Entries in Marathon Man (5)


You're dumped eHam

I finally deleted my eHam profile.  It felt weird.  Like I was letting an old friend go.  Throwing out a pair of jeans that once looked good on me. Killing off my chance to find love (pfffft, joking).  I won’t lie, as a What If Girl, it was hard. 

I’ve been on eHam for a few years – I don’t want to confess how long for fear of sounding like a loser – but it was fun.  When I first signed up I dated enthusiastically, lining up several dates every week, and chatting to a few men at once.  Then as the excitement of meeting potential partners wore off, I logged on only when I felt like it, throwing myself in and out of the dating world for as long as my self esteem would allow.

Now that journey – or should I say roller coaster - is over.  Yes, I’m still single.   But that’s okay. 

Did I meet some great men?  Absolutely.  Some of them I’m still in contact with.  Coffee Boy, one of my first dates, who texts me every year on my birthday to catch up.  Marathon Man, who I dated for a while (he’s now happily married again with another child).  Celebrity Chef, one of the hottest guys I met, swaps funny stories and emojis with me like we’re bored 15 year olds.  Oh and most recently, The Sailor, who was a brilliant dinner date and plus one.  I liked him a lot.  Never mind.  

I also talked to and met some weirdos.  IronMan, the uber strong Leo who had a voice like a jockey and talked in the third person about everyone.  Thong Man who had a fight with me because I didn’t want to meet him after ten minutes of chatting.  Smiley Face who said that women who wear glasses are librarians and that we let way too many asylum seekers into our country. Elvis the bragger and 50/50 boy the groper.  Delete.

Then there were the awesome guys I met but didn’t click with physically or emotionally.  Sometimes me, sometimes them.  The Food Scientist and I had a brilliant four hour date, then nothing.  Fireman Sam (an old school romantic), the Drummer (lots of fun) and Sauce Boy (who flew from Canberra to take me to dinner on Valentine’s Day).  All lovely guys, just not right for me. 

I also had some interesting match ups … Carlos the Spanish Horse Whisperer … Scott the Swinger who had a wife AND a girlfriend, and was looking for another playmate to join them … and the lovely Michelle, a woman transitioning and looking to explore the world of dating as she became a man.  Then there was Nick who ended up dating Twin Kat for a few months. Thank God she never brought him home.  Awkward on a new level. 

A huge shout out to The Painter, Italian Stallion and Five Perfect Dates who all have their own chapters in my upcoming book.  If I ever finish it. 

As I hit the delete button on my account I felt good.  It was time to try something new and get rid of the things in my life that weren’t working.  Done.  I closed my laptop.  A little later, however, I received more matches in my inbox.  What?  I logged on again to find I had only stopped my subscription, not deleted my account.  My profile was still there attracting men.  Nice try eHam. 

I searched the site and finally found the Close My Account section.  As I hovered over that tiny red button, I wondered if this was the right thing to do.  What If, my head taunted me.  What IF?!  No, I’m done.  We are done. 

I clicked the button and a collage of cute men scrolled across my screen with an ominous sentence … “Are you sure you want to close your account? These are some of the people you might be missing out on.”

Are you for real?!  Where the hell were all these hotties the past few years?  It’s like going to AA and someone waving a bottle of champagne in your face before you walk through the door. My self discipline may not be that strong.  I pressed the “Yes, Delete my Account” button.  Another screen popped up.   “Warning!  Are you sure you want to do this?”  

A list of reasons not to delete my profile tugged at me.  You will permanently lose all your matches.  Shame. You will lose all communication with your matches.  Fine. You will have to retake the whole relationship questionnaire (or 936 stupid questions about dumb shit as I like to call it).  Yep.  Got that.  I’m out of here.

Finally after getting through myriads of dating firewalls, my account was closed.  Dead.  Dormant.  Deleted.  Hundreds of men that didn’t quite fit me (or vice versa) disappearing into a cyber black hole.  Just like that.  My fallback database of potential love was gone … for good. 

 Surprisingly, it feels really good.  And no, I’m not signing up for Tinder.   


What would Ke$ha do?


I've had a tough few weeks - lots of bad things happening - injuries - work has been super busy and a bit stressful - headcolds and sickness - good friends have moved away - it feels like I've had my fair share of crap lately.  Now something else has happened to add to that, and frankly, I'm over it.  

Ke$ha and Pitbull are touring Australia when I am in Spain.

I know. You’re probably as shocked as I am.   When I heard they were touring in October I madly started googling to find exact dates, thinking I could travel interstate to see a show if they were here before or after my overseas trip.  But no.  Pitbull and Ke$ha are here – in MY country – MY state – when I am on the other side of the world eating churros and seeing my best friend get married.

Cancelling my trip could be an option. I mean, I love my bestie – she’s been there for all my good and bad moments – and I’d love to see her get married, but it’s Ke$ha AND Pitbull. When will these two musical geniuses be together again on the same stage?  Probably never. She’ll be singing Tik Tok and he’ll be belting it out right there with her. OHMYGOD. This tour is a once in a lifetime opportunity for me to see my two most favouritest artists at the same time.   My heart does a little happy dance when I think about it.  SO much fun.  Then reality kicks in and my soul crumbles … I will miss out.

I could always just go to Majorca and run the marathon, then come back.  I’m sure Wedding Girl can send me photos of her big day.  Or just upload them to Facebook and write captions so I know who all the hotties were.  I bet she’ll have a stack of really awesome friends from all over the world there.  Such a shame I won’t get to meet them, but I’m sure they’d do the same if they were me.  There are some things in life you just shouldn’t miss out on.  Like Ke$ha with Pitbull.

I’m sure she won’t mind if I miss her big day.  Plus, she’ll save money as I was going to eat my weight in paella and Sangria.  This way, everyone wins.  

You’re probably a big Ke$ha fan too, but I need to tell you I am one of the biggest Ke$ha fans ever.  Like ever.  I have all her music on my running ipod and she gets me through the tough times when I hit the wall.   Party Dave and I used to dance all night – as soon as we got tired, we’d put Take It Off on and go for hours.   Ke$ha is my musical cocaine.

She brings out Super Fun Tan – like the time I was at Marathon Man’s house after a long lunch and Blow came on MTV.  That’s my all time favourite Ke$ha song and it does strange things to me.  Fun things. It’s like I just snorted Berocca. Marathon Man and I made history that night.  Dancing.  For ages.  What did you think I meant? It’s a song about a wild, crazy party … “this place’s about to blow, uh oh oh oh.”  Grow up – or as Ke$ha says, When You Grow A Pear, You Can Call Me Back.  

I have a post-it note on my wall at work that says What Would Ke$ha Do?  When I feel like I’m getting a bit safe and boring I use that statement to guide my decisions.  That post-it has got me into a lot of fun trouble and helped me write some awesome board reports.  You should try it  

I also LOVE Pitbull.  His songs are also all about dancing and having a good time.  Sure, it’s a bit weird he calls himself Mr World Wide all the time but Jason Derulo does that in his songs too.  I guess when you’re a mega popstar like that you sometimes forget your own name.  Like when I’m a bit drunk and forget I’m not meant to text my ex.

One of my best Pitbull moments was when Sports Buddy and I were at a corporate cocktail event and Don’t Stop The Party came on.   I may have been full of expensive champagne, but I owned that dance floor, jumping up and down in my heels and tight dress like I was J’Lo’s back up dancer. People were amazed at how brilliant my dancing was.   I even made it my phone ringtone the next day, that’s how much that song means to me.

So now I need to call Wedding Girl and see how she feels about me missing her little soiree because I have something really important to do. I hope she doesn’t get upset. If she does, I’ll just explain how special this gig is to me. A day I will never forget. I can’t help it I love these party people so much.  As Ke$ha says, We r Who We r … I can’t change that. 

She also says C U Next Tuesday, but that’s just rude.   Funny but rude.


You can write, but you can't hide


German Sausage Boy sent me a text today.  I’ve not heard from him for two weeks.  Last night I wrote a blog about it, wondering if I needed to send him a message to say it was great to meet you but this isn’t going anywhere. 

I was at the Bruce Springsteen concert (awesome) – in the middle of nowhere with no phone reception - when I noticed I had a message from him.   I opened it up and my stomach turned.  

German Sausage Boy had read my blog.  About him and our dates.  Shit.

Oh my God.  What did I write?  My mind reeled backwards to 24 hours earlier when I bashed out the short story on our dates – what I thought of him – and that I didn’t want to date him – but wasn’t sure if I had to officially tell him that in a text.  (Or via phonecall if I was brave enough.)

I breathed in and out as Super Girl stood watching me go white.   Just read the text Tan.  Take your shitty medicine and learn your lesson.

Ahhh Tanya, just stumbled over your blog! Quite a privilege to be on it even though there are a few points I disagree with.   But here you have another huge text from me!

Oh no, is he mad at me?  It’s hard to tell.  He says it was my turn to text back and he didn’t hear from me so assumed I wasn’t interested then read my blog so it was confirmed.   Eek.   Well at least I don’t need to send him a closure text now. 

He wants to send me info on his trip to India.   Cool, that’s good.  I’d actually like to know how he goes.  It sounds like an interesting trip – and I love anything for charity – so very happy to follow his progress.  Phew.  Nice guy. 

I googled your name and job and found you … and then the blog!  Still lovely to have met you – you are a good kisser too! Thanks Crazy Tan!  Cheers from the German Sausage Boy.

Oh, what a good sport!   This is why I liked German Sausage Boy.  He seems very positive, happy, laid back.  Cheers for the kissing compliment.  Am glad I didn’t offend him with my blog and he took it well.  That’s a big relief.  I never want to upset anyone with my writing – that’s why I give people different names like GFM, Super Girl and Skinny Bitch.  Am glad that German Sausage Boy has a good sense of humour.

How funny that he just stumbled over my blog.  Hang on.   How did he do that?  Google is pretty awesome, but it takes a bit of detective work to a) find out my full / real name and b) then connect it to Crazy Tan.   German Sausage Boy only knows my first name – he’s quite a detective to put all those pieces together and find out who I am and that I have a blog – and then find that.   Sneaky.

I’ve been caught out by online before.   The Hypnotist found out my real name and where I worked within 4 minutes when I challenged him to find me.  Again, all he knew was my name and what I did for a living.  Seriously Google, you’re not doing a very good job of protecting my privacy.   No wonder my Mum keeps warning me about what I do on the web.  I did get The Hypnotist back by finding out a stack of information about him at the same time, including an instructional video of him hypnotizing people.  Good fodder for our date when we finally met and a reminder to not look in his eyes unless I wanted to cluck like a chicken.

Then there’s Marathon Man who dumped me because of a tweet.  We had been hanging out for around six months and it was fun.  I liked him a lot.  

We were meant to go to a comedy gig and I was really sick.  I felt like shit and looked like shit.  Not great when you are in the early stages of seeing someone you really like, so I cancelled him and said we’d catch up another time.  Fine, he said, no problems.  Raincheck.  Nice guy. 

I had to go to the gig at the last minute for work.  I watched the show, talked to some media and left straight after.  When I got home I tweeted that the comedian was really funny, took some cold & flu tablets and passed out.  Sweet.

After a week of not hearing from Marathon Man (here’s a pattern), he texted to tell me he was mad at me because of a tweet I’d done.  Oh shit I thought, knowing I tweet about my dating adventures, what have I written? (There’s another pattern).  Please God, don’t let my silly sense of humour offend him. 

I scrolled through all my tweets and found nothing I thought was bad. Nothing about Marathon Man.  I had no idea why he would be upset.  So I texted him to ask why. 

Sporadically over the next few hours, he sent me messages telling me how upset he was that I would go to the show without him – that I’d dump him like that – how could I be so rude – he’d never been treated so badly – how could I behave like that – who did I think I was …. On and on with an influx of notes outlining my apparent sins.  I rang to explain but he wouldn’t take my call, texting to say he was too upset to even hear my voice.  Wow, really?   Okay, sorry I upset you, it won’t happen again.

It didn’t happen again, because I never saw Marathon Man again.  Ever.  Which is a shame really as he’s a great guy and I quite liked him.  In fact we chat now and again about running and stuff as he follows me on Twitter.

Oh.  Now I’m going to have to write an apology blog about him after he reads this.   Shit.


Accidental Ex Stalking 

MM has just discovered Facebook.  It only took him a few years, but given his cynicism of the media and anything social networking related, he’s doing pretty well.  The problem is that, as my ex, seeing MM’s face pop up in my Facebook feed every day is a little disturbing. It seems he hasn’t grown up much and is still into motor bikes, fast cars and heavily tattooed rock bands I’ve never heard of.   Seeing his updates drags me way back to my time as a bogan chick, desperately in love with him and his candy apple red Monaro.  What’s worse is that now he’s married and all of his photos are of him with his lovely wife and perfect kids playing happy families.   Kill me.

I am having this social networking issue with a few of my exes.  Yes, I know what you are thinking.   Tan, why are you still friends with your exes?   They’re called EX for a reason.  Like EX-communicado   EX-it from my life.  EX-Cape the torture of this shitty relationship.   (Okay that doesn’t quite work but you know what I mean).

I’m actually friends with the majority of the men I dated.  By majority I mean 98%.  That makes me weird according to my friends and some psychological experts, but really, I don’t care.   I still love these men.  Not in a “Can we please get back together” Taylor Swift way, but the reality is once I’ve loved you, I’m probably going to love you forever.  Unless you end up smashing my heart and being a mega asshole (hello Heroin), then really, I don’t care if I never see you again.  Adios Amigos.

Accidentally stalking your ex is a huge risk with social media.  As opposed to “accidentally” driving past their house to see if that stupid cheating bitch is still living there (hello Heroin). Someone needs to invent an app where you can block your ex if you’re in a bad head space, but check them out when you’re all loved up and in a great relationship.  Eg; when your self esteem is in tact.   Like those phone blockers so you don’t sex text your ex when you’re drunk.   I don’t need one of those, but an ex spam filter for my iphone would be quite useful.

Just this week, I saw various interactions on Twitter between Sports Buddy and some troll who looks like she’s wearing a school uniform.  It’s fine, it’s a fancy dress costume.  I checked.  Come on, I had to make sure he wasn’t being creepy.  Did my mind run wild?  Yes.  Is it harmless?  Probably.  Is it any of my business what he does now?  Absolutely not.  Did it make me a bit antsy?   Um. Well.

Sauce Boy, a guy I went on a few dates with, has uploaded photos of his new girlfriend and his beautiful dog.  I loved that dog.  He was gorgeous.  It made me sad to see how much he’s aged.   She can have Sauce Boy, I just want to see Tinpot again.  

Marathon Man is on Twitter a lot.  He mainly writes about sport and private boy jokes that I don’t understand at all.  But as soon as I see his name in my Twitter feed, my heart skips a little beat and I check to see what he’s been up to.   Most times it’s nothing, but there he is, still in my life, tapping away at my brain.  Sure, we’re not right for each other, but it doesn’t mean I don’t think about him and his sexy, strapped ankles soaking in a bucket of ice now and again. 

I’m not totally obsessed with all the men I used to date.   Last week I deleted the Hot Tradie and the Dirty Talking Indian off Facebook because their updates were annoying and really, they serve no purpose in my life.   Also, the Hot Tradie is having a baby with his new wife – who is a police woman – with a short temper – and a gun.  No need to tempt fate, is there?  I’m sure he’s very happy.

It’s not all bad.  Facebook, Twitter, Instagram .. they can be used for good, not just accidental stalking.  There are other amazing boys in my life who I adore, but only get to hang out with occasionally.  These guys are just friends, but I love them dearly.  Their social feeds fill me with joy when I see all the cool stuff they’re getting up to ... photos of them at parties, their other friends and partners, holidays and funny random shit that make no sense to people who don’t know them.  Stuff that I understand and makes me smile when I get the in joke.   I can see it all and am so happy to know their life is great, even if we don’t get the chance to catch up as much as we’d like.   Social networking can bring you closer to the people in your lives, even if you can’t be with them when you want to.  Like 24/7.  Too much?  

Thankfully my ex hubby isn’t into Facebook so rarely updates or posts anything.  He lives in London so we talk now and again but it’s hard to keep up with each other.  I hear he has a great new girlfriend.  That’s nice.  When I  find out her name, maybe I can Google her.


Online dating ... should I stay or should I go?  

I just opened up my eHam profile to do a bit of cyber stalking on someone I know.  It seems my profile is still active and there are 294 men waiting to meet me. 

Hooley dooley, I’m a popular girl!

Two years ago I was bored, sick of being single and over meeting the same bunch of 27 year old media wankers, so I took the plunge and threw myself into online dating.  My friend Bubba had been nagging me for ages to sign up.  “Lots of people meet online, you should do that.  It’s great.  You’ll meet wonderful men and you can pick and choose who you want.  Go on, do it.  What are you waiting for?  Online dating is awesome!”

All this from a woman who had been happily married for two years to the most amazing man ever.  Bubba hadn’t been single for years, and when she was, men would ask her out all the time.   Easy.  Married people love to tell you how to meet someone.  Because, sure, they are out doing it every night of the week.  How hard can it be?

Really hard.  Soul destroying.  Depressing.  Self esteem lowering.  Horrible.

Dating is worst than a root canal with no anaesthetic if you’re not in the zone.    However it’s also totally awesome if you are in the right space, up for some fun and don’t put yourself – or anyone else - under pressure. Go out, meet some people, have a few drinks, swap numbers.  Who knows what might happen?    

At the time of Bubba’s online persuasion, I was feeling good and ready for a new challenge.  I try to not sit around complaining about stuff if I can help it.  I’ll whinge a bit and let it go if it can’t be fixed – or I'll do something, usually tackling it head on.  This is exactly how I approached online dating.  Take No Prisoners (unless they like to be tied up) may have been my mantra.  Or perhaps it was Take What You Can Get.

At first, I was cautious and contemplative.  I would read every ‘match’ that was sent to me, thinking about the man’s responses.  I’d imagine what he’d be like in real person.   Would he have a deep voice?   I’d look intensely at his profile picture.  He’s smiling - this one has nice eyes – I wonder what all those tattoos on his face mean?  Why do you think this one with no teeth doesn’t want to have children?  Oh, this caravan holiday fan is 62?  That’s fine, perhaps he’s young at heart.  Or he can be a bestie for my Dad.  Retired farmhand loves fishing and cups of tea, does he?  I’m sure we have other things in common.  I painstakingly went through each and every man that was sent to my inbox and seriously considered if he would be my next partner.

Even the man with one arm got a look in.  

Hey, his profile was really really funny.

I met some nice men and went out with a few.  I learnt that I was a ‘great date’.   This is as simple as dressing nicely, smiling and laughing, not getting too drunk, not talking with food in my mouth, asking lots of questions (about him) and not being 108kgs if I said I weighed 60kgs.   Apparently the majority of women online don’t understand this.   I was a catch.

I’m still in contact with some of these guys as they were great to hang out with, we’re just not meant to be in a relationship.   Coffee Boy was my first date and we have dinner twice a year.  Marathon Man and I chat on Twitter and swap running stories.   Sauce Boy flew from Canberra to take me to dinner on Valentine’s Day and we keep in touch via Facebook.   I met some really great guys. 

I also met a few, um, interesting men.   50/50 Boy who never paid for a date – only ever his half.  He’d been on about 208 dates so not surprised.  Iron Man, a policeman who had the body of Adonis but sounded like a jockey – on helium.   Bakery Boy who was lovely and chatty then told me he ‘couldn’t wait til he died so he could meet our Lord and Saviour and be in Heaven forever, away from all the sinners and demons in our world.’   Hey, I love God too Bakery Boy, but you need to relax a bit.  Text messages like that are a bit scary. 

It was a roller coaster of emotions.  

Some nights, I’d have a great time, laughing and chatting, really enjoying their company.  We’d talk for hours about anything and everything.  I’d feel connected to the other person and think, maybe this will be a good thing for a while.   Then suddenly, he’d start taking photos of the front of my house and sending me computer generated paintings (of me) and I’d not be feeling so good about our four week ‘relationship’.

So tonight, when Adventure Boy and I started chatting I felt two familiar emotions. Excitement. And Fear.

Can I really do this again?   Do I want to put myself out there with the likelihood of rejection?   Do I have enough self esteem to pick myself up when I meet someone great and they’re not into me?  How will I feel when I need to have the ‘You’re a great guy, but I’m just not feeling anything more than friendship” conversation?   It’s horrible having to tell someone you’re not into them.  It feels bad and I hate myself for it.  But that’s what you do when you date online.  Some people call it a process of elimination.  No, these shoes don’t fit, let’s see what else you have in the shop I can try on for size.  I can bring them back if I get bored or she gets annoying, right? 

Online dating is hard.  It takes up time and energy.  You have to be strong and not let it ruin your confidence.  But it can also be fun and rewarding and teach you things you never knew about the human race.

Like how funny men with only one arm can really be.   And that no one looks good in a computer generated painting.  Not even me – and I’m a GREAT date.