The Dumpling

Last night I was dumped in the worst possible way: by email, on national TV.

That sentence doesn't even really convey quite how acutely mortifying the whole situation was, since it omits other, vital, horror-inducing factors, such as:

1) The fact that I was surrounded at the time by 10 or so of my close friends, who had spent the last few hours shamelessly announcing to the BBC camera that they were 100% sure I was going through, because I had 'nailed it'.

2) The aforementioned camera was within a foot of my face and willing me to produce at least one or two tears for 'effect'.

3) My phone rang twice from a withheld number at the exact time that we had been told that the successful applicants would be notified. (Somehow, despite the fact that the whole evening was focused around my phone receiving one of the most important phone call of my life so far, I had managed to accidentally hang up on the first call, and been too busy visiting the wee wee shop for the second).

4) My friends seemed to have developed a new propensity for using the word 'f**k' in every sentence, especially during important moments of filming, so the whole scene is going to have to be bleeped out if it airs - not a good look.

Yes, the situation as a whole was pretty undesirable really, and the aftermath of the situation isn't looking much prettier.

I sit here in my friend's flat in my joggers (I must've subconsciously packed them in anticipation of this exact scenario). Remnants of last night's party are strewn around me, and the only amusement I'm managing to find in life right now, is realising how accurate my comparison of this whole situation to a relationship really was.

For a month now I've been in such an intense whirlwind romance with Tourism Queensland that it was only ever going to end in tears (my tears, unfortunately). QT had all the power from day one and I gave up everything in a desperate attempt to secure a future for us together and daydreamed about what could be. One short, impersonal email later, followed by a phone call from a receptionist, and it was all over. I'd been used. One month of free PR and QT got it's friend to make the call. Gutted.

So this is phase one of the break up blues I guess. Lying on the sofa while my friends bring me tea and biscuits to 'cheer me up' and give me reassuring shoulder squeezes, telling me it's going to be ok. I don't believe them yet of course. Right now it's taking all my will power to stop myself from calling to find out where it all went wrong or looking at QT's webpage to stalk it's new loves. "Don't worry, there are plenty more fish in the sea, you just need to get yourself fishing again", my best friend Michelle says, stroking my unwashed hair and giving me her best 'I understand your pain' look.

She's right. QT may have been a good catch, but there are plenty more fish in the sea and they don't all live in the Great Barrier Reef. There are 194 other countries out there for me to explore and I'm certain I will go on to find another job that a really love. I'm gonna keep my chin up, be grateful for the time we did spend together and look back on this chapter of my life with fond memories. I've learnt a lot through this relationship and I will take that with me as I look for my next adventure.

Also, on the plus side, Ben (a fellow Brit) did manage to get himself selected and I'm delighted for him. I think he'll do a bloody good job and I sincerely hope he goes on to win it. I wish him all the best. For now though, I'm off to call Holly (who also got dumped) for a good chat about our lost love. I'll get over it - I just need a bit of closure.

What's so great about the Great Barrier Reef anyway? I went there for 2 weeks and it rained the whole time ;)