Tag Archives: Dating

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.

 

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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?

 

 

 

 

 

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!

You’re my brother

21 Mar

shoppingmap

As we all know there is a striking difference between men and women.  As Randy Travis said “As long as old women sit and talk about old men” – it is a constant topic.  In recent days the differences have been even more apparent to me as I am remodeling a home with my boyfriend.  Maurice’ style when a decision needs to be made: go to an expert and if the price isn’t shocking do it.  Emilie’s style when a decision needs to be made: reference many websites/magazines, look at different stores, compare prices and ask friends before maybe/perhaps making a decision.  Throughout this process we’ve actually mostly been on the same page except on a few things.  Maurice absolutely hates Home Sense, sales andKijiji makes his skin itch.   I on the other hand see great value in Kijiji and throughout this process we’ve had quite a few things to sell and I have made us back quite a bit of dough.  Now here is where it gets funny. 

I got an email from a guy asking me about a coffee table I had on Kijiji.  Once you respond to the email it shows you the actual email address of the person not just “you have received a message from Kijiji”.  We went back and forth when he offered me half of what I was asking for the table.  I said no.  Then I get another email from Kijiji about the table to which I replied. When this person responded the email address was from a person with the same last name as the other person who was emailing me.  This person asks to have the table for a little higher than the other guy.  They were attempting to haggle me at the same time, however, they didn’t do a very good job of it seeing as I could see their names. I stuck to my guns and only lowered it by $20.  Last night I arranged to have “them” meet us at the house to pick it up.   When they came it was a father and son – even though they knew the dimensions of the table they looked at it and said “oh I don’t know if it will fit in our car”.  At that moment my phone rang so I left Maurice to manage the project.  Off Maurice goes outside with these two guys in an attempt to rid us of this table. After I got off the phone I realized Maurice hadn’t come back into the house yet so I went to the window to see what was happening.  Upon looking I see Maurice trying to fit the table in the back of their car; I watched for a few minutes roaring laughing as they tried to make it fit.   Here is the guy who hates haggling and finds it strange that strangers come to your house to pick up your old things on his knees trying to finish the deal.  I got distracted and at least another 10 minutes went by before he came into the house.   After a few curse words he tells me that the two men went to put it in the car and when doing so they broke the glass.  They then tell Maurice they don’t want the table anymore.  Maurice says “well you broke it so you need to pay me for the glass, $40”.  The father puts his hand on Maurice’s shoulder and says to him “You’re my brother” (as in God made them connected) and says “I will give you $25”.   Now we have a coffee table with no glass and the entire purpose of the activity was to rid us of the things we don’t need anymore.  Maurice is now fully convinced that Kijiji is evil. 

The incident at the hotel

16 Jan

Most of you who know me would describe me as carefree, irreverent and somewhat wild.  When it comes to farting I am uptight, conservative and old-fashioned. I grew up in a bungalow with 3 older brothers and my father, outnumbered greatly.   Seeing as I was in a house full of men I was exposed to a lot of farting.  I just googled “average number of farts daily”  and science says the average person farts 15 times a day.  Now take the average of 15 X 4 (number of men in my house – I am leaving my mother and I out of this) and you get 60 farts.  I am willing to say that they were above average: Mom often made chili, baked beans and other carb rich dishes. Being exposed to 60 farts is enough to create a negative experience.

Recently I took a trip to NYC with my boyfriend (who I do not fart in front of).  We stayed in a lovely 290 square foot room in Midtown Manhattan.  290 feet does not leave a lot of room for freedom.  Thankfully we had the dog with us so that gave a great excuse to get out “I will take the dog out to pee – you stay here”. I am sure he was doing the same thing I was doing when left alone.  Due to the limited space our luggage was pushed into any available area – Maurice’s was at the foot of the bed and mine was beside the bed on a radiator.  Maurice was bent over looking for something in his suitcase when I realized I needed something in mine.  In order to get to mine I needed to slide along the end of the bed and swing the corner.   While sliding by I had to get around Maurice and when I tried to do so I put my hands on his hips and did something similar to what dogs do to other dogs at the park.  This set him off-balance and for some reason I decided to pull him backwards onto the bed and inadvertently on top of me.  I am taking a guess here but I would say Maurice weighs somewhere around 200 pounds.  The impact of a 200 pound man landing on you is quite intense.  When the impact occurred something happened… something BIG happened… gas which had been trapped inside of me for 4 days came rushing out.  I let out an enormous fart.  There was a moment of silence and then he said “was that a fart, was that a fart?”, my silence indicated the answer.  I jumped up off the bed and awkwardly took a big gulp of orange juice at the exact moment that Maurice said “that was the biggest fart I have ever heard” and began laughing harder than I have ever heard him laugh.  His reaction caused nervous laughter on my end – to make matters worse I was swallowing juice at that exact moment – it came out and sprayed all over the dog and the bed.  So, here I was spewing things from both ends.  I left my pride in that 290 square foot room in Midtown Manhattan.

Still embarrassed and signing off – not as “The Girl Who Played With Fire” or “The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest” but as “The Girl Who Let Out The Biggest Fart Ever Recorded”.

EC