Flowers. Giggle-filled hours lost over shared dessert pizzas. Time slows down just enough for you both to wallow in each other’s morning flames. Gazes held for infinity, until your cheeks set on fire and your heart threatens to escape out through your eyeballs. Typical falling for someone story, amirite? Not for me. Briefly enter my […]


Big Man busted up my heart. It hit me unexpectedly hard. I knew on some level it was coming, so I prepared myself for the pain. Except that I truly didn’t.


I’m scared. I am  learning to love again. That sounds really icky and cliché. It’s probably a cliché for a reason. It’s actually terrifying to throw your hands in the air and say ‘fuck it’, here’s my heart’. It’s a fragile little ball of crystal glass and I’m just ever so gingerly going to place […]

Insecurity: the Worst Kind of Illness

I’m sick. And I don’t just mean that in a ‘I’m a sicko pervert’ kinda way. I have this illness which permeates my mind and rules my life. I am insecure. Terrifyingly so.

It’s like I woke up one morning and decided that I was just going to be embarrassingly insecure from now on. It was unexpected and uncharacteristic. I’m anxious and I’m separating from what I know to be my real self. I know where I’m supposed to be in terms of my thoughts, I just don’t know how to get back there.

I’m convinced that my boyfriend is flirting with girls on Twitter. Do I have evidence? Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I need evidence when my wildly wobbly mind is telling me so?

You know what he does when I verbalise my insecurities? Silence. So that works really well for my already perturbed thought patterns. You can only imagine how much I’ve convinced myself that he doesn’t care.

Should he abate my fears? Some would say, hell yes, some would say ‘work out your own damn shit Ruby’. At the very least he shouldn’t ignore me, right?

Sometimes he can ignore me for a whole day and because sometimes I can be a tad normal, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. Once, I decided to see how long it would take him to initiate contact. He didn’t text me for three whole days. This was the man who spent six whole days with me for our third date.

I dunno, in my mind a relationship isn’t something where you get ignored a lot. But how do I know whether I’m getting ignored or my expectations are just too damn high? I don’t and that is my daily battle and so I get to hate and blame myself just a little bit more.

If we look at the theory of confirmation bias, I can easily use his behaviour to confirm all those unsettling niggling beliefs, beliefs that ‘I don’t deserve to be in a relationship that lasts’, ‘all men are unfaithful’ and of course, the all permeating one, ‘I am unloveable’.

I need your help internet – how do people quell their insecurities enough to have a relationship where your partner doesn’t spend most of their life avoiding you?

And he is somewhat innocent in all this, even if he is mucking up behind my back (although he’s hardly the type) or flirting with girls on social media or plotting to break up with me and shack up with some roller derby looking thing who knows how to do pin curls and quotes Proust, there’s not really much I can do about that. I can choose to torture myself with thoughts or I can choose not to. I know which one feels better.

‘Your own enemy cannot harm you as much as your own unguarded thoughts’ – Buddha.

Plus Two

You’ve heard me mention The Boyf, right? (AKA: The Big Man. Well, cos… he’s tall? Kidding. He’s hung like a fucking ox. The man is so huge it makes me weep sweet, sweet pleasure filled tears.) The dear, patient, loving thing. He’s great. We’re great. I’m mental. Usual story. Well… fairy

A New Life

Our third date was ludicrous. It lasted six days.

The Unresolved Resolve

Sometimes, a frog doesn’t turn into a prince. Sometimes, the frog doesn’t even let you kiss it.

In this post I share the wisdom I have learnt from the time I started this blog and that there is always, ALWAYS a hidden path…

Guide to Being a Scarlet Woman

One of my goals this year was to have an article published for The Hoopla.

Within three weeks of deciding on that goal, it came true. And here it is:

Click here for scarlety goodness.

Next up… Jezebel.

Is The Internet God?

Ctrl, Alt and Del that shit!

What if the internet was the Universe? Find out how I came to the conclusion that the internet actually is God:

When it was my birthday recently, I received a package in the mail – something I had ordered online had arrived.

My mum saw it and jokingly said, ‘awww the internet sent you a birthday present’. She’s quasi funny for such a little lady. That snowballed my thoughts from ‘the internet is an entity’ to ‘the internet is God’! Seamless connection, obviously.

What if the internet was my Universe? And not just in the sense that it’s my Universe because I spend every flipping second on it. But what if it was my Divine? You may like to choose to call it God. You might also like to choose to call it cybery goodness.

Reverting back to my Western Philosophy classes (man, how I love-hated them) if we use Liebniz’s Law we can arrive at the conclusion, that the Internet, is in fact, God.

What’s this Liebniz shit, you say?

It’s a metaphysical principle that states if something has all the properties of something then it must be something. Clear as mud, right? See now why I had to sleep with most of my uni lecturers?

So if an object has all the same properties of an apple (it’s green, it’s juicy, it has an apple taste etc) then it must be an apple.

Similarly, if the internet has all the properties of a monotheistic God then it must be a monotheistic God. YOU HEARD.

Properties of God vs internet:

Omniscience (check) that internet shit is fucking EVERYWHERE. It’s in your phone, your workplace, your dreams and with at least 9.5 billion webpages indexed on Google alone that bitch is ALL OVER shit.

Omnipresent (check) the internet never stops working, it’s ALWAYS THERE. Now that WiFi is a thing, it can pretty much be accessed from every acre of the earth. Except mid afternoon in my office apparently.

Omnipotent (check) it has incredible power. Remember recently when Charlotte Dawson copped it from every corner of the internet? Remember when Anonymous started hacking the life out of everything:

And lives are saved. And more lives are saved.

Also, internet dating. If that’s not powerful, I don’t know what is. Amirite?

I know of two couples recently who have met online and are in all kinds of besottedness. And I swear, you couldn’t even make this shit up but each set of lovers discovered they live on the same street. I’ve been door knocking up and down my street ever since I’ve heard.

Omnibenevolent (check okay uncheck no, wait check)

We can see from Charlotte’s experience that it’s not infinitely good. But we’ve already discovered via the problem of evil that no such omnibenevolent God exists. I would like to think that the internet, like God, doesn’t label things with good nor bad nor ‘going viral worthy’ or ‘Facebook Like’ worthy and thus the internet is God. Follow me? No. Don’t worry about it, just Google it or some shit. Although ironically, Google’s company policy states you can ‘make money without doing evil’ http://www.google.com/about/company/philosophy/ (see point six)

Other substantiation:

You can pray to her:


NB: So I thought I would test this out in the nature of research. I submitted my prayer and BAMM they asked me for money so that God would grant me my prayer. The fuck? They have been consistently spamming me with emails ever since demanding that I don’t ‘let Satan into my home.’ Quite freaked out now, so praps don’t try this at home kids.

It’s fairly immortal. We couldn’t’ destroy that shit if we tried. Zuckerberg might be able to though.

It’s also source of comfort, information, guidance, inspiration, devotion and a place to share. And if you’re like me you spend more time interacting with it than you do with other people, or even yourself.

Also, you guys, YOU GUYS, the internet has some really cool videos of cats. Not sure if you’ve seen any yet or not.

Generation Whinge

Smartness is happening

Generation bashing: another one of my loathed persecutions (alongside denigrating people for their sexual preference, their gender and their weight).

This week I was inactively part of a conversation with a group of people from a different generation to me. One person took it upon themselves to verbally bash Gen Ys about their inconsistencies in their communication – their apparent lack of consonants in speech and in writing etc etc. You’ve heard it all before…