ooooh yes my, my since my last cycle of “Guys, I’m off the apps, I'm losing the will to live” through to the activities following the subsequent “Guys, I’m back on the apps [I need some external validation]” on a lonely Sunday night approximately .5 to1 month later, the sheer underwhelm of my experiences saw me descend into the unresourceful state that is cynicism and extreme negativity – I acknowledge upfront although I have a fresh outlook you will potentially detect the subtle undertones of this coming through [as per above reference to ignited wheelie trash] because I am but an imperfect human.


Not the Good Kind of Hard.

Yes, Dating with a Box [ie a vagina, in case it’s your first time here] has been HARD of late. And not that delightful “Ooooh, fun, what’s that in my back?” while you’re spooning in the morning kind of hard, more the nasty “oh this hurts my soul” kind of hard. The kind that sees me from time to time, lose my belief, my positivity and makes it difficult to shake off each experience and try again, while seeking to give each and every human the clean slate they probably deserve.


If you’re out there dating, I know you have just immediately related to me – SO, Welcome.


Now don’t worry, I will in the end arm you with some cracker perspectives that are actually helpful and not “modern dating is like a bin fire” which may leave you crying hopeless tears into your spicy marg … that you’re drinking at home [because you too currently think dating is a bin fire]… even though *everyone* on Hinge knows the best spot in town to buy them. Yeah yeah yeah, come back and see me when you're CONTROVERSIAL AS FUCK putting pineapple on your pizza or something else equally thrilling.


The irony of this blog post is, I am going to share my experiences with you and then tell you not to focus on them – because the first key message is LOOK PAST THE BIN FIRE. But if we didn’t discuss the burning rubbish upfront, this would be a wildly unamusing read.


The list is long. Fill up the 'big glass'.

This week’s Dating Diary will be in list form, due to sheer volume. Pour a glass of chardonnay [don’t be a pussy, use the ‘big glasses’] and leave the cork out to allow for speedy refills. It's definitely a "If you don’t laugh you’ll cry" type read, so probably prepare to laugh because I can't hold the weight of anyone's tears right now.


As always, names have been changed to other bloke names protect the innocent. So Joseph, 38 the Solution Architect and AGSM Graduate 2024[?] from Bellevue Hill, NSW you are shit outta luck. Graduate 2024??? Righto I am Queen Elizabeth 2025, call me Lizzy and bring in my Corgis. Listing future potential qualifications is not a thing Joseph, unless you're Trump running for the 2024 US Presidency because shit we all need a big heads up on that ass-hat coming down the pipeline.


Contenders Q3 2022.

[Let me preface this with saying, my dating profile states I am looking for a relationship and that I would like to experience genuine connection and being taken out on real dates like the goddamn lady I am. Assume a normal amount of pre-conversation has occurred prior to the listed events.]


[1] Rob

After asking him if he’s free later in the week to meet, he asks me what I am doing right now…because he likes to be spontaneous. “We could even just meet at Macca’s in the carpark for 10 minutes to get to know each other” he says, …”IF I WOULD LIKE?”. Rob….take me out to the back paddock, put a bullet in me, shove me into an oven at 200 degrees for 2 hours with a herbed lemon up my rear end, then put a fork in me … BECAUSE I AM DONE.


[2] Luke

Tried to put his finger, let’s just say “vagina adjacent” during what I perceived to be a fairly innocent couch pash the first time I met him. Upon fair protest, asked me “Why not, didn’t I trust him?!”. I mean, does building up-the-butt trust run on a comparatively condensed scale to normal trust??? Is up-the-butt trust a 5-hour conversation and a bottle of Shiraz? I must have missed the memo, I am a geriatric millennial after all.


[3] Kevin

Got as far as arranging a drinks date, never responded with a final confirmation after I asked him what night might work. Responds 3 days later during prime booty-call time [10-11pm]... “What you up to?”. He then proceed to unsend it after I read and don’t reply AS IF I COULD UNSEE IT.


[4] John

After far too much chat about how often I go to the gym and what I do there [SQUATS JOHN, ALWAYS SQUATS]...John suggests at 9pm that for our FIRST meeting, he could sneak into where I was staying at my brother’s house that very night THROUGH THE WINDOW to watch a movie with me IN MY BED with a bottle of wine, because wouldn’t it be fun to act like teenagers. He noted he would, OUT OF RESPECT, wait until after my brother, his partner and my infant nephew were sleeping.

In case you missed that…it was OUT OF RESPECT FOR MY BROTHER. [Hello Jim, stay calm pls - ask your better half to get you a quick glass of Tawny Port to keep your rage at bay]


[Footnote: Aforementioned men lived in Adelaide. There is sure.as.shit something in the drinking water that the PuraTap isn’t eliminating, aside from the rancid taste]


[5] Joseph

Proves himself as a front runner early on after demonstrating superior communication skills. I often wonder HOW THINGS GO SO WRONG. Extremely efficient at making date plans (which really gets a bit of humidity happening “down south”. Men take note: never underestimate how hot this is, it is the real MVP). A day prior to date, asks for a raincheck as his brother *allegedly* had a baby. After reassuring a plethora of sceptics in my life that this a completely legitimate raincheck – HE UNMATCHES ME. A fake premature birth seems extreme, an honest text message seems more appropriate. Well, lucky you were around to celebrate something coming out of a vagina because with behaviour like that you probably won't be going into one anytime soon.


[6] Sam

Oh Sam, Sam, Sam. The first 7 minutes of our date included mind-blowing, cutting edge gynacaelogical facts such as: “You do know, if you want to have kids you should decide soon because your eggs start losing their quality after you turn 35”…. As if I, THE OWNER OF A PAIR OF OVARIES AS A 37 YEAR OLD SINGLE WOMAN WOULD NOT BE AWARE OF THIS.


This was closely followed by the suggestion that maybe my quirky need to google the endings of scary Netflix shows [yes I do this hahah not sorry] is why I am “bad at relationships”, because I unable to handle uncertainty. SHOTS FIRED. Sorry Sean, if I am not 100% down with the emotional sensation of wondering if I am going to crap my pants at some paranormal being jumping out of a wardrobe with a knife, leaving me to flee into a dark forest trying to save my family. I have had many an interesting relationship experience but none that allow me to draw a direct comparison that works with your reference. This is neither here nor there as I'd rather choke myself with my own ageing fallopian tubes than continue this date.


Finding a Diamond in the Dumpster Inferno.

I originally had Lawrence as a dot point but I felt, as a diamond shining through the dumpster inferno - that he shouldn’t relegated to sharing a list with metaphorical bin fire inspo.


We met while I was mid hot-lap in the Beach Road Hotel [Oh yes, IRL kids]. Now he is not the kind of man I would typically go for, but I’m fairly intuitive and I feel energy, I could tell he was a genuine human. In fact, I was extra proud about my decision to proceed with the meeting after my internal pep talk to myself, that this was the kind of man we needed in our lives, not 26 y.o Bondi FuckBois with mullets [there was one lurking at the time, the saucy part of my brain who never does anything at all that is in my best interests, may or may not have winked at him and he commenced an approach...].


L was a lovely man, with a luscious beard, kind blue eyes and a calm relaxing energy. After sitting outside on a bench and chatting at length [me apparently sharing more Anchorman quotes than is socially acceptable in quick succession] He advised me he was moving to London in 9 days. I cursed the universe for this one. My staunch commitment to watching romantic comedies as my lone genre and the hopeless romantic in me OBVIOUSLY saw the next steps as: keeping in touch everyday, saying cute things with glasses of wine in video calls before declaring shortly after that the time apart was killing us so then I move to London so I could live happily ever after stroking his beard and eating snacks in bed after vigorous love-making….No????


Apparently not everyone sees life this way and timing and realism carry a greater weight with people that aren’t me and watch less romantic comedies. OBVIOUSLY Annoying. Ugh.


[EDIT: I have since been reprimanded by the man behind this post for omitting the sauciest part of this story, being our 10am "innocent coffee" date that turned into an experience of morning sexual fireworks after I (in his opinion) "jumped his bones". I will go as far as admitting I may have been overwhelmed by the urges that result from my heart living in my vagina, but truth be told...I think we are equal hornbags, cut from the same hornbag cloth. Nothing like a phenomenal naked experience to make an already frustrating situation, more frustrating.]

[Love, Actually doesn't always work this way for everyone apparently and I for one am appalled]


Look Past the Bin Fire aka Shift Your Focus

[See and Believe in the Existence of GOOD, AVAILABLE Men]

Now of course as I have noted, for comedic value I tell you the best of the worst because …LOLs. But how does one actually go about ensuring you don't lose all hope [and the will to live] rolling the dating dice.


Experiences that are so deeply out of alignment with our values, what we are looking for or disappointing experiences often tend to hold more weight in our memories because of the “WTF” factor. However, if you continue to focus on them, they sit at the forefront of your consciousness and become your filter for what you are likely to see and experience more prominently – eventually as you see this more and more, the belief that there aren’t any good, available men is formed which gives rise to frustration, cynicism or feeling negative or without hope.


It just isn’t true. The truth is if you consciously draw your awareness to it, you will likely find that for each shocking experience – there probably has been a good man, a kind man, a respectful man, a man who wanted a relationship, a man who did think you were amazing [and wasn’t moving to London] but maybe for whatever reason you decided a part of the equation was missing for you. Feed the belief that you want to have: draw on all these positive examples of where what you are looking for shows up, so that you see that … instead of soul-sucking bin fires. And what you focus on, you attract.


And this is not to say you can't feel the emotions that come with this adventure. You are allowed to feel all those things, be disappointed, frustrated and my personal fave [and pinnacle] ...exasperated. But allow them to pass through you and not get stuck in them, make a conscious decision about how you want to feel and take the steps to adjust how you are viewing your experiences.


The Simplicity of the Binary Option.


I think one of the hardest things I experience [and I am sure many of you also do] when it comes to finding love/relationship, is to hold belief that everything is going to work out, that everything will line up, when I legitimately don’t have very much evidence of that happening - having been single now since 1209BC.


Maybe you are where I am, where you can [using mind powers referenced in the previous paragraph] find evidence of good available men, evidence of being attracted to someone, evidence of someone being attracted back, evidence of having wants, needs and values align with another person....which does massively contribute to being able to maintain a positive outlook along the journey.


BUT, I fully acknowledge however, there is another piece to that - being where all the pieces come together [and stay together] and this I legitimately do not [and you many not] have much evidence for, to help shape a positive story regarding the end game. You know, the bit where you have all those things AND they don't move to London.


[SIDE THOUGHT: Maybe all is not lost and my upcoming 2025 graduation into being the Queen of England will revive this lost connection once again.... Lord knows I can't walk all those Corgis on my own.]


So what does one do about this, in an effort to faciliate patience, hope and positivity? This one isn't terribly deep TBH but that's why I like it. I read a book by Ant Middleton [you may have seen him on Celebrity SAS Australia] but he has served 13 years in the UK Military / Elite Forces type thing and has written several books about resilience, mindset and overcoming adversity. The book is called Zero Negativity and in it he talks about the simplicity and power to be found in making possible outcomes binary. EG You can choose to be positive and if you're not doing that, then the other choice is to be negative. What's your preference? Because it is and always be a choice.


In this case: having the belief it's going to work out, is going to give you a happier life than believing that it's not. Don't get me wrong I falter from time to time, as may you - but focus your inner dialogue or journalling on enforcing this belief [nothing wrong with faking it here until you make it!]. This gives you also the added benefit of maintaining your thoughts and your focus on what you want, to keep it in your realm of attraction.


In Summation.

You've got this. You're out there in the clusterfuck of the world wide web or sometimes even the real world, trying to make love work - which is already damn phenomenal.


You may not always have a hose handy to douse the bin fire [innuendo is always on purpose] so it may feel like you're suffering 3rd degree burns to all your extremities - but you ALWAYS have control over your thoughts and a choice about what you want to see in people and in your world and what you want to believe, to make the journey a little less pain and a little more gain.


IMG_0328.HEIC.heic

Thanks for checking out The Flog...

I'm the 'Boxy' behind the Katboxy. On the weekends you can find me drinking margys, dishing out sass, doing Pilates/Pie&Lattes & making bulk submissions to "Overheard on Bumble". 

I am a trained NLP Coach, I nerd it up working in IT & as a single gal, I curiously navigate the process that is dating our peen-wielding members of society.

What gets my nipples hard? Swearing like a pirate-hooker while helping people understand how their sub-conscious programming is creating how they experience life and how they can seek a new perspective.

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