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How To Get Your Groove Back…

10 Oct

 

ParisIf you are single, reading this, and wondering if there are any decent men alive and single,  I have some advice for you.  Get the hell out of Nova Scotia, Canada, or North America for that matter.  I am just back from a fantastic vacation which took place across The Pond.  The Pond being The Atlantic Ocean.  I made the trip with my brilliant (and also single friend) Colette  – pictured with me in a very classy wine induced bathroom selfie.  I’ve visited Europe many times before, but at this age, this stage, and with a fantastic single friend – it was especially awesome.

As a woman in 2018 I am able to achieve just about anything I put my mind to.  Jobs, travel, adventures.  You name it.  A few years ago, I  spontaneously decided to climb Mt Kilimanjaro – the highest walkable mountain in the world.  I climbed that mountain.  I decided to run a half marathon.  I ran it.  Organize a big gala that raised loads of money.  No problem.  Meet a man who is an equal.  That is harder than running a half marathon to the base of Mt Kilimanjaro and planning the event while on top of the mountain with no connection to the world.  Over and over again, I hear myself (and my gfs) saying WTF when it comes to dating.

Halifax is an amazing city to live in.  Strong sense of community, beautiful landscape, no commute, friendly people, great restaurants, but what no tourist package or single woman in her 30’s living here will ever say – dating in Halifax is as good as the views.  There is a plethora of young ones and lots of old ones, but not much in the middle.  This phenomenon of wonderful women finding it hard to meet an equal spreads beyond the Nova Scotia border.  I was discussing dating with my co-worker in Toronto who is a smart, confident and funny single gal.    Big city.  Lots of options.  Her dating experiences have caused her to slot men into two categories:

  1. Completely afraid of an independent woman, who can take care of herself, speak her mind and won’t be all doe eyed for the rest of her life
  2. Emotionally unavailable and don’t know how to be a decent human being or reciprocate any sort of relationship behaviour.

There is a dating app called Bumble.  For those non-singletons reading this:  if you both swipe right you match, once you match the woman has 24 hours to write and once you write, the man has 24 hours to respond.  If the woman doesn’t write the man or the man doesn’t write back the match expires in 24 hrs.  Poof!  Mr. Wonderful is gone.  The idea being that you take it a bit more serious than say –  Tinder – where people just collect matches, but don’t write each other.  Bumble in Halifax is what I would describe as ‘scarcity of talent’.  How far am I willing to veer off what I am actually looking for?  How little am I actually willing to accept?  How bored would I be?  Almost every date I have gone on in the last year has been with someone who was visiting or here for work.  They stand out, however, they are only here for a short period of time.  I am telling you – it gets discouraging.

This is where things change folks.  This is where the normally positive, can’t be beaten down, always sees possibility Emilie comes back.  Last week , the afore mentioned friend and I jumped on a flight for a little Wanderlust – Paris and then Munich for Octoberfest.  We flew all night, went to our Air-Bnb, had a nap, got freshened up and made our way out into the streets of Paris.  We literally came out of the gate to see this masculine creature walking towards us.  I looked at him.  He looked at me.  “Bonjour” he said.  And in return Mousier.  We walk a little further where we sat down to have a cappuccino at a café.  Chairs face outward to the street.  Over the next hour Colette and I were like roosters – we didn’t know where to point our peckers.  Men. Men. Men.  They were coming from every direction.  It continued on, everywhere we went – doors were held open, eye contact made, compliments given, conversation.  Oh la la.   After a scrumptious dinner on our second night, we were still hungry for something more.  We stood contemplating our next move outside of the restaurant when the seas parted and we found two handsome guys walking towards us.  I ripped out my boldness (I was wearing a feather dress so I was feeling rather saucy) and said ‘Parlez vous Anglais?’  To which they replied – yes.   Some funny back and forth took place in the street.  We then decided to make our way to a Cuban Bar together.   After a few mojitos and dancing to very Cuban Michael Jackson music – one of the gentleman had fallen in love with Colette, so we set off on an adventure.   Eiffel Tower and Uber rides with blasting country music to parts unknown in search of fun.  We got home at 5 am.    The next day when we awoke around noon, we decided to take a look at Bumble (the afore mentioned dating app).   My jaw is still sore from dropping.  The men on there were amazing.  One after another.  Gorgeous, interesting, well travelled.  Match. Match. Match. Match.  The two of us were in fits of laughter – Henri, Louis, Lucien, Alexandre.  We wrote a few.  And they wrote back.  Imagine that!  At home, even guys who you aren’t really even interested in don’t write back.  I had a cheeky back and forth with an Italian architect.  We decided to meet for a drink later on.  I found myself across from this chic gentleman.  Well dressed.  Well travelled.  Well spoken.  Very intelligent.  He ASKED ME QUESTIONS!  Be still my beating heart.  He was curious about who I am, what my life is like and he wasn’t remotely ‘intimidated’ by it.  He is the head architect for Cartier globally, not a divorced teacher from Enfield who likes Netflix.  He asked me more questions.  “Bella, you are real woman”, he said.  Omg.  He was definitely interested in my architecture, but I had to bid adieu as the 5 am night before had caught up with me.  The next night Colette and I went for dinner at this Italian restaurant called Fulvio’s (same name as the architect coincidentally).  This short rotund Italian man named Fulvio and his wife own the place.  He came to every table with a board and described the menu with great flare and passion.  His energy was fantastic.  We joked.  We laughed.  We spoke to our neighbouring tables.  We shared parmesan.  Kisses and hugs were had, and we left full in the belly and in spirit.   The next morning we were off to Munich to experience Octoberfest.  We made our way to the train to head downtown from the airport.  The doors opened and this tall, handsome, silver haired version of Liam Neeson wearing a beautiful coat stepped off.  He smiled at me.  I smiled at him.  He smiled at Colette.  She smiled at him.  Colette and I have very different looks.  She is tall and blonde.  I am short with black hair and curves.   He liked both and made it known with hungry eyes.  And this just continued on.  While Colette was trying to rent a bike I stood waiting for her with my bike.  This guy came over and said something to me in German.  I didn’t understand.  He then asked me if I speak Italian. I said no.  English – Canadian.  Not the sexiest of dialects.  Colette made her way over to us to hear me explaining we were visiting.  He then said – well, what I wanted to say is that you are beautiful woman.  Ciao.   This was before we went to Octoberfest.  With no Drindles on, wearing only Canadian charisma, we walked into a sea of beer drinking-Drindle and Lederhoson wearing – German folk song singing-people.  Beeindruckend – that’s Wow in German.  My lipstick was referred to by an Irish guy as ‘the most fantastic display of lip coverage he had ever seen.’  We danced on tables, we sang, we laughed, we talked, we drank beer… it was absolutely hilarious.   We flew back to Canada renewed in our spirit, and our belief that there are indeed fun, intelligent, interesting, charismatic, good looking single men in this world! Well, actually, German men in Bravaria wear their wedding band on the right hand, so that did cause some confusion.  Though the interactions were quick and mostly foolish: eye contact, compliments, conversation (both intelligent and not), questions… all things Canadian men, ummm, don’t do – just like Stella  – it gave us our groove back.   

A few years back I reluctantly went to a psychic fair with my cousin.  I ended up getting my palm and energy read by this guy Brian.  I remember he looked at my palm and then at me and said – oh, you are too full of passion to be living in Canada.  Go to Europe.  They are passionate.  They will dance.  They will understand you. And so other amazing single ladies, I recommend you do the same.  Don’t get botox.  Don’t think you need to lose weight.   Wear less bold lipstick.  Not be yourself.  All you need to do is buy a plane ticket across the Atlantic to get your mojo back.

Xoxo.

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Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are…

3 Jul

Online dating

What’s new?  Likely one of the most used pleasantries when engaging in small talk.  I actually have my 20 year high school reunion this weekend and I am 100% positive that question will be asked many times.  What’s new with you?  Hmmm.  When you are single that is a hard question to answer.   You don’t have the usual filler material that those who are in a relationship or those who have children can use – ‘I got married’ or ‘I had a baby’.  Instead it feels somewhat awkward and I find myself grappling with what to say.  What’s new?  Well, I have lots of new things on the go, but not the type of stuff you say when engaging in small talk. If the level of small talk is a bit deeper and you perhaps know the person a bit better, ‘Are you seeing anyone?’ will come up.  I am willing to talk about that.  Dating.

I spent a lot of time this weekend with single girlfriends.  They’re smart, confident, fun, pretty, athletic, independent, well travelled, social, interesting and not emotionally messed up women.  I would say the topic of dating comes up every single time we are together.  In fact, it might trump the topic of weather – it even trumps the topic of Trump.  It is like a merry-go-round… we always circle back to it.  It is hard to find someone who is a good match for you.  It is even harder to find someone who is a good match for you when you are 38 and not normal.  That is right NOT NORMAL.  The new normal is flakey and complicated.

Dating has always been a source of emotional highs and low for anyone who engages in it:  triumphs and also complete emotional vulnerability.  In the past, it was giving your number to a guy at a bar and then obsessing with your girlfriends over when he was going to call.   Checking the messages just in case the phone didn’t actually ring when he called.  I remember one girlfriend telling me that she hid in a bush outside a guys house as she was sure he was dating someone else. A low moment.  There have always been the ‘ghosting’ tendencies – not calling after taking the number, not calling back for a second date or being stood up.  Today though, it is a real jungle.  You are no longer required to get dressed up, drink a bottle of wine, take a taxi downtown to your favourite bar to sort through a room full of drunk people in the hopes of finding someone who floats your boat.   You can do it from anywhere – from your toilet, your bed, your sofa, the subway, the doctors office or when even when your date goes to the bathroom if you’re not that into them – you can swipe away as you have access to every other single who is within a given radius of where you are.   More is more.  Options are endless. We make quick judgements based on carefully (or sometimes not so carefully) curated photos of potential mates.  While I was typing this I decided to look at Tinder to see who is around me.  There is a guy named Liam, 36, with 4 sexy photos of himself.   He wrote:  ‘Always love pizza.  Down for whatever’.  John, 42, 3 photos – one of his truck, one of his dog and another of him smoking and having a beer with the dog in the background.  He didn’t write anything.  Graham, 47, one pic of himself with balloons up his shirt which look like breasts. He wrote ‘Married, looking for summer fun.’ I wonder who swipes Yes to these guys?   The pool isn’t overflowing with options.  Just like ordering from the Sears catalog when I was a kid – a lot of stuff in the photos didn’t look as good in person or it just didn’t fit.  On top of this catalog style mate selection – no one talks to each other anymore.   Human to human connections are limited these days.  We shop online, we pay our bills online, we book travel online and we can even order groceries online which greatly lowers the likelihood of meeting someone in a grocery store.  Look around the next time you are sitting at a bar or you’re at an event – everyone is looking at their phones.  It fills a void for the social awkwardness that being alone creates.  I am guilty of it.  They might even be swiping you while you are sitting beside them.   I used to be an amazing wing woman.  I brought a lot friends to the men they were lusting over – there have been a few marriages as a result of my skills .  I wasn’t shy to go over, strike up the conversation, slyly bring my friend into the mix if he seemed cool and then slide away.  I was like Will Smith in Hitch.    I think that’s why old guys always like me because I still enjoy talking to people.  I remind them of ‘the good old days’ when people, just, you know, spoke to each other.  Now if someone comes up to you, you think they are a Jehovah’s Witness or they’re going to put a drug in your drink.  Now don’t get me wrong – online dating has brought me to meet some great guys.  I am discerning with who I meet – you can sniff out quite quickly if someone is worth meeting or not.  You know, if they ask you a question beyond ‘what’s up’ they are really standing out of the crowd.  I’ve had some hilarious dates, great connections and lots of fun.  In fact, this past winter I thought I met someone who was a keeper via online.  It ends up it wasn’t my ring finger I gave him… it was the middle one.

Sex and the City aired for the first time 20 years ago – they were more or less the same age as I am now.  I’ve watched every episode a few times over, and do you want to know what I notice – it is the same stuff my friends and I are dealing with today just in a different package.  My sister-in-law (who luckily found my anomaly of a brother while they were in university) said she thinks she would die if she had to date today.  I am telling you I deserve a medal for the resilience I have shown.  It is actually harder than running a marathon… at least in a marathon you know the struggle is over at 42 km’s.

Just like Carrie never lost sight of the fact that her Mr. Big existed and that romance was not dead… I too remain steadfast in my belief that there is an amazing man out there for my girlfriends, and hopefully for me too.  I am not sure what he looks like, what his age is, where he lives, what he does for work or how much hair he has – it seems that those things matter less and less.   Emotional intelligence, the ability to communicate, the ability to compromise, consideration, reliability, integrity… those attributes are actually the sexy ones.  I know he exists, it only makes rational sense to me that there are also amazing single men out there who are  thinking the same things as my single friends and I.   I don’t think, however, that he is on Tinder with pics of himself at the gym or with balloons up his shirt.  Come out, come out, wherever you are… please.

 

Here comes the bride…

18 Oct

Choose-Choice.jpgI love weddings.  Love + friends + family + food + wine + dancing = a great time in my books.  Both my mother and father come from very large families and so going to weddings was always part of my childhood.   One summer there was something like 7 of Mom’s first cousins got married.  That big family is still there and added to the mix is lots of friends from all of my various avenues in life.   At this stage in the game weddings are an awesome way to get together with friends and family – it doesn’t end up being just about the bride and groom as it is a reunion of sorts for guests as people now live all over the world.  I was at a wedding this past weekend and it was a roar.   As I was pulling a ‘slide out to bed’ from the after party I heard some of the guys (who are now married, have children and had consumed copious amounts of alcohol) reminiscing about days gone by.  ‘Sean, do you remember when you shit in my bathtub?’ followed by  ‘Do you remember when Andrew shit in my bbq?’.  Upon hearing this I was certain it was a great time to go to bed.

Getting married is very different than it used to be.   In the past people got married young and typically would tie the knot with someone who lived down the road from them or went to the same school.  Someone who was compatible enough, came from a decent family, and let’s be honest, so they could have sex.  Fast forward to present day – we get married later, women have their own finances and their own properties so we are not living at home pining to move out of Mom/Dads house, the church does not dictate what we chose to do or not do, we own fewer farms and have less children.   We can live anywhere we want in the world.  And toss in the old World Wide Web and suddenly we have access to people from all over the bloody world from our living rooms.  About 10 years ago my best friend (who grew up in the same rural community as I did) and I were having a conversation about this topic.  We said ‘Can you imagine marrying someone from our elementary school? Who would you pick?’  If I recall correctly,  I chose one of the O’Brien boys who always reminded me of Chris Isaac and Sarah chose a redhead from over the road who is now a surgeon.  We both went older – I went for looks and she went for brains.  But the notion of it had us roaring with laughter.  I am reading a book right now called Modern Romance and it talks about this subject.  Is the notion of having too many choices too much?  When I think of this I think of my parents living room.  Growing up there were only say 2 places to get furniture from.  When my Mom needed a new piece of furniture (we never had all new furniture at once as they saved enough money to buy what they needed at that time vs using to credit to do over everything all at once).  She would go to town, sit in a few chairs and make a decision.  Now, on the other hand, we can order furniture from a 100 different places.  And we need to look on Instagram, Pinterst, Houzz  and magazines to get inspiration.  We end up spending hours and hours and hours looking, searching, deciding and wondering IS THIS the right chair or will I see something better somewhere else?  Do we end up anymore satisfied in the end?   I would think less as the damn chair is so nice and you put so much time into finding it that you don’t want your kids, pets or anyone eating food or drinking wine to come near it in fear of it getting dirty.

Maybe that could be true for relationships too. We have so many choices now that we are overwhelmed by the options.  I remember when one of my brothers was first seeking a nanny to look after his kids.  Of course they had visions of Mary Poppins floating into their house. Someone who could cook, clean, sing, dance, be patient, creative and give a little bit of sugar to help the medicine go down.  In reality, they got a very mixed bag of applicants and by the end of it I heard my brother say ‘Mary Poppins does not exist… especially for 12 bucks an hour’.  Instead, they found someone who was reliable and trustworthy.  Writing that line has brought memories of that nanny.  I could easily write a blog about her- she was something else.    Here is a favorite memory of her.  She walked in on a Monday morning and I asked her how her weekend was (not sure why I did as listening to the answer was always a lesson in torture).  There was ALWAYS something massively negative which followed… flu,  113 (or some crazy number) of hours in emergency, didn’t sleep, rabbit was sick.    On that particular Monday it was especially foul as she replied ‘it was terrible I found out my brother is actually my father.’  Bam.  The next Monday she showed up with a eye patch on.  I didn’t ask how her weekend was that day.   She is single.  Moving on and getting back on topic now.  Just like Mary Poppins perhaps Mr Perfect or Ms Perfect does not exist.

Choices, choices, choices, choices.  I recently had a big work event and I had in my mind that I wanted to wear a red dress.  When I get something in my mind I can’t settle.  I just can’t.  I looked in all the local stores, I looked online, I looked in local stores, I looked online… I saw one dress I really liked, but didn’t order it right away as I kept on looking for other options and so when I finally decided that was the THE ONE – my size was out of stock. I missed out as I had so many options I couldn’t make a bloody decision.  I wore a black dress.  A perfectly nice black dress.  And I will be able to wear it again unlike the Oscar worthy red one I had in my mind which was impractical and likely would have cost another $100 in alterations.  I could have done better things with the time I spent contemplating.  I recently read that President Obama only wears grey or blue suits.  He doesn’t like to make decisions about what he wears or eats as he has too many decisions to make – so he limits his choices.

Perhaps we need to be like Obama and scale back on the amount of decisions we need to make.  Keep it simple.  Maybe I should pop over to the houses of some of the boys from elementary school…

 

 

What a difference a year makes…

6 Oct

image.jpeg

Last weekend I had the great fortune of going to Montreal with girlfriends to see Adele in concert.  I told my younger male cousin I was going to see her and he replied ‘Wow, that is really cool.  But what do you do just stand there and cry the whole time?’  I can see how he would think that seeing as 90% of her songs are about past relationships and breakups.

Last year at this time I went through a breakup (I didn’t write any songs about it) and although I feel 100% thankful to be outta that relationship, it certainly wasn’t a fun experience.  One year ago this weekend it was coming to a breaking point – I wasn’t feeling so ‘thankful’ last Thanksgiving.  It culminated on a trip to Ireland a week later when I had to hold myself back from pushing him off the Cliffs of Maher.  I won’t get into specifics, but I put on my big girl panties and forged forward.  Life can be tough, but so am I. What a difference a year makes.

I was 35 then and I am now 36.  I’ve never been one to be preoccupied with what I ‘should’ be doing at particular ages, but sometimes it does come to mind when your friends/siblings are celebrating anniversaries and having kids.  I’ve gone to more wedding showers, weddings, baby showers, baptisms and housewarmings than I can count.   But then I snap back to my reality and stop comparing myself to others.  So, I am not married and I don’t have kids.  I’ve always hated the term ‘baggage’ when referring to ones children, past relationships, etc.  It is quite funny at this age as it seems having ‘baggage’ is the norm and if you don’t there might be something wrong with you too.  Do you have children. No?  Have you been married? No.  Why not?  Jesus, ummm, because I haven’t met someone I want to get married to and have kids with?

When I think of it I don’t often hear people who are married claim that they are ‘so happy’.  Is it really the be-all-end-all?   With maturity I’ve realized that being ‘happy’ isn’t obtained through someone else and if anything being single allows you to really know yourself, stand on your own, develop interests, exercise, go out of your comfort zone, maintain tight friendships, volunteer and travel – which are all things that contribute to making you feel ‘happy’ and things I do on a daily basis.  Of course companionship, having a partner and getting some arse adds to that.

Dog-park John, I know you are reading this and I know you are hoping for some funny stuff.   Of course with being single comes dating and it always seems great stories follow me wherever I go.   The main difference with dating now is that online seems to be the main way people meet and with that comes the reality that people are dating multiple people at the same time.    God in the past it took a $100 investment to maybe find someone to go on a date with – new dress, wine, taxi, cover charge, drinks — only to have some greaser who was too drunk hit on you.   Now, in the comfort of your home in your pjs you can swipe through the local talent.  I am very selective, so I really haven’t had any of the horror stories I’ve heard from other women, but my very first date was far from ideal.  Since all of the men who come into my life acquire terms of reference; let’s call him ‘Chef Clooney’ because he was a chef and looked like a dramatic George Clooney in his pics.  Well he didn’t look like that in person.  We went for sushi and his phone rang in the middle of dinner.  He said he had to take it (but stayed at the table).  For the next 13 minutes he slaughtered his ex on the phone with whomever he was talking to.  Do you know how long 13 minutes feels when you are sitting at a table with someone who you are not attracted to listening to them talk about their ex having Chrons and how he made her special food and how since he pays her phone bills he knows who she talks to.  WTF???  I’ve never eaten a maki roll so fast or felt more suddenly tired.  There has been many dates since then from setups to online and every way in between.  Other than ‘Australian Peter’ no one has really turned my head until recently.  Let’s call this guy ‘The Actor’ (because he is one for his job and perhaps figuratively too). It took a bit for our schedules to collide, but when they did a real collision happened. Although I am an open creature I generally keep my cards pretty close, but this guy he laid it on real thick – you are hot, you are smart, you are funny, you are interesting, your eyes, your voice, your smell.  Flattered and feeling like a super model – he got under my skin with his sense of humor, cleverness, commonalities, comfort and cuteness.  Over the next bit we saw each other/talked a lot.  He came to a big event I organized for my work (which was kind of a big deal as the tickets were pricey and it was the same night as a big event for his industry).  He said I was very impressive.  And then.  Pouf!  He kind of vanished.   Leaves a girl wondering… oh it MUST be because he is newly separated, oh it MUST be because he is busy at work (and you know how men can’t handle more than one thing at a time), oh it MUST be because we’ve both been travelling.  Yesterday while at work my phone rang in the middle of the afternoon and there he was.  Just like a groundhog he came out of his hole.  In reality he is dating multiple people and juggling ladies just like a circus performer – and he is newly separated, busy with work and we’ve both been travelling.  A few years ago a 44 year old newly single guy would be relegated to being set up or dragging his married buddies to the bar to seek out some babes.  Now all you have to do is throw a couple pictures up and boom you have access to many other single people.  This is the reality of new age dating.  Temptation Island and ‘the next best thing’ is at your fingertips.  All the time.  It is like being on a real life episode of The Bachelor.  And for a newly seperated 44 year old guy I am sure that is quite a pump to the ego.

So here I am one year latet – I don’t live in my very nice house anymore and my eggs are one year older.  The only two (sort of) negative things I can think of.  I do have a sweet place of my own and in the last year I’ve  travelled lots, done great work, volunteered, learned new skills, spent terrific times with friends/family and met many fabulous men.  And who knows, maybe someday this Lochness Monster of a man I am looking for will saunter into my life.  If and when that happens it will be amazing, but in the meantime I am quite happy writing the story of my life as a single girl.

 

Welcome back to the jungle baby…

2 Jun

mr-right

I’ve been rocking the ‘Single’ title for about 6 months now.  Although my grandmother probably thinks  a) I am going to be a Spintress or b) that there is something wrong with me.  I have to say I have been thoroughly enjoying myself.  Do what I want – when I want.  Eat what I want – when I want.   See who I want, solo sleep is sound and dating is a tonne of fun.  Of course, there have been a few good stories and they are worth sharing.

About 1.5 months ago I went to dinner with a guy I had met.  I suggested a restaurant which is close to my place and so I trotted down the hill to meet him.  I could see the back of his head in the front window when I walked in so I knew where he was sitting.  There is a small wall when you walk in which blocks the view of where he was and the table beside him.  So I walked past that little wall and made a sharp right hand turn.  I saw him.  He saw me. And unfortunately, I also saw my ex-boyfriend.  As luck would have it they were sitting right beside each other.  Like, an arms length apart.  The feeling I had was similar to walking in on your parents having sex.  I said ‘Hello’ to both parties and turned on my pink heels to find the waitress.  Fortunately I knew her.  I said ‘Listen we’ve got a 911 situation in the front… ex boyfriend and date are sitting beside each other.’  She said ‘Walk to the back.  Walk to the back.  I will get you a drink and fetch your date.’  So I slammed back a dark and stormy and settled in.  Now, the other weird thing about the situation was that he was having dinner with a, hmm, how do I say it, a very young girl who I’ve met before.  There was a 17 year difference between him and I, but there must be at least 25 between them.  He wasn’t in his right after work clothes.  Nope.  He had gone home and changed which made me think it was a date.  Maybe he was helping her figure out how to put her tuition towards her tax return.  Or maybe she was teaching him how to use Snapchat.  I digress.  One way or the other it felt incredibly awkward.  Alas, the guy I was on the date with was kind of already dead in the water for a few reasons – he likes Star Wars and playing video games.

I since signed up for an online site as that is the way of the world now, but feel kind of wary about it so I hid my profile.  This is a good thing in that you don’t get buckets of emails from greasers who say ‘hey sexy’ or ‘Hi’,  ‘Mmmm’, or ‘Ur hot’, but it also limits normal guys seeing you too.  Based on info that the website collects from you it creates a list of potential matches.  One day I had what they call a ‘Ultra Match’.  When I looked at the profile I thought I recognized him.  It was a guy who I go to the dog park with every morning.    Because my profile is hidden he can’t see me, so he isn’t aware of this info.   I read his profile where he said he is funny, has a great job, lots of hobbies, smart, etc.  I went to the park in the morning with a new purpose – I was going to sniff my ultra match out.  Honestly, it took nearly a month to hear him say anything even kind of funny.  It was like pulling teeth talking to him at first. The thing with online dating is people hide behind their computers. It is a whole lot harder to be funny and interesting in person than it is typing on a computer.  I’ve somewhat broken him down at this point.  I don’t think he is my ‘Ultra Match’.  He wears bad track pants, but his dog is fabulous.

On a flight to NYC a few weeks back a silver fox was sitting beside me.  My girlfriends were sitting behind me so I was kind of turned around chatting with them.  I said something about having a goat when I was a kid and how much of an asshole he was.  The silver fox who was seated across from me found that funny and started to laugh.  After that he got wrapped into our conversation.  After we explained that we were going to NYC to get a wedding dress for one of the girls he said to me ‘So you are engaged?’.  I said ‘No, Katie is.’  He said ‘Oh, are you married?’  To which I said ‘No. Are you?’.  He replied ‘I was married for a long time, but I’m not now.’   He also in the course of conversation told us about his personal airplane, Ferrari and other macho shit that men like to share and think they are impressing you with.  He showed us a picture of his ski chalet across from The Ritz in Colorado and Katie showed him a video of her riding a GT Racer down her driveway going over homemade ramps. Just to bring him back down to earth.  I would have been far more impressed if he didn’t say anything at all about his financial prowess.  Anyhow, I checked my email a few days later and lo and behold I had a message from him saying how much he enjoyed meeting me and that he is coming back to Halifax in a month and would love to see me.   I guess I had given him enough information that with a little ‘google’ he tracked me down.  He had snow on the roof, but a fire in the oven.  If he gets back in touch I will go on a date with him… if for no other reason than to just to have a good story to write about here.

The most recent escapade includes being set up with a guy who’s last name involves the word ‘fart’.  My most recent boyfriend had the same last name as me.  If it was something typical that would just be boring, wouldn’t it?

 

 

 

 

 

Mile High Club Failure

3 Apr

mile high club

I am usually a very positive person. It takes quite a lot to ruffle my feathers. I usually wake up feeling happy, motivated, and ready to take on the day. This winter has positively gotten the positive side of me.  I have tried everything to be optimistic about this winter – took a trip thinking it would be close to being done when we got back.  Nope.  I have terrific winter apparel (North Face parka, Sorel winter boots, hats, gloves) but even that can’t help me any more. Every morning I look at getting dressed with the same enthusiasm as going for a root canal. I spent $32 on tights the other day; on wear one both ripped. My boots are salt stained. Last night ‘Steady Eddie Maurice’ lost his cool. He came home to find our garage drain had decided to back up and in turn filled the garage floor with water.  The water soaked boxes which were on the floor and their collapse caused all of the boxes on top of them to fall over and spill, resulting in sopping wet papers.  I shed my ‘Debbie Downer Winter Attitude’ and talked him off the “I AM DONE WITH WINTER” ledge.

This morning I woke up and read something that made me feel much better.  A few months ago there was a story in the Chronicle Herald about a man and woman (not a couple) who engaged in sexual acts while on a flight from Toronto.  Upon arriving in Halifax the pair were arrested and charged with plane sex charges, mischief and causing a disturbance. The police would not confirm whether or not the man and women previously knew each other, but they did confirm that the “act” was not intercourse. RCMP stated that “the people involved were not naked though the clothing was partially open.”  In an interview he broke his stone cold face when he said this with a smirk on his face  “Others around the area knew what was happening.”   I have always wondered about The Mile High Club and the impracticality of it, but this story really got me thinking.  The flight from Toronto is only 2 hour and this flight landed at 5 pm which means it wasn’t night time. Now, I don’t know about you but in the MANY flights I have taken out of or arriving in Halifax, the most I have ever wanted to do with a seatmate is talk as it is typically someone from NFLD who is afraid of flying or an oil rig worker heading west.  There are TV screens on most Air Canada planes which cause people to be completely disengaged with their seatmates.  This mornings article had another piece of information which wasn’t in the previous writings: the wife of the man involved in this “situation” was waiting for him at the gate!  How is that for a “Honey I’m home surprise”?!  I am sure he said “I was just watching a movie and all of the sudden this chick started on me” or “I was asleep, woke up and the woman in 4D was undoing my pants” or “I took medication before flying and I blacked out. I don’t remember anything.”  The length of this flight is what really has me baffled. So, let’s say they met on the flight and by the time the captain turned off the seat belt sign things were happening.  Maybe turbulence caused his zipper to come down?  All the bumping might have done it.

So, when I think about how cruddy the weather is I think about these two airplane lovers – they need to deal with the weather, criminal charges and an enraged wife. Later today I am boarding a flight bound for Toronto… hopefully I won’t get escorted out by RCMP.

Shame Shame Double Shame

17 Feb

shame-on-you-fingers

We live in an age where shame isn’t felt as much because many things can be done electronically now rather than in person.  Texts, banking, dating, Dr. Google, cell phones, voting, etc.  Growing up we had one phone in our house and it was mounted on the wall in the middle of the dining/kitchen/living room.  If any of us wanted to call someone you had to do it in the middle of all the action and you likely had a parent answer the phone on the other end.  Our phone cord would get stretched so badly that it needed to be replaced often.  Now, every one has a phone of their own no matter what the age really.  So there is no shame involved as you no longer have to call a guy/girl with your entire family listening and then having to ask their mother/father to speak to them.  We even had a party line for quite a few years which meant our old cranky neighbor with one leg would often interrupt your call telling you to “get the hell off the phone”.  Communication has changed for all ages.

Internet dating has caused huge changes in the world of meeting and greeting.  No longer do you have to blow-dry your hair, rub 5 smelly creams all over you, put on lipstick, heels, get a cab, pay cover, to scour a bar full of creeps for someone you find attractive.  No, now you can wear your big flannel pj’s while you scope out potential mates online without going through the discomfort of approaching, breaking the ice and giving a number.  I know online dating has worked for some and I myself have tried it.  It didn’t work for me for a few reasons:  too many losers, too much energy, too much time, too much expectation and of course too many people dating multiples.  This is where the point of my post comes from.

My co-worker is fun, kind, very attractive, smart, financially independent single woman.  Sadly, she lost her husband and is back in the arena of finding a man. She has tried all the dating methods: bars, set ups, and of course online dating.  I love hearing all of the dating chronicles.  She is a bit older than me, but it seems that dating issues are the same no matter what age you are.  So here is the point of this post.  Michelle met a guy online: good looking, entrepreneur, fun, sporty, etc.  So, they were going on some dates and “poof” he falls off the face of the earth without any warning.  He pulled a Houdini.  She put on her big girl panties and kept trucking.  A few months later she heard from him out of the blue. Of course, he laid out a series of excuses for why he pulled the magic disappearing act – kids, work, he had a cold.  He asked her out again and she decided to go meet up with him.  Now, some would say ‘no, she should have said no’.  Well, most of the people that say that are in relationships.  When you are single and haven’t had a date in a few months your decisions making process is different.  Well they end up seeing each other and things actually went really well.  They started dating – met his mom, his kids, he met her son, she went to his cabin, concerts… until yet again he goes ‘poof’!  Arsehole.  She got over it.  Fast forward about a month when her best friend is at a party chatting with a friend of a friend.  In conversation one of the gals starts talking about her friend who was dating a guy she met online – good looking, entrepreneur, fun, sporty (sound familiar???) when suddenly he went “poof”.  It sounded oddly familiar so her friend asked “what kind of a company did he own?” – match.  “what was his name” – match.  Well, well, well it seems he was dating the both of them at the same time.  After some fact checking it is indeed the same guy.  The two women decided to meet.  He was in fact in “committed relationships” with the both of them and even went on dates with both of them on the same days!  Uh-oh.  Here he thinks he got away with dating the two of them (and maybe others) and he also jaded the both of them by falling off the face of the earth.  These two ladies decided to get the better of him.  They hatched a plan to hit a pub where they know he always goes.  They perched themselves at the bar and waited for him to walk in. Sure enough – he did. A very funny encounter followed.  Lucky for him his insurance broker arrived to meet him for dinner before they could embarrass him much further.  The pic at the top is what they sent to him after he went and sat at his table.

I love it.  I love that they took the bull by the horns, hatched a plan and made him squirm.  There is no shame anymore because we live in big urban environments where you will likely never see the person again.  He certainly didn’t think he was going to… at least not the two of them together. Boom!