Que sera sera

Today/tonight/this morning (I can't decide what to choose - it's 1.17 in the morning), I've decided to tackle an issue that seems to have become quite pertinent in my life recently (a dramatic statement, I know).

As we speak/as I write/as you read, I am in the midst of a discussion with a friend of mine about chance and fate.

At 1.17 in the morning? you ask.

I will rebut the question I just posed on your behalf by saying that, now, of all times, is the time to delve deep into issues such as these. 

And so, I pose this question: is it better to make things happen in life (forge your own fate even), or to let things happen?

The more I learn about relationships, the more I realise they are so very much based upon games to the point of absurdity.

We wait until we have seen a person a certain number of times before adding them on Facebook, then we wait days, maybe a week, until it's okay to actually speak via this media. Then we take turns making moves (it's a bloody game of chess, I tell you - and yes, I did just get all Aussie, please accept it), and so we wait a week or two at a time, playing this game, and always retaining this aura of nonchalance; we love to project this idea that the other person is a mere afterthought, and we have so many other better things to do and other people to talk to that they are of less significance. We heighten our own significance and appear unattainable and thus (hopefully) more attractive in the other person's eyes.

The fact is, the more I discuss these things with others, the more it seems that it's the waiting around for the other person to make a move (and, let me tell you, a like on Facebook is absolutely not a 'move', let me be clear) is the most (although crucial) nerve-wracking and torturous part of this 'game'.

Will they reply?

Did I say something ridiculous?

Tell me they didn't detect that spelling error I just noticed from re-reading what I said and now it's too late to correct myself because they'll see I'm re-reading our conversation oh no oh no.

Which often leads one to think whether it might be better to just make things happen yourself; why wait around when you can just take the bull by the horns and actually do something, make something happen, forge your own fate and so on.

Then, of course, comes the issue of appearing foolish if and when nothing comes out of it, and slowly stepping away and cringing at your own behaviour.

How could I have been so foolish?!

How embarrassing!

I can never go to uni where they may see me again!

Etc.

I think, after much thought and consideration, I have come to the conclusion that, even though it's important to play a part in your own future/fate etc, sometimes it's best to just let nature take its course. Whatever's meant to be will be, and, after all, it's better than appearing foolish if you've tried a little too hard to make things happen and it's merely backfired (goodness, no one likes daily, needy texts from someone you've known for under a year, let me tell you).

Yep.

I'm still just sitting here waiting, waiting, waiting, playing this stupid game.

But if it works, it works.

Que sera sera, I guess.

Back off mate (I ain't your girl)

Now, in other life lessons from Sarah...

It is hard enough navigating the roads of friendly relationships between girls and boys. It's even harder to navigate these roads when the friendship becomes a relationship or a sort-of-relationship or could-be-relationship or there's potential or whatever. But there is something that makes this almighty difficulty an immense challenge, and it has recently come to my attention, and thus I feel the need to address it.

When a friend's boyfriend is a little over-friendly - not in an I'm-interested-in-you kind of way but more I'm-affectionate-and-like-holding-hands way -  I can't help but wonder: what does one do? What would Carrie do?

Probably cheat on her own boyfriend.

Wait.

That escalated.

How?

What?

Anyway.

Let's leave Carrie out of this.

This issue has come to my attention through a number of sources who have each expressed the woes of over-friendly-boyfriends-who-aren't-actually-their-boyfriends-but-their-friends'-boyfriends.

Has this become an epidemic of sorts? Why is this something that we are finding more often? Please don't take the Spice Girls seriously boys. If you wanna be my lover, please don't get with my friends.

And now, the almighty question: can men and women be friends?

When Harry Met Sally taught us: no, probably not. Will probably end up married.

Now you're probably thinking, "Oh, goodness. Don't tell me I'm going to marry one of those guys".

Don't be alarmed.

Accept it. Embrace it. You probably will.

But, in all seriousness, is this an issue that should alarm us? Should we do something about this? Or should we just accept affection in this cold, harsh, materialistic world?

Am I too bitter? No faith in humanity? I'll tone it down.

So, as I sip my tea in front of my laptop, I now realise that I've come to no conclusion. My so-called 'wisdom' has provided nothing but a commentary or overview of sorts of the over-affection that one might encounter and that we seem to be encountering more and more often from the people we don't expect to receive it from.

Sure, I'm concerned.

But, maybe we should just cross that bridge when we get to it.

Sarah.

Rejection: that's life, boys.

I won't lie to you: it's always been a dream of mine to write a Carrie-esque blog entry, or a relationship-related column in a newspaper or magazine, and I think I've finally found the chance. Goodness knows I kind of want to be Carrie - just a little bit.

Mainly for the whole sitting around in my underwear with a cigarette in hand in front of my computer, gazing out the window murmuring "and I couldn't help but wonder..." (what a romanticised vision, I know).

Sitting at our usual spot at uni today with the usual Monday morning gals - tea in hand, of course - our conversation turned, as it almost always does, to the ridiculous stupidity and strangeness that one might encounter during nearly any interaction with the male 'species' - and I say species, because boys in general really do seem to be a part of a whole other type of human being.

Ah, yes. This species of mankind does often seem to be depicted by us ladies as subjecting us to its incomprehensible behaviour and constantly breaking hearts.

Yet, it was Marina who taught us how to be heartbreakers.

Sitting with the girls we reflected upon the harshness of rejection. And I couldn't help but wonder: is a girl a heartbreaker just because she rejects someone whom she was friendly with over a number of weeks? And by friendly, I mean texting often and having coffee together? Surely you couldn't possibly owe another person anything if only after a mere few weeks? Yet, if I were the one being rejected, would I feel like I merited some sort of explanation?

Could we even call rejection a type of character building, or is this simply a way out of feeling the guilt of rejecting someone?

It's easy, of course, for me to say rejection is a type of character-building, but rejection is, after all, a part of life. Maybe we should all take a leaf out of Marina's book, and feel the full force of feminine power and strength that she seems to advocate in her anthem.

To be continued...

Sarah