An inside look at bait dangled by poor tragic church boys to slightly more discerning church girls [i.e. me]
Subject: I am interested in you knowing you more better
Message:
I saw your profile and i felt i have finally found my life partner.You are like God’s dove, so beautiful, so pretty, with good hobbies and everything about you match with my style. and that’s what I love, . Thank you, God, for this special woman, you gave me – I can’t thank him enough for the love and beauty that I found.i think i will be much interested in getting to know you better and i believe you will be more interested in knowing my kind of person too.in other to allow communication and getting to know each other easy,i will like to exchange my yahoo chatting id with you.you can chat with me on [name withheld]@yahoo.co.uk so i will be much interested in yours too.do reply now or add me now if you have yahoo account now so that we can chat.
Lucky.
[ed. you’d be lucky]

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It’s my view that one of the nicest things anybody ever said about me went something like this
“She can come by again, she’s normal.”
I’m serious, it was just about the biggest compliment… ever.
Ok, so this may not strike you as particularly unusual but the line was delivered by the brand new husband of a close friend, who had a bit of a phobia about people of the ‘Christian persuasion’. More specifically people of the branch of the Christian persuasion that I represent [as a staff member and church member, not as an official spokesperson or anything].
Good on you Howzit. You totally recognize quality.
Of course, in some Christian circles to be recognized thus may in fact mean I’m carrying a first class, one way, ticket to ‘you know where’.
Let’s examine the evidence.
I drink alcohol.
I say ‘Oh My God!’ sometimes.
I also say Bugger! (and Bloody Hell!).
and sometimes, if I’m really angry enough… I’ve been known to say F*ck (- look, I’m hopeless I can’t even bring myself to write it down…).
I go to the movies – sometimes on a Sunday.
I play cards.
Sometimes I don’t even go to church on a weekend.
I’ve been known to dance (but you’ll find no evidence to prove it while I yet live).
I’m gambling away $13 bucks in a footy tipping competition this year.
I know, I can hear the sharp intake of breath from here. Scandalous.
I can’t even give you a list of things that I do (or don’t do) which negates the above and proves to you what a good Christian girl I am because actually, for me, being a good Christian girl stopped being about what I do a really long time ago.
[ Ed. Ok this is the part where it gets a bit airy fairy and spiritual… you can cut to the bottom if you like.}
This is largely because being a Christian suits me a lot better when it’s a faith about God and who he is and what he did on my behalf. It’s about being loved by the man (JC) and loving him in return. It isn’t about a religion, a set of rules, imposed on me by man (albeit on Gods behalf.)
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not now saying that everything is permissable as though this human imposition of divine rule of law has been the only thing keeping me from total ‘licence to thrill’. (Let’s face it, if that were the case I’d have shacked up long ago… ) Actually it’s more about the fact that in knowing God and loving him I actually don’t want to live short of his ideal. Which is kind of bizarre bearing in mind of course that I know I’m never going to be able to get it perfect. One could even suggest that as I’m never going to get it right I might as well just slough off the weight of faith and go for gold..
Ah well, I tried it for a while but actually I just can’t bring myself live that hedonistically long term and still be happy. I’m fortunate then that His affection for me transcends my [apparently] miserable failure to be perfect and actually goes to my core. The who I am… Dee… valuable simply because I’m me.
Living like this totally takes the pressure to perform right off. And totally makes me more normal looking to the people outside of this peculiar Christian universe and means that I [like Bono] could say Fuck It [ooh, I can’t believe I did that] and not fear retribution, (except were it from a priest or congregation member reading over my shoulder)
I’m thinking about all these things because, as I mentioned above, there are some people within the Christian persuasion who would consider me far from normal and perversely they’re the ones I’m quite likely to say Bugger in front of just to watch them choke.
Oh, and because the Bloody Hell boy actually called me tonight and I suspect he’s just one of those sorts of Christians…
Which tempts me to declare…
Game
On.

I’ve not blogged much in recent times about this whole singular business (as in the business of being singular rather than my business). Mostly because it’s none of your business really but more particularly because it hasn’t been an issue for me in a while… well, not much of one, anyway.
The promised phone call never happened, and I shrugged it off as typical of the Saunternator… all talk and no action… Of course to take that view is to dismiss the other thought, the one that imagines the subject, upon suggestion that it’s me he calls may have roundly dismissed the idea…
I prefer not to dwell on that.
So, in recent weeks I’ve been entertaining a bit of an e-correspondence with a singular person of the less fair sex which, as a girl, tends to ignite a flutter in the old emotive region.
Try as one might not to let the heart get away from the head it’s a slippery beastie and I’m forced to admit that the prospect of this masculine interest has been very gratifying. Particularly as Mr Singular initiated it a couple of weeks ago after viewing my profile on one of those GODS (Godly. Online. Dating Service) sites.
Things had been [I thought] progressing nicely enough until I stopped hearing from him over the weekend. And as a charitable girl I gave him the benefit of the doubt, anticipating that perhaps he only has intermittent access to the web… he’s a student after all…
However, after not finding any response to my latest missive [3 days old I might add] in my inbox last evening [Monday] I sent him a nudge, with my phone number in it which was apparently received well and which was replied to with an appointment to call on Thursday. All very [potentially] exciting I hear you say…
And I agree.
Until he emailed me an hour ago with a request for another photo of yours truly.
In the spirit of giving him the benefit of the doubt once again I simply imagine the last colour photo was a bit obscured and he may simply want a closer look.
However the emotive girl says? Is that all it’s about? Whether I look good enough? And I’m forced to wonder what’s the next email going to say? Is it “Ah, sorry love.. not blonde, skinny, young, attractive enough… I’m going to keep shopping…” ?
I’m just desperate enough to give it one last shot but I’m deliberatly not sending a full length photo – hah!.. and in truth, I’ve resisted the temptation to send him this…
Bloody Hell though, one stupid email left me feeling all kinds of sick.
Sigh, it’s on days like today, being a singular girl’s a total b*tch…

[ssh don’t mention the] Valentine’s Day is just around the corner… and to celebrate (or commiserate) you could send a card (or an anti-card)

Or you could just get out there and spoil yourself.

Like I did.
With this… My new Precious. (Relegating the iPod to being referred to as my ‘semiPrecious’)
I know, it’s extravagant… and before you gasp and sling me a barrage about wasting money… remember this…
I’m single.
I don’t have to acccount for my cash…
(That being said this puppy was an ebay bargain…)