I'M BACK, I'M MEDICATED & I WENT SPEED DATING
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CRY FOR HELP? NO, IT'S CALLED A BLOG.
Well, well, well. Look who decided to return to the world of unsolicited oversharing… me! After a hiatus that began with a soul-crushing comment and ended with… well, me deciding I don’t care anymore, here we are. Why the break? Someone important in my life thought my blogs read like a cry for help. Ouch. But let’s face it: if honesty, humour, and a sprinkle of existential dread scream help me, then call me a siren.
Still, their words stuck for a while. What if everyone reading this thought the same? But then I remembered that most of you loved my posts (or at least lied convincingly), and honestly, isn’t the real cry for help not blogging at all? Anyway, I’m medicated now.
THE ADHD DIARIES: MEDS AND MILD EXPECTATIONS
So, what’s new since October? Two days before Christmas, I started ADHD meds. Because nothing screams merry and bright like managing executive dysfunction over some pavlova. Do I feel miraculously transformed? Not quite. But I’m less mopey, which is progress, right? Reddit swears I’ll have an “aha!” moment in 6-8 weeks, so stay tuned for either enlightenment or another blog entry complaining about Big Pharma.
SINCE WE LAST SPOKE
Here’s a highlights reel of my adventures:
Played a duo gig at Doo Bop Bar with Brisbane bass legend Jeremy O’Connor. Terrifying? Yes. Survived? Also yes.
Got to interpret for Matt Corby, my longtime musical crush. Professionalism was maintained, promise.
Got a hefty, full-block fringe cut onto my noggin. Jury’s still out on whether I’m serving edgy or oh sweety, no.
I got to interpret a live show of RockWiz which was really cool. I've watched that show since I was a kid so I was super giddy about it.
I travelled to my least favourite Australian city of Melbourne (don’t judge me) to work with my Pub Choir family.
Interpreted Round the Twist: The Musical. Stressful? Sure. But fun, in that chaotic Australian childhood nostalgia way.
Went on some dates. One guy had serial killer conversation energy (“I love running at night because I don’t have to worry about being stabbed like you women do!”), and another was nice, we went to a show at The Brightside but afterwards, his comms were slack as hell and I pulled the pin, NEXT!
Saw and loved the Wicked movie with my besties, twice!
Got an iron infusion. Felt like roadkill for a few days but am now brimming with life. Or iron. Same thing.
Saw Korn live at Good Things Festival. It was everything.
Got two new tattoos, bringing my 2024 total to 10. My wallet is in mourning.
Worked with my stunning Pub Choir fam again for their Christmas show at the Riverstage where heaps of dosh was raised for Women's Legal Service. Super wholesome vibes!
I started with a new interpreting agency after a 6 month interviewing/onboarding process and now I am working from home a lot more and absolutely loving it! 1000% worth the wait.
And, I went speed dating. Yesterday… ugh.
CONSCIOUS SPEED DATING: A $45 LESSON IN WOO WOO
Ah, speed dating. Nothing says modern romance like compressing all the awkwardness of courtship into 8-minute intervals. I impulsively signed up for a “Conscious Speed Dating” event on Christmas Day because loneliness + marketing emails = bad decisions.
When I arrived, I immediately regretted it. Picture a room of strangers, all looking like they’d rather be anywhere else, and you’ve got the vibe. Then came the woo-woo. Group breathing exercises, ommm sounds, and holding space for everyone’s feelings. My skepticism was bursting through my outer epidermis.
The dates themselves? A mix of awkward small talk, spiritual unpacking activities (no thanks), and two separate men asking, “Do you want kids?” Five minutes in, I had the existential clarity of a Magic 8-Ball: Outlook not so good.
By the end, my “love pocket” (yes, really) contained five phone numbers, and I couldn’t help but wonder: Were we on the same date? For $45, I expected at least a complimentary drink. Instead, I got deep breathing exercises and a fresh dose of misanthropy.
Would I recommend this event? Not really. It felt like a cash grab disguised as a spiritual connection. Honestly, these event organisers are no better than dating apps. Both take your money while dangling the promise of love that no one can truly guarantee. If they really cared about “passionate human connection and intertwining roots with other human beings,” they’d hold the event for free. But props to them, they raked it in. Thirty people at $45 each? You do the math.
WHAT’S NEXT?
I’ve seen an event by “Thursday Dating” that’s just a bar full of single people mingling, no kumbaya. I might give it a shot, but not this month. I need a nap to recover from my previous attempt at finding love (or at least tolerable conversation).
That’s it for now. I’ll aim for weekly blogs again, but let’s not hold our collective breath, yeah? Life happens.
Wishing you all an exceptional week, or perhaps just an average one. Average is perfectly fine.
Song recommendation of the week: DENIAL IS A RIVER by Doechii
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