noellelynn writes

October 31, 2013

People Who Need To Talk Less, or Talk More.

I love all these people and I need them in my life but seriously, this is what I need from you.

PEOPLE WHO NEED TO TALK LESS

The Girl Who Does My Brazilian Wax

My legs are awkwardly splayed, usually before a full-length mirror (I love myself, but no-one needs to love themselves that much), I have a stranger analysing my lady bits and there’s hot wax and an incredible amount of pain involved. This is no time for small talk. No, I don’t want to explain what a “freelance graphic designer does” or what my love life is looking like. Just rip the ever-loving hair off and let’s pretend we never met.

The Girl Who Does My Nails

Why is there conversation happening beyond “Not too short, oval-shaped, this colour”? I’m already woefully aware of the state of my cuticles, we probably have a language barrier happening and yet this is the time you want to know all about my life? Not a lot is going on if I’m getting my nails done at 2pm on a Tuesday!

The Person Who Does My Hair

Ok, this one kills me every time. This is not your time to shine, hair stylists who want to point out everything that is wrong with my hair. I KNOW what is wrong with my hair. I know YOU know what is wrong with my hair. Let’s just fix it and not ruin the illusion that hair looks nothing like a Victoria’s Secret runway model’s. Thankfully I have found a hair stylist who speaks little English and knows how to make me look pretty.

PEOPLE WHO NEED TO TALK MORE

My Gynaecologist

gynae

This one may seem surprising. I love my gynaecologist because he laughs at all my jokes, we chat about all kinds of stuff while he straps on his miner hat and goes hunting. I think if someone is going to be grabbing your boobs and be all up in your lady business, you need to have the bare minimum of a conversation.

Bartenders

I LOVE chatty bartenders. Tell me what’s in my cocktail, gossip about the crazy people in the bar and of course, give me more alcohol!

October 27, 2013

In Love & War

The art of arguing in relationships is a finely honed craft that is known by no-one. Anyone who says they have a healthy argument system with their partner is lying their fucking asses off because we all know they have their breaking point where someone ends up yelling something completely ridiculous, childish and asinine. You are already a massively flawed human being and being in a relationship is basically 2 lab rats being placed in a uncontrolled-environment experiment where is everyone is watching, waiting to see what happens (ok, everyone is really watching to see you fall apart). Is there anything better than witnessing a couple having a massive argument in public? I think not.

I’ve had the joy of being a spectator to these arguments in real life, the unpleasantness of going through some myself and the support of interviewing a whole bunch of people to understand why men and women argue so differently. Before I break it down, here is my (generalised) conclusion:

All women’s arguments come down to: Don’t you care about me?

All men’s arguments come down to: What more do you want from me?

Emotion vs Logic

Oh, men are the great perpetrators of logic! Logic triumphs over all! Away with you, silly emotional women! When did emotion get such a bad rep? In 2013, haven’t we established that EQ is as, if not more, important than IQ? Sometimes it feels like the minute a woman opens her mouth, the man has already dismissed her intentions as trite and sends her scuttling away back into the kitchen.

Women:

1. Stop rambling the fuck on.

2. Take a deep breath, NEVER RAISE YOUR VOICE.

3. Present your points like Bill Gates launching a new operating system (if you go the Apple presentation route, you run the risk of appearing too excited, causing him to say “This same shit again??”).

Nothing disarms, unsettles and freaks the fuck out of a guy more than when a woman is calm.

Men:

1. If you care about this woman, shut up and listen. Women are naturally hormonal, whether we want to be or not, we cannot help it. Sometimes we whisper, sometimes we scream, just listen.

2. Only mention her “hormones” or “time of the month” if you want to die. Even if you are joking, we still want to poison you slowly and watch you wither away to an excruciating death.

3. You are most likely going to be most logical between the two of you. Realise, that while you are logical, you may not always be right. (And I don’t mean right as in “correct”, I mean what is right for your relationship)

Nothing shuts a woman up faster than if you take her hand and tell her, “I hear you, tell me what you’re feeling”.

Fight Fair

Dirty fighting isn’t tolerated in any sporting arena (from sumo to MMA). This isn’t Fight Club, and if it was, at least one of you look like Brad Pitt. No dirty punches, sly kicks or eye jabs. The name of the game is to get your point across and not to mortally wound your partner. This isn’t Bloodsport. If you are incapable of not ripping his head off and shoving it up his ass, simply say you need some time to collect yourself and will discuss this later.

Big Girls Don’t Cry

Women who cry to turn an argument around have ruined crying for the rest of us. Sometimes, we cry because we frustrated or plain ol’ sad. Then you have the tear-jerking cry babies who turn on the faucet when the argument isn’t going their way. I’ve received two different responses from men I asked about this. One feels that when he sees a woman cry, his “robotic-logical” side gets switched off and he realises he needs to be more emotional and in touch with what this woman is trying to say. Conversely, the other person I asked said that he does not give a shit about a woman crying – whether it’s real or crocodile. In fact, his actual words were “when a woman starts crying, I’m getting in my boat and rowing the hell out of there”.

Fight In The Now

It’s rare that an argument happens and stays in the present. Usually a truckload of shit gets dragged up and snowballs into every argument after. I’m guessing this means you’re basically arguing about the same problem – presented in different forms.

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Note: I write a lot about this stuff but the simple fact is that I know shit about shit. I don’t know how to argue any better than the next person. I’m passive-aggressive, non-confrontational and yet opinionated. Thanks to everyone who let me interview them.

August 15, 2013

10 Signs You’re In The Beginning of A Relationship

This one is for all the newly minted lovers in the house.

1. No-one knows what the hell is going on

Do you call? Does he call? Are you supposed to spend all your time together? Where do your friends fit in all this? Can you stop wearing your good underwear now?

2. The term “girlfriend/boyfriend” is either used liberally or not at all

The first it’s used in public, or at all, is always a zing (or miss) moment…

3. You discover which of your friends are truly happy for you

Women bond over misery, so when one breaks away from the pack in glee, it can lead to bitterness and failed friendships. Don’t be the assholes that ditch their friends for a relationship though.

4. You actually enjoy clubbing together

You may or may not also have had your first argument in a club.

5. You talk about them to your friends like you’re conducting an airplane safety briefing – with optimistic caution

“We’re probably not going to crash today, but if we do, we know where the exits are”.

6. There is no trace evidence of this relationship on Facebook.

Most functioning adults are aware that as quickly a relationship can be updated on Facebook, it can also be removed. Keep that shit under wraps until you’re engaged.

7. You have no regular body functions

What’s “pooing?”.

8. You haven’t left the bed in weeks

9. One or both of you have put on weight

10. The things that will annoy you soon, are currently endearing

See: bed-hogging, snoring, burping, clumsiness…

I apologise for all the usage of Sex and The City.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIrd09JBV_U]

August 6, 2013

Are You There God? It’s Me, PMS.

It’s no secret I am obsessed with my period. Every other tweet I do is about PMS. In fact, I don’t even need a period app, my Twitter timeline basically performs that function. So since I can’t shut up about it, I might as well blog about it.

PMS

Let’s just put it this way, women have been acquitted from crimes because of PMS. I am extremely short-tempered, I hate everyone, I don’t want to do any work, “I’m sorry, I can’t schedule a meeting this week because I’m PMS-ing”, there’s nothing good on TV, “oh my god, why are you calling me, can’t you just text me!”. Everyone gets it, from my clients to my girlfriends. Men would inevitably have to bear the brunt of women’s PMS but god help you if you ever dare suggest that I’m hormonal. “Is it that time of the month?” is a question I sincerely believe can be responded with a heartfelt bludgeoning. In under 3 seconds, I literally become a raging PMS-Zilla, “Whether it’s my time of the month is NOT the point! I hate you! Why won’t you die and leave me alone! Where are you going, don’t go, I need you to rub my feet”.

I Want All The Food

I’m actually pretty good when it comes to snacking, I generally don’t eat a lot of fast or sweet food but with the precision of a Swiss timekeeper, exactly 7 days before the deluge, all I want are carbs. And ice-cream. And chocolate. If there was a mashed potato flavored ice-cream, I’d want it. I want to eat a whole bag of potato chips, while laying in bed, wiping my tears away with my ice-cream spoon. Then there’s the inevitable remorse that happens after and the only thing that will make me feel better are cookies.

The Bloat

The Bloat is some kind of parasite that invades my body, retains water and emotions, renders all my clothes unwearable and seems to enjoy inhabiting my stomach and the fleshy part of my arms just near my underarms (affectionately termed “BUPS – Bits Under The Pits). Where is all this goddamn weight coming from? Does it hide in my shoes for 3 weeks out of a month? How much contouring do I need to do on my face to make myself look like I don’t have 5 chins? And even though this happens every month, I still don’t realise it’s PMS till I catch myself sobbing because I can’t fit into a dress (this may or may not have happened 2 weeks ago).

This Is Zit!

Hey look, I’m 13 again, thanks zit! My body never fails to show me who’s boss by delivering a pimple that’s got roots and a mortgage on my face. It sets up camp and laughs at me as I try everything from toothpaste to a blowtorch.

The Deluge

Then there’s the 7 day wait for the flood to hit. It can come any time! When you least expect it! Usually when you’re wearing white! Always when you never have a tampon!

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Put all these things together and maybe you can understand why many women, like myself, are raging irrational lunatics once a month. There’s no way to make it out alive, so my recommendation to men is: bring her food and shut the hell up.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_weSk0BonM]

July 3, 2013

Get A Chihuahua If:

I’ve had Dolce for 7 years now. I got her when I was part of a couple, and now, I’ve had her as a single (for half her life). I can’t explain why I wanted a chihuahua so badly, it wasn’t for the jewelry. I just knew it HAD to be a chihuahua. We spent weekends in Brisbane looking for the perfect one and of all the dogs to choose from, I picked the most problematic one. These are the lessons Dolce has taught me. (Yes, there were supposed to be two chihuahas, but after I got Dolce, the notion of getting a “Gabbana” was quickly abandoned)

Get a chihuahua if:

You have a family and are not single

All dogs don’t like to be alone but Dolce has these crazy lunatic “ERRRMAAAGERRRDDD MOMMY’S HOMMMMMEEEEE” attacks whenever I’m in a 5-km radius around home. She runs around, throws herself on the door, runs up the stairs, runs down the stairs and then finally has a reversed trachea attack (more on that later). If it wasn’t for the support of my family, it would be tough for me to have a social life that would allow me to stay out all night (what? clubs open till late now) or go on vacations.

You want a dog that you have sat on

My ex-boyfriend threw his whole body weight on the sofa and smushed our little 3-month old chihuahua in the process. She was alright but I suspect some mental damage occurred.

You want a dog that you have to carry around

Initially, this was super cute when she was 500grams. Then, she ballooned into some sort of Yao Ming chihuahua at a whopping 4.3kg and walks to the beach end up with me carrying her tubby ass home.

You want a dog that wedges herself everywhere

Chihuahuas are burrowers – they love crawling under blankets (I lost her there once) and wedging herself right against your body, or in her case, her favorite place, between my legs (hey, who can blame her?). This results in cramped legs and being pushed off my own bed by a chihuahua.

You want a dog with health problems

Dolce has every small dog health problem: reversed trachea (sounds like an asthma attack), heart murmur, ear infections, impacted anal glands (yes, this is exactly how it sounds) and luxating patellas. (Pic was her after a bee sting, which she, of course, was allergic to)

You want a dog with social problems

Unfortunately, I think Dolce was from a puppy mill which means poor breeding and as a result she has poor socialisation skills. I’ve sent her to puppy kindergarten (yes) where the specialist diagnosed this as a form of “doggy autism” and I had an epic crying breakdown right in front of this large Australian woman who had no idea what to do. Dolce is petrified of all other dogs – from fluffy puppies to lazy seniors. As a result, she’s a little dog-lonely, but I don’t think she notices.

You want a dog that doesn’t eat a lot of dog food but wants all your food

Dolce wants ALL YOUR food. If you want her to be your friend, just have food. This bundle of nerves will suddenly transform into Lassie if you have bacon. She loves durian and fro-yo.

Every guy you’ve ever dated puts you in the “Paris Hilton” high-maintenance box

I understand the association but I don’t see why my having a chihuahua would have anything to do with my high-maintenance form. That comes from a whole lot of other things.

You want a dog can will sleep anywhere

Dolce can sleep anywhere – on my table, on my mouse, on my feet, on my hands, under blankets, under beds. She’s quite gifted.

I love Dolce. Remember, a pet is for life.