You know you’re getting too old when the young 22 year old asks how old you are and when you say 22 he goes , ‘REALLY?’. NO, NOT REALLY ASSHOLE but why couldn’t your mom have taught you any better???? how did the line ‘never ask a woman her age’ get lost along the way??? 

Enough about the rant but it follows on from last nights debacle. Feeling a little cocky and confident in my bright green short shimmy dress i accompanied a bunch of guy friends to a happening nightclub on the harbour.

A word to the bouncers out there: when you see a girl pay her money and get wrist stamped as you are standing 1 foot away, you look kind of retarded asking ‘can I see your stamp?’. After this unbelievable act of horrendous stupidity I swaggered into the club and was met by a mob of good looking people. It was warm, everyone had a tinge of sweaty glow…some might even say, they outright stank and it was only 8pm but it was a nice atmosphere.  

We were getting VIP treatment, drinks were flowing, music was pumping with a live band throwing out some old school tunes with the likes of no diggity no doubt, easy like sunday morning, amongst others. Star look alikes , cuz i swear Avon Barksdale from ‘the wire’ was walking around that place, were milling about.

Of course an hour in, i got bored of all the fakeness and decided to wander and see some other friends and walked into a group of boys and casually asked ,’ hey are you guys here with a girl called beck?’. I wasn’t really looking at them (or for beck for that matter) when I asked but vaguely made out a few shaking of heads, then I heard the guy in front of me say ,’hey don’t i know you? don’t you work at ‘the alfred?’. That’s a hospital i used to work at!!!! I quickly turned my gaze to him thinking ‘shit, i’m dressed a little slutty right now, this could be a colleague, be cool be cool.’ But simultaneously i was thinking ‘ daaaamn u hot! how the hell could i work with you and not have tapped that?’   Instead I said casually ,’yeah i did, what did you do again?’

Turns out he was the hot guy that served me my lunch at the cafe!!!!!!!!!! He used to slip me freebies all the time and discount my drinks and he made my day each time i saw him!!! I was so shocked when i recognized him, i babbled stupidly for only a few minutes before i recovered my cool. He had started his own buisness since then and was in the cafe industry and i lamely told him i had swapped to soy milk…..seriously i don’t think he would have cared if i drank coke mixed with orange juice. So the 411 on this guy is: he is half sudanese and half lebanese…looks like his is from latin america….the most beautiful silky voice and the nicest manner on him. damn!

Later in the night I was walking around like a lost puppy when i bumped into him and he goes ,’hey will u be okay getting back home?’. I feigned fear at being left by my friends and he goes ,’ look my cousin is not drinking so take my number and I will let you know when we are leaving and if you need a ride we will make sure you get home safe’. CUTE!!!!!!!!!!!! I batted my eyelashed and said ,’yes i don’t know if I will find my mates but let me have a look’ … of course as i turned around, bumped into them, awkward!.

And indeed as I was walking into my house he called to make sure i was okay getting home and we had a sweet conversation. it was the cutest…a misadventure, well not quite with him. The part of the misadventure i left out was meeting a young italian/brazilian guy who had eyed me all night and finally tried to kiss me and stuff his gum into my mouth. EWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!! No douchebag, if I named all the gram negative and positive bacteria, not to mention the anaerobes that would have been embedded in your gum, you would never chew again!!!!! 

See if every man just chewed his own damn gum and checked up on their girl to make sure she was safe this world would be a better place. Girls just want some confidence and to know they are being care for…too much?





The questions around life and love has been a long, painful and lonely process for me. I have grown cynical along the way. Ever since the I first heard mom and dad’s tale of bollywood romance I have dreamt of meeting my dream man, or for those indians out there….my raja hindustani, and for the white folks: my knight in shining armour. It’s not about meeting a guy, it’s about the funny banter that starts things up or the awkward situation that becomes cutely romantic with an ensuing complicated storyline that ends up in everlasting love. Yes it’s the fairy tale that all ladies are after, like the ones my parents had. Of course they are still together 35 years later but fight like cats and dogs, sometimes cute but most times irksome. But let’s leave that aside.

Unlike the grand love story of the parentals and other normal girls, I seem to always have a countlless number the most awful date stories !!!!!  I went out a few weekends ago with some doctor mates and after a serious evening of partying we ended up at a fairly well known, and some might say seedy, nightclub in the heart of melbourne. Shaking our tailfeathers and oggling at some fairly ugly men, it was not a night worth remembering until the end of the night; my friend Lisa and I were standing outside like two very sophisticated ladies sucking back a cancer stick, when along came a fiiiiine specimen of a man. 
He smoothly walked over and words swooshed out of his perfectly formed lips ,”where you from” he asked me in a funny italian accent.
I can’t remember much of the bullshit conversation that ensued other than there was a lot of ‘where are you from’ , ‘ no , i wont’ tell you unless you tell ‘ kind of childish banter. I was more taken by the faint smell of amazing cologne that emanated from him, and looking at his mild exophthalmos which was not unappealing despite whatever image you have conjured up. Imagine well built, great arms, great smile and very charming.
We ended up at worst club this world has ever seen.  A small dingy place playing drum and bass ( who knew THAT genre was still alive). He asked me few times why i had dragged him to such a shit place but he clearly didn’t seem to mind when 20 minutes into our conversation he put his drink down and started kissing me. Can’t say his slobber was the best experience I have ever had but there were some nice moments in that kiss so I decided to give him a second chance when he put his number into my phone.
Over the next three weeks we texted (it’s 2013 folks, love letters are dead and we must move with the times) and I kept asking Lisa (my girlfriend who I was standing with when he first came over to woo me me,  if the effects of the beer goggles had prevented me from seeing the truth but she reassured me that he was in fact good looking. I finally caught up with him 2 nights ago and I know this story is dragging on a bit so let me give you the snapshots:
I was at a grand festival called White Night, which btw was fantastic!!!!! I ended up with Lisa and few other friends at our usual place, Collins quarter where Mr Brazil (who btw, was born in Rome but grew up in Brazil) met me with a few of his friends. His flatmate, let’s call him fabio from afghanistan, was an absolute drunken douchebag which should have been my first warning sign. But nonetheless, on I went with my dream of a perfect brazilian/italian love affair.

My friends left, the bar was closing and frankly his friends were starting to bore me so when he said ‘lets’ get out of here’ I was more than ready. Walking the streets of Melbourne aimless at 3 am in heels is not my idea of a great night though. We tried to go to my favourite little spot, ‘eau de vie’ but of course it was closed and in a tiny alley way, away from prying eyes, mr brazil and I made out like teenagers until things got a little frisky. “No” I said ,’i’m not that kind of girl!!!’. Of course he tried being a little pushy but finally i walked away and he suggested going back to his place and to cut my long ramblings short I said no very firmly at which point he dropped my hand and WALKED OFF IN A HUFF!!!!!!!

BASTARD!!!!! he then acted irate because I would not sleep with him and I turned into some submissive twat that kept asking what was wrong.WHAT THE HELL DO U THINK WAS WRONG? Finally i said ‘look i should look for a cab’ and when after 10 minutes there were no cabs i said politely ‘perhaps i should catch a tram home instead, looks like it may be quite a wait for cabs’. His response irked me immensely, he simply shrugged and said ‘okay’. And there  I was, a single and some might say beautiful 31 year old walking the streets of Melbourne at 3.30 am to catch public transport. If, on the off chance, he is reading this i would like to say , ‘Mr Brazil, u are dead to me!’.

He messaged me the next day to say ‘it was nice to see you last night’ and I, of course, did not response. Kudos to me. To the readers out there, I know this has been longwinded but the point of the story in this case was that most men seem to be after that one thing. If he had not been so pushy I might have seen him again but alas, such impatience can be so unrewarding!


Before I start divulging my deepest and darkest stories/fantasies, I want you guys to understand that I am not some sexually aggressive predator. I am not a whinging female that is high maintenance (okay some might disagree on the latter description but screw them I say).  I am a new age girl, with some old fashioned ideas that are hard to integrate into todays world. I am hoping by writing this blog I will gain some insight, either from the recesses of my own soul or from astute readers of this blog, about why love fails miserably each and every time. If you are in a happy relationship reading this, perhaps we should talk in 5-10 years. I would also like to point out that I am not generally pessimistic but in that last 12 months I have come to know 10 couples who are divorcing. What the hell is going on here? 

Why have I become so obsessed with this idea of finding the perfect guy when I see every relationship around me breaking down. Yes i know there is no such thing as the perfect guy…i get that. But can there be a perfect way of meeting someone? a perfect courtship?  The seeds of such fantasies were sown when i was a child listening to my mother recount the tale of how she met my dad.
Mom was a good muslim girl from Iran. Tall, beautiful and bit of a goody goody three shoes if you ask me. She was dropping her friend of at a university in Bombay and helping her get admission into her course. My dad, bit of a hippie from the unknown tiny island of Mauritius, thought he was too cool for school and that the ladies probably went apeshit over him…hate to kill the dream dad. He too was at the same university helping his mate with the same issue when he saw mom across the grounds and turned to his friend and said ‘OMG (ok i’m sure that abbrev didn’t exist back in the day), that woman is gorgeous, go and ask her out for coffee. Not sure why he didn’t do this himself, bit of a wimp move.
So the geeky indian friend goes up to mom and her friend and asks politely ,’ hi my name is Raj. My friend and I over there couldn’t help notice two beautiful ladies and we were wondering if you would like to join us for a coffee sometime?’. Now i’m not sure how much of this story is true but apparently mom, in a shocked manner, offended by the mere suggestion she would have coffee which inevitably would lead to sex, slapped poor raj and walked off. An extremely ballsy move, although today it would be termed CRAAAAAAZY BITCH!!!
Several months later dad caught a glimpse of this ravishing beauty across the crowded streets of Mumbai, which for those who have not been to the city is an incredulous moment of fate! He waived frantically to get her attention. Finally their eyes met and she was slightly worried about this young man who was grinning from ear to ear. He ran over dribbling on about how he met her several months ago and of course mom didn’t remember him. Mom was with her friend at the time, who developed a crush on dad. My cunning father used this poor unknowing friend and asked innocently, ‘ would you like to go out to dinner? although my only condition is that you will have to bring your friend her along (my mom).’ So long story short, the dumb girl brought mom along just so she could score a dad with my father. hah. Rookie mistake!
At one point mom’s friend went to the bathroom to powder her nose, or whatever it is girls do for hours in those toilets (beats me) and my dad had a few sneaky minutes with the woman of his dreams. He looked at her and said coyly ‘ hey i hear you’re learning french’. Mom answered cooly ‘yeah so?’. My dad replied ,’ well do you know what je t’aime means?’. Of course goody goody there was clueless and thought he was swearing at her because his expression had changed. Being a proud woman of persian descent she got up in a huff and stormed out the restaurant with my father on her tail and the poor friend still caking her face in make up.
Mom found a cab, jumped in, and slammed the door only to hear a wail from outside the window. It slowly dawned on her that this screeching cat was the sound of dad screaming as his  fingers got jammed into the cab door. ouchie!  She felt really bad and got out to make sure he was okay which obviously he was not given he  probably broke a few pharynges and had significant periungal bleeding. ‘Oh i’m soooo sorry!! i really didn’t see! are you okay?’ blah blah blah. 
 ‘Oh don’t worry about it. Because one day i’m going to marry you and you will bear my children.’ Then there was my sister and I.
BAM!!!!!  crazy? creepy? yes i’ll pay that. But persistent and knowing exactly what he wanted in life? yes! at the tender age of 23 he saw a woman, fell in love and for months or years after he pursued her until they married.
It’s sunday morning and i had a massive night yesterday and cannot be bothered getting into the details how she was pursued but suffice it to say that he went to Iran three times from Mauritius, despite being broke, and kept asking for her hand in marriage until my grandfather cracked.
The point of that long sordid story was to say this: THAT SHIT DON’T HAPPEN NO MORE!!!!!! and i want to know why. Why do I keep meeting boys/ men that only want one thing.  They don’t ever want to settle down because our new culture states that we must keep having sex with different individuals until one day we realized ‘oh shit…i have hit my thirties and my sperm is getting a little stale’, i best use them while i can. What happened to the days of old and can we bring it back. This may take a mass movement but I think if enough people feel the same way it is a possibility!