Oh, what a weekend it's been. Although I have to say it's been a salutory experience - with my parents and an old friend of the male persuasion in town online dating has taken something of a backseat. It was Ponsonby and vodka on Friday night, closely followed by a trip to Waiheke with my dad, to meet a teacher of his that he hadn't seen in 50 years. I took a picture or three of them to send to the Southland Times and on the way home I talked with Daddums about Facebook and Peak Oil.
We agreed that cohorts don't really exist anymore - the idea of going to the same vocational course as a good proportion of people from your high school like Dad did would be very strange now - there are so many more options to navigate. And things like Facebook allow people to stay in touch in ways they couldn't before. Why wait 50 years to touch base? It's been something I've rather enjoyed of recent times, discovering people from the past I know who know each other in ways I never realised. How very New Zealand.
However I do sincerely fear that when peak oil hits the happy days of nice new computers and travel to the other side of the world will take a fairly severe hit, even if it isn't entirely permanent. I heartily recommend the doco Crude Awakening currently screening at Auckland's Academy Cinema. Basic premise: thanks to advanced industrial processes oil can be extracted insanely cheaply, we are almost wholly reliant on it for the energy required to transport anything, farm anything or manufacture anything and it's about to run out. Cue a vision of the world where we are earth-bound, hungry and gradually a lot less populous than before. And where our ICT dwindles in the face of the excessively high energy consumption required to develop and run it.
The optimists I know are convinced that technology will save us and they might be right, but it can't start doing that till it starts doing that and no one has begun the process yet.
On the dating front, my lack of a mate pales somewhat as an issue, but it's not something I'm ignoring. If you're wondering what happened re dates at the weekend, the first was interesting - a union researcher. We discussed logical positivism, peak oil (of course), post-structuralism and mental illness. He manged to plant one on me at the end of the date, on Queen St, in broad daylight no less, but I wouldn't rule him out entirely, except for a nagging feeling of "better as friends".
The second date was fine but not much in common and just not a terribly interesting conversation. A nice guy though. No surprises. Possibly what is surprising is that Mr not much chemistry has messaged me twice since last night, while Mr I'll try my luck hasn't messaged me at all. I'm never going to understand men. But then I'm prolly never going to understand myself either - possibly because of my predilection for touching base with Facebook friends, the person who most captured my attention this weekend was the boy from the past who I took out to Ponsonby for vodka. What a waste of perfectly good online potential. Still - there is something slightly irresistible about seeing someone for the first time in ages and realising that 1) they're hotter than before and 2) they're more like the guy you've always imagined yourself being with than most of the people you see daily. Can fix cars: check. Also knows what a codec is: check. Doesn't dress like someone from a magazine: check. Has a position on the political spectrum: check. Literate, literary and articulate: check. Makes stuff: check. And, when you text and say, "what's your landy, I feel like a chat", just calls your cellphone straight back. And, just to balance the whole mess out, lives in Wellington, has a disastrous track record with women and is sensibly suggesting he isn't ready for a relationship at this point in time. What would lassie do? Run home immediately, tail between legs, no doubt. Oh life is filled with amusing little ironies - of the Alanis Morrisette variety. I'm just a bogan chick with a degree secretly seeking a bogan boy with similar and it looks like a permanent malaise.