Fungi and Future Husbands: The Cliche-Ridden Emo Post

After realizing that pubs are not the right place to meet suitable ‘God-fearing men who do not drink, smoke or have wives’ an Ugandan princess in Sussex, England, heads to the local supermarket. With trolley in tow she spies a tall, dark handsome man in the vegetable isle. Feigning interest in fungi, her opening line to this potential future husband is ‘So… You like mushrooms?’

The rest is BBC reality TV show history. He’s a basketball player from the Caribbean. She’s an ‘undercover princess’ on a mission to meet men. She invites him to a BBQ the next day. He texts an hour later confirming his attendance. They spend the entire BBQ (and two further dinner dates and a picnic) gazing lovingly into each others eyes. Then after knowing each other for a week, he proposes marriage and she has to fly home to Africa to await his arrival.

As I watch, I am torn between on one hand wanting to vomit at the ridiculousness of their conversationless puppy dog eyed awkward and totally impractical romance, then on the other hand totally jealousing the butterflies in her stomach and even her tears when they part. Lame, eh?

Do I want butterflies and tears? Do I want a future husband? Nah, Mr Right, if you’re still reading, don’t run a mile just yet. I’m pretty sure that there’s a hormonal switch in my body that will one day make me want to do what I was put on this earth to do in an evolutionary, continue the species kind of way. One day it’ll switch to ON and I’ll suddenly want to settle down and have babies and buy a house and get married etc. But right now, the switch hasn’t flicked. I just want to meet a nice dude and go on nice dates and hold hands and make out n shit, who knows what it might turn into?

I go through phases of occasionally feeling like I’m missing out on that stuff and feeling as ronery as Kim Jong Ill in Team America: World Police. Most of the time I’m pretty content in my own company and in the relationships I have with my family and friends (albeit over skype, the telephone and postal service) and my work keeps me busy and satisfied.

So I don’t want babies and a husband and I don’t want a one-night stand. What I actually want is care about someone, to bake for them, to buy shirts from op shops for, to watch Transformers 2 and Star Wars and South Park and nature documentaries with (hell, I’ve sure watched enough chick flicks, my housemate is bang up for a bad girly vid). Someone to make playlists for and to miss when I’m away. Someone to cheer for, to sit in the front row for, to sell merch for, and if they aren’t a rock star, just have some passion that I can get the pom poms out for. Someone to think about when I hear love songs on the radio. You feeling like vomiting yet?

I want someone to dance with, I don’t care if it’s badly. As much as I’m an empowered female I do still want some one to tell me occasionally I look beautiful (or hot, depending on which dress I’m wearing). I want someone to cook for me when I come home from rehearsals, or dance class or when I’m sick. I want someone to meet me backstage after my show with a bunch of corny flowers they picked out of a nearby garden on the way to the show.

I want to be interesting to someone, someone who doesn’t mind that I’m a complete dag, who knows mostly all about me but still likes me.

I want to shop and plan a meal for everyone when camping, like breakfast or lunch, and not just be the one who just eats everyone else’s food that the other couples have made.

I want to stop sometimes thinking that any one of my ex boyfriends could have been THE ONE, my one chance at happiness.  90% of the time my hopeful optimism and rational brain knows this isn’t true. My late night Facebook stalker brain sometimes isn’t so convinced.

Oh, this is all getting very contemplative and soppy and sadpants isn’t it? I promise I’ll return to hilarious recounts of failed dates (speed dating in K-Hole= jokes aplenty!) in the next blog post. I do apologise for the deviation from hilarity dear reader, but perhaps there are some of you out there who feel the same, or maybe a few of you might read this and feel so grateful for your relationships that you go and take your significant other out on a rad date! Or have intensely passionate sex! High fives!

As for me, I’ll be at Darcytown Woolworths hanging out by the mushrooms…

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3 thoughts on “Fungi and Future Husbands: The Cliche-Ridden Emo Post

  1. I knew it! You are a total romantic. Write more!!!!! This is so brilliant. I’ve hog my Pom pins out for you, not in a ‘i want to be your lover’ kind of way, just a ‘I think your amazing’ kind of way. Xx

  2. Totes Mim, amaze eh? Oh I love love love that you’re such a romantic spesh! I am deep down but I’m also pretty private so I guess I don’t let peeps always see that side of me. So go you, for putting it out there. Oh and I know all about late-night Facecrack stalker brain X

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