Tag Archives: love

Funny Girl

I seem to be making all sorts of life connections with movies this week. My productivity levels regarding university work are utterly out the window, only this time because I can’t stop singing the soundtrack of the Barbara Streisand hit “Funny Girl”. As an appendage to my account of Tinderella throwing off both glass slippers at the ball and running out the door, I contemplate if being a funny girl really does make”life candy and the sun a ball of butter”. Well Babs, I can’t decide if my parade is being rained all over (maybe someone will get the reference- please?) or if I’m okay with the kinda persona I seem to have picked up among certain circles. How does life in practice as the funny girl play out?

If you’ve ever seen the movie, great-it’s wonderful. If not- watch it, it’ll change your life.

A young Fanny Brice (yes Fanny, before it picked up all those lurid connotations) falls in love with Nicky Arnstein. She’s feisty and  an absolute hoot who charms Nicky with her humour and brazen attitude to life. We follow her journey as she ascends from chorus girl to Broadway star. She’s certainly not a girl’s girl. She’s rough around the edges and everything she does is hysterical in some way, intentional or otherwise. I’m not the melodic diva she is nor half as attractive,but watching it I felt a lot of similarities in how I’m perceived in terms of relationships and my social life. I’ve been told on numerous occasions, “Nicole, you know what. You make me laugh when you don’t even mean to be funny” by my ladies. And from the male compadres (of a romantic nature) “Nicole, there’s no one quite like you”. And although this would seem a welcome compliment , I know that it’s a synonym for hysterical really. I’ve learnt this over time.

At first in all this I was glad someone thought I was funny. I finally had a word that could be attached officially to a description of “me”. With friends, it makes you feel secure in knowing they’ll always keep you for comedic factor, and in some capacity you’re not readily replaceable. In day-to-day life, it can be a little frustrating. The moments in class discussion where you come out with what you think is a fairly insignificant one liner, and everyone laughs. You think to yourself, am I failing to observe some basic rules of social etiquette that everyone else is in on? Am I just really funny? Do I look funny? Is something on my face? And when you move beyond situations where you’re just dying to be taken seriously like a discussion on politics (funnily enough a prerequisite for participation in my degree) you hit a totally new set of frustrations in relationships.

When you have a talent to present a constant lax attitude to life’s trials and tribulations (whilst harbouring the secret/or not so secret if you know me, that your mind runs at a 100mph), combined with an innate ability to make most grim scenarios light hearted, you’ll know when you try to express how mad you are it rarely is communicated. Especially to a partner in which you’ll get a variation of responses. “You’re so cute when you’re mad” or failing that…they’ll merely laugh. It really is a double edged sword being the “funny” one.

But for now if i’m keeping everyone entertained, much to my class debating detriment, I’m okay with being the funny girl.




Thibault, 21

“21 year old city worker. Love to travel and looking for fun. Are you my #tinderella?”

Well… Thibault, I feel that’s pretty unlikely. For one, the likelihood is if you’re in anyway attractive you’ll have the charisma of a gnat and a conversation ability making someone feel similar to sitting across from an eating Ed Miliband at a fast food restaurant. If on the other end of the spectrum you’re a pretty unassuming fellow you might progress through conversation in a normal manner until you hit the third date, send a spooky facebook relationship request and post a picture of you and me at Nandos, claiming you’re with “Bae”. Whilst these are huge generalisations, they are the norm I have came across in my unfortunate escapades throughout the Tinder wilderness.

This will actually be the first Carrie Bradshaw-esque blog, ever. And I regret the fact it’s come to this as I claimed I would never fall into the trap of being a self-indulgent blogger who starts an article with something like..

“I looked out the window, onto the busy winding roads of London, my scented yankee candle flickering in the backdrop. He hadn’t called..”

However, having just hooked myself up once more to the dating life support machine that is tinder I am just astounded at the situations I have faced, and the utter disrespect and disloyalty of a hopefully minute proportion of the male population. At first I thought oh it must be only those that are a little socially challenged, or failing that really very frustrated in their lower regions,coming out of this worm-riddled wood work. However, much to my dismay after gross message after gross message I discovered the multitude were made from singularities ranging from high fliers with money perhaps just not time to meet people to.. you know what I mean, to those with too much time and clearly spent an awful lot of time in bed (it was irrespective if they had money or not…) and on top of that a mixture of everyone in between. Some nice, some odd, some crude or crass. But no, it was not just the “weird” that I had assumed made up those coming out to “rep” the male community of London in a largely vile manner, but a mix of everyone from your banker to your barman. Naturally after numerous disaster dates I was feeling a little dismayed, hoping this wasn’t what I faced for the rest of my relationship seeking life. Given that I had only ever went on tinder to put myself back out there, and if anything indulge in the trend almost everyone was doing, I don’t write this with a heavy heart. I feel I can laugh about it all.

Post-coming out of quite an…interesting tinder relationship (massively short lived) the whole occasion conveyed to me that there is most definitely a gap in the natural magnetism when first contact is made remotely and at distance, finding the spark was on a scale of strange to non existent… I found there was something like a sense of audio delay, the lip sync didn’t match the sound just like the typing of keys didn’t match the actual physical reality of growing to know someone, there and then. It also made me make up a little list of tick boxes when I swiped and spoke to “matches” which only recently I realised was created only relative to the types I had encountered through poor misfortune (the gross, the bad and the ..worse) and not within my usual bounds of judgement. I found myself not engaging in that every day filter, of what I knew was right and wasn’t right for me, when on this really odd app (when you think about the concept).

Basically, after a multitude of dates with those with dishonest intentions, their own demons they were seeking to rebound from and those who just didn’t realise i’d come wearing 4 inch boots making me a whole foot taller than them, it’s time to call it quits. I’m not saying there isn’t lovely or genuine people on tinder. There are, and the people I’ve known have been lovely (most) in their own ways, or clearly just very misguided but I hold hope that the behaviour exhibited is hopefully an opportunity to hide behind a surnameless screen and keyboard. Nonetheless, I just think the whole experience was a reality check. I guess the message for me, and others, is if there are genuine and lovely men on tinder…meet these genuine, and lovely people, on the street, when you bump into them in a bar or catch eyes when you’re reaching for the same book at Waterstones? It may be a little idealistic, but the whole while something told me

it doesn’t happen like this, girl. 

On the other hand, tell me if I’m wrong… Could love at first swipe, be love at first sight?