Friendzone

So somehow, my jet lag has taken a turn for the worst again. It’s been fine for the last couple of days, but today I was up at 5.30. Not cool. Unable to sleep, I went downstairs and put on the TV. Not fancying cartoons today, I flicked over to MTV where I then went on to watch half an hour of the worst television I have had the misfortune of seeing in a while – and I watched a few episodes of celebrity Big Brother.

It was called Friendzone. And it was terrible.

From what I picked up, it was about desperate guys who had been stuck in the ‘friendzone’ for a number of years with a girl. For clarity, I’ll define the friendzone – when a girl or guy gets stuck ‘being friends’ with a member of the opposite (or same, depending on your sexual preference) sex that they really like. The ‘friendzoned’ party wants to be more than just friends, whereas 9 times out of 10, the other person does not.

Which is why I think that this as an abominable concept for a programme. Has anybody that you’d consider just a friend (and REALLY wanted to keep that way) declared their undying love to you? If yes, you know how awkward that can be. If no… well, it’s pretty awkward. Add a few cameras, witnesses and oh, you know, MTV’s entire viewing audience and BAM, you’ve created a living hell for your poor crush.

I personally sympathised with the crush. I know you’re supposed to be rooting for the guy confessing his love, but I found it too hard. There’s just something intensely irritating about these guys. Maybe it’s the knowledge that in all their desperation, they’ve taken to the TV to discuss what probably should be kept as a fairly private issue. Maybe it’s their unwillingness to accept that they might actually be the problem. Or maybe it’s just the annoyingly smitten look in their eyes and the constant fawning over these women who would probably just like to be left the hell alone.

I have no idea what they hoped to achieve by putting themselves out there like that in front of millions. My guess is that they either think their crush will see it as some huge romantic gesture and fall hopelessly in love with them for their efforts and they will ride off into the sunset on horseback to live happily ever after, or to shame them into saying “yes, I’ll go on this date with you” since they’re literally in front of a huge chunk of the population and the ask-ee will look bad for turning the asker down.

Now, I do believe it could be the former of the two cause these guys genuinely seemed to live in a weird fantasy land. And I hope for the poor girls’ sakes it was that. Cause the alternative is pretty bloody horrible. Pressuring someone to go out with you is not OK. Don’t do it. Ever. One of the poor women that I saw looked like she was trying hard to mask her horror at being put on the spot like that. She agreed to go, but she seemed genuinely reluctant and a bit pissed off. She did a piece to camera at the end, and while she was saying all the right things, she had dead eyes. You know, the kind of eyes that say “I am not here and saying these things by choice”.

As the guy, I don’t understand why, if you cared that much, you need the entire world to see. A relationship is between two people. Not two people, a producer, a cameraman, and the entire western world. They could have done the exact same thing without the rest of the people I just listed in the equation.

Generally speaking, I think the friendzone exists¬†for a reason. And no, that reason is not “for a challenge”. If you’re in the friendzone, chances are you were probably put there on purpose on god damn it! I think most people have probably been on both sides of the fence. OK, being on somebody’s hook is never fun. But trying to be friends with someone who you know wants more than that isn’t fun either. And if they keep persisting and trying to wear you down, it actually makes it a damn sight harder to keep being friends with them in the knowledge that they might suddenly explode into a quivering heap of confessions and love songs and flowers and other mushy crap.

The more I watched on in horror, the more I was shaking my head and thinking “come on man, pull yourself together! Have some freakin’ pride!”
It got pretty hard to watch. Especially when the girl subtly hinted that she wasn’t looking for anything at that point in time when asked by the boy what her view on relationships was, making the excuse of “I have to focus on my career”. That’s fair, I thought. Cut to a clip of him saying “maybe she’s just saying that she’s not interested in relationships cause she doesn’t know it’s me…”
JUST NO. She was probably saying that BECAUSE she knew it was you! Why can’t you get the hint?! Stop ignoring the hint! You’re making it so much more awkward! You need the hint, need it I tell you!
Why can’t you just accept what she’s saying? She doesn’t want to be in a relationship. Not with you, not with anyone. Ok, yes it might just be an excuse. But if that’s what she’s telling you, can you not just go with it? Please?! Maybe you just aren’t what she’s looking for. And this could be for a number of reasons. (Possibly not least because you are kind of needy and annoying and overly persistent).

You could argue “hey Zoe? Don’t these guys at least deserve an explanation?”. I can kind of understand that they might want that. But often the hard truth is that she simply doesn’t like you. But you can’t just tell somebody that, not when they’re at obsession level: crazy. And yes, going on TV to declare your love for someone is pretty crazy if you ask me. To make it less awkward for everyone, ignoring it and hoping that they pick up on what you’re doing just seems like the polite thing to do. If your crush is throwing around hints such as “oh, you’re such a good friend” or “you’re like a brother/sister to me”, it’s probably not that they haven’t noticed that you like them. It’s probably that they’re trying to warn you off without actually having the conversation because the conversation is unpleasant as hell. The person on the receiving end feels rejected and heartbroken, the one doing the rejecting and heartbreaking feels like a bastard. See, this is why confrontation on such issues is bad.

And that, guys, is what I deduced from today’s early morning viewing. Call me harsh, but…

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no psychology expert or relationship adviser (obviously), these are just my personal opinions on the matter! Feel free to share your own views ūüôā

Z. x

Off to see the wonderful wizard of Oz

Anybody that has read my Twitter bio will know that I describe myself as a cunctator.
A few people have asked me what that means. In the least prattishly condescending way possible, I’d like to tell those people that Google is your friend.¬†

But in case you and Google aren’t on good terms right now, let me give you an example. It pretty much sums up why I describe myself in such a way.

I’m flying to Australia for the Australian Youth Olympic Festival tonight. My taxi is coming at 5. It’s now 1.30pm. I still have a LOT of packing to do. So naturally, I am sitting on my bed, in my underwear blogging about how I have so much to do and intermittently looking at pictures of cats on Reddit.¬†
Yes I am aware that the case will not pack itself, as much as I would like it to. Yes I am aware that time is running out. But why do now what I could do later? 

I’m basically writing this blog for two reasons. The primary reason is because I need something else to occupy the time in which I could be packing. Secondly, because I feel like I should tell people that I’m competing. I’m not sure whether anyone gives a toss, but I thought I’d tell you anyway, just in case some of you do. (Please give a toss).

I’m lifting in the middle of the afternoon (Sydney time) on Friday the 18th of January. So in less than a week.

I went up to Leeds last week to get my last bit of training in. Why is it that it’s only when you’re training under the supervision of the head coach and some of your teammates, just over a week away from competing, that it becomes apparent how unfit you are? My legs felt like they were going to physically fall off. I managed to work my way up to about 90% of where I was before the Olympics, the peak of my physical fitness. Weights that would have flown up 6 months ago now felt like they could literally kill me. Well, I suppose they could. And they might.¬†

After that session, our coach announced to me that they would be my opening lifts.

HOLY. BALLS. 

I am quite genuinely hoping for a miracle. Please GOD let nobody else turn up in my category. In fact, let nobody else turn up for weightlifting at all. I don’t want them to see me like this.

Yes this is nobody’s fault other than my own for delaying the hard work as long as I have. I am now mentally screaming at myself “for God’s SAKE, Zoe, stop being such a flipping cunctator!!”¬†
Normally these things work out for me, somehow. I don’t know how. But it’s never landed me in any real predicament just yet. So I’ve got to the bargaining point of desperation – “please please PLEASE just let this work out for me, I know I’m an idiot but I promise I’ll never procrastinate again EVER as long as this just goes reasonably OK for me, please!”¬†

I’ll let you know in a week if my prayers were answered.¬†

In the mean time, I have 21 hours at 30,000 feet to contend with. A whole day of travelling. I find it really weird that you lose a whole day. I feel like I’m being robbed of some life.¬†

I also know practically no one else going. I certainly won’t know anybody on the flight out there other than my coach. It’s not that he and I don’t get on… It’s more that we don’t really speak. In my experience, he sits there doing important stuff on his laptop and reading/answering emails. That’s fair. However, what am I supposed to do?! I’d be fine if I just knew one person that I’m travelling with reasonably well. They could help get me through this nightmare.
I imagine I’ve mentioned how socially awkward I can be. Well, that would be ‘hugely’. Once I’m in conversation with somebody that I’m 100% sure doesn’t hate me, I’m fine. But introducing myself to people who¬†MIGHT¬†hate me is just not my cup of tea at all. For the record, no, I’m not a massive bitch in real life and they probably don’t really have any reason to instantly hate me. But they could.

So, it’s either come across as an asshole who won’t speak to anyone and sit on the plane sobbing inwardly to myself about how lonely I am, or nervously approach people who might very well hate me and struggle to think of a good topic of conversation while sobbing inwardly to myself about how badly this is going for me. Either way, the whole journey will be one big awkward cringe-and-sob-fest for me. Welcome to my personal hell.¬†

Right, I’ve been blogging for almost half an hour. I really¬†must¬†start packing. Well, should. I imagine I’ll find something else that needs taking care of during the 9ft walk from my bed to my suitcase. Hopefully.¬†

See you on the other side, guys. Or maybe when I’m back on this side, depending on how much cunctating I feel like doing. Really must stop doing that.

Z. x