So, I'll preface this by saying that it may appear from this post that I am big-noting myself. I am, undoubtedly so, but indulge me, because all of my self-flattery has a point.
My last relationship completely shot my confidence, tore it completely to shreds, and I felt like the grieving period afterwards, coupled with the disappointment, aged me more quickly than I would like. In other words, it took a lot out of me. My ex almost took the title of King of Emotional Fuckwittery (but just lost out to the ex that came before him, who began the hideous cycle of self-doubt that I had fallen into). Therefore, the more recent ex will be known as the Lord of Emotional Fuckwittery (LEF). The LEF built me up with all of these hopes and dreams and fantasies, and then tore them all down, ripped out my heart, stamped all over it, and wondered why at the end of all this I didn't really want to be friends. But I think the worst thing about the entire situation was the fact that the demise of the relationship sapped me of any confidence that I had: confidence in my ability to make good decisions when it comes to relationships, confidence in my ability to know when to trust in another human being and believe what they are telling me, and just confidence in the way that I looked and felt about myself.
Since arriving in Dublin I've been feeling a little bit ugly. I can't really put my finger on why. I guess it must have something to do with the adjustment period I'm going through, getting used to being away from my family and friends, and the fact that there are loads of beautiful (like OMFG! beautiful) Irish girls didn't help my fragile little ego. I was just starting to get over all that, getting back to my usual state of being vain and checking myself out in any reflective surface, randomly smiling at good-looking lads in the street, and then last night rolled around.
Last night I went on a pub crawl with a large collection of people, mainly Aussies, and it was marvelous fun (or craic, if you prefer). I drank a ridiculous amount of alcohol (think lots of cider, 3 euro shots of Baby Guiness, 5 euro cocktails with red bull in them, and a 7% beer). Along the way there was lots of heckling the tour guide (DAVO!) who was a great guy, feeling up of men dancing in cages, and requests for Galway Girl with the local trad musicians (who indulged our whims).
At the cocktail bar (Capitol- brilliant, so going back there) I met three young guys at the bar, all wearing very similar v-neck jumpers with small animal/bird motifs on the left-hand side of the chest area. I didn't really get a vibe that they were interested, and I had to leave for the last club, and they did the polite thing and asked me to tell them where I was going and said that they might catch up with me later (I did not have high hopes of this).
So it was on to the club, which was also just brilliant. Lots of cool bars, dancefloors, cages, etc. And the music was great. I was standing at the bar and struck up a conversation with a couple of guys who as it turns out were over from England on a stag's night (Dublin is disturbingly popular for these type of events). They were asking me where I was from in Sydney and when it turned out I was from Summer Bay (or at least where H&A is filmed) they started asking why I wasn't an extra in the show. I informed them that I am not really H&A material, not being tanned or blonde etc. One of them proceeded to tell me that I was definitely pretty enough to be on H&A (aww, shucks, what a lovely little ego-boosting lie). The other agreed that I definitely looked more Irish than what stereotypical Australian women apparently look like, and told me he thought I was Irish until I started to speak. Anyway, the second one, and by far the better looking one, think tall, dark and broad-shouldered, let's call him Checkers, offered to buy me a drink. I generally don't accept drinks from guys unless I'm interested in them, to do otherwise is just a bit mean. I gratefully accepted Checkers' offer of a drink though, who am I to turn down a great looking guy with a lovely accent offering me a drink? After he got the drink something weird happened though. Checkers spoke to me for another two minutes and then said that he had to go find his friends but that we should meet back at the bar in half an hour or so. I, being in a rather fragile state of self-doubt, took this to mean that he had just bought me a drink to be nice, and that he was now just running away, never to be seen again. I took it on the chin and went to find my mates, who were luckily just on the dance floor. We were having a grand time busting our moves on the dance floor and about twenty minutes later who should appear again but Checkers! Imagine my surprise! Anyhoo, we danced and then he pulled me aside, needing to tell me something important. He proceeded to tell me that he thought that I was gorgeous and beautiful, but that he was taken. I have to say, I've never been happier to learn that a hot guy has a girlfriend, because it meant that the reason he had taken off in the first place and hadn't since made a move wasn't that I was hideous, old-looking or desperate, but simply that he couldn't! We agreed to keep dancing though, and had a great time.
Then, something completely unexpected occurred, one of the boys from the cocktail bar showed up at the club! Let's call him Moose. I was so shocked when I saw Moose, and when he offered to buy me a drink I didn't really know what to say, as Checkers was standing right behind me. I ended up saying yes to a drink and Moose went off to get it. Luckily when he got back he hadn't been able to get me a drink as he had no cash and they wouldn't accept his card, because immediately after he arrived back to me Checkers and his friend started dancing around near us and Moose took this as an indication that he should go. I did feel really bad, but unfortunately England won the battle against Ireland last night (although Ireland do have a home-ground advantage and I expect they'll regroup in the next match and come out on top).
Checkers ended up walking me home and told me just as he left me near my door that he thought that I was, and I quote, 'the prettiest girl' he had ever seen, stated that he couldn't believe I didn't have a boyfriend, and that if he didn't have a girlfriend he would definitely have wanted to come inside (whether he would have been permitted is really a moot point).
So I guess the point is, self-flattery and moral issues surrounding Checkers' girlfriend (although nothing happened beyond some flirting) aside, last night made me realise that I am not going to be relegated to the back of the shelf, to be picked up by some dodgy guy who I settle for in spite of myself out of sheer terror of being alone, or not to be picked at all. Checkers and Moose made me realise that I am still attractive to good-looking young guys, and that I should definitely have the confidence to just throw myself back out there. And what better place to do it than Dublin, with all the black-haired, blue-eyed lads who make my heart skip several beats.
And, just like that, I'm back, baby, I'm back.
From 'The Prettiest Girl',
B. J. Barnes
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