Saturday, 31 May 2014

Throw the die...

The thing about the Isle of Wight, right. Well, the thing is, 70% of it is very beautiful and then 20% of it is very dull and 10% of it you just wouldn't set foot in. Unless you were some form of inbred freak - you've seen The Hills Have Eyes, right? Well, yeah. That. But with cockney accents and a thousand yard stare that'd scare the bejesus out of you.

It's half feral and half rich feckers who only come here during the summer. I work in a bar in a sailing village. Didn't know that sailing villages existed? No, nor me. Turns out that they are dead as Rosyton Vasey on a wet Sunday afternoon for most of the year and then suddenly SWARMING with 4x4s, personalised number plates and people who are so freaking posh they struggle to squeeze actual words through the plums in their mouths.

They all own boats or yachts or whatever and they're clogging up the streets full pelt until suddenly, it's over. And they're gone again. Tumbleweed is the only ting to be seen throughout the village. Tumbleweed and the odd old person staggering around, zombie like and confused.

The island comes 'alive' in the summer. If, by alive, you count endless holidaymakers and so very very many children. Children EVERYWHERE. They're in the sea, they're in the road, they're in the shops, they're in the cafes, they're in the bars (how and when did this become a thing?), they're in front of your car, they're in your pool, they're E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E.

So, for a single gal about town. OK, a single, pushing 40, getting slightly hysterical at the thought of never meeting anyone ever again, gal about town, it's probably not the most intelligent place to move to is it?

My rationale - such as it was - was that it's very beautiful (it is), I want to live by the sea (I like that), my dog will like it (she does, although, to be fair, she can take or leave the whole beach and sea thing), and that there's bound to be some single men on the island, around my age range and who might be into similar things to me (basically books, reading and talking, I mean, it's not THAT weird). I didn't realise I would feel so profoundly isolated.

When I moved to York, not knowing anyone at all, I was pretty lonely. OK, extremely lonely, for a while. And then, because it's a city with people in it, I met some. And then I met some more. And it all started to get better.

But down here... I just don't see that happening. I guess you don't have to be a genius to work out that moving to an island you can drive across in half an hour isn't the best way to widen your dating pool. Particularly when you're in the extremely shady category of never married spinster. I mean, it's just not going to make things any easier.

Life, of course, isn't all about relationships. I know because I haven't had one since 2009. So, yeah. I get that. There's loads of other things to do. But I just want to do it WITH someone for a bit. I am so over being single. I'm done with it. I'm bored by it. God knows my friends are bored with it. Because I keep talking about it. It's an elephant in the room that follows me around yelling: YOU'RE UNLOVABLE and WEIRD and YOU CAN'T FIND A BOYFRIEND. I'm the only one who can hear the elephant. I mean, I hope so. That could be awks.

Anyway, my point, right. My point is, I cannot keep stumbling from one ill informed decision to another. I need to make the Right Decision next time. I need to choose the Right Place and do the Right Thing. My methods for decision making haven't really stood me in good stead up till now.

I need to decide where to move to, when to move there and how I will support myself in doing so. These are the things I need to decide. I have made lists and I have asked opinions and I have written down what I want out of my life. I have done all that and still all I can see is a forest full of fucking trees and no clear path.

So I thought I'd try Luke Reinhardt's way next. I'm going to roll some dice and do what they tell me. If you've read The Dice Man, you'll know that it just can't possibly go wrong...



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