Sydney Life

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a young single woman in Sydney must be in want of a beau...or at least, this is what her friends and relatives think...

What is it about me that makes my friends think I want to be set up?

Could it be my constant glee at not having to shave my legs every second day? Could it be the selfish, soulless joy I feel when I watch my be-coupled friends fight over who is going to drive home? Could it be my phone calls at 4am, describing the minutiae of my fun-filled evening? Or perhaps it is something about my lists (yes, plural) of crushes that seem to go on forever (both the lists and the crushes)...

Whatever the case, my friends seem intent on setting me up with any man who stumbles across their own star-crossed paths. Miss J, for instance, wants to set me up with a boy we went to high school with. Apparently, in J's own words, this boy is now "...really nice, Lauren...and clever, and good-looking. If you could see him now...do you want to see him now? Right now? Cos I could arrange it! I could!"

J didn't seem to mind that:
a) this boy (henceforth named Mr T) and I hardly spoke at high school
b) I refused to speak to Mr T in high school because he once made a comment about the disheveled state of my hair
c) I thought Mr T left high school in Year 10, as I have no recollection of seeing him, talking to him or having any kind of encounter with him in the remaining two years. (Keep in mind, I went to a very small school...)

She continued regardless, with the same kind of zeal one might expect from a Hillsong minister on a Sunday morning, or Gretel Killeen on a Sunday night.

One day, Mr T emailed me. Sample quote: "Hey Loz (I hope it's ok to call you Loz...don't want to appear too forward. Although, if that's your thing, I can be as forward as you like!! Lol. But really.)"

Or: "Since I'm calling you Loz, you can shorten my name too. Mr Big??"

Uh-huh.

And then: "You see, Lauren, I'm a Cancer, and as a Cancer, I'm a lot more sensitive than your average male stereotype. More emotional. More on your level."

Rrrrright.

Mental note: cross Miss J off Christmas card list. PERMANENTLY.

Also, change email address. Preferably to something like: crazy_female_emotional_loz@mrbigsworld.com.....

Another friend, Mr B, once told me that he was going to find me a boyfriend, because apparently, I "needed one," presumably as one "needs" a hobby, or to play a sport. When I found out the object of my intended affection was nicknamed Spiff or Spikk or something equally dubious, I backed away faster than Kate Moss at a London police station.

Then there was Miss C's ill-fated set-up, involving myself, herself and a boy named Mr G...It went a little something like this:

C likes G. G has pesky ex-girlfriend. L likes G. G still has pesky ex-girlfriend. C decides to get over her crush, seeing no potential. C decides to focus on L's crush, which seemingly has more potential. L develops huge crush. G still has pesky ex-girlfriend. Pesky Ex-Girlfriend now possibly Even Peskier Girlfriend.

Set-ups are bound to end in disaster. Unless you are Meg Ryan and your friend introduces you to Tom Hanks, and there somewhere in the equation lies a kid with a cute smile and a yellow rucksack, they just do not work.

However, my friends still do not understand this, and persist in their attempts to find me a man. It has come to the point where I have written an extensive list cataloguing 92 characteristics my ideal man needs to have. Not your traditional "honesty," "confidence" or "trust." Nope...more like "favourite book must not be The Da Vinci Code," "must have watched Gone With the Wind and enjoyed it" and "must not drive a blue car." By the end of the list, I was just testing myself, to see how inane the characteristics could possibly become. I think no. 86 might have been, "must speak fluent Pali"....

Still, no respite. Mental note to self: find new friends....or maybe just...invent a boyfriend for myself...