Monthly Archives: September 2013

The set up

I have been set up! I guess face raper was a bit of a set up too, or a mutual friend meeting… This was a bonafide, we got this guy we want you to date scenario.
A couple weeks ago I was wondering around the farmers market on a glorious saturday. I got a facebook message, a couple girl friends had this guy, he worked with the husband of one, and had been over entertaining and making dinner for them both. I guess the two of them got to plotting this guy needed to be set up, with someone awesome, but instead they thought of me! (kidding, honestly kidding, I’ve been known to pull off amazing from time to time). He lives a couple hours away, and has 2 kids, but a regular schedule with them, he is funny, employed, could they give him my number? I replied right away with a sure why not, and then thought for a min. I am supposed to be more choosy. Ask questions, and only spend date time with people I like. I forgot for a minute. So I reply with some questions, they answer them for me, and I ask his name. Well what do you know… I know his ex wife, or I know of her. I am friends with her cousin. Good friends, he is one of my favourite people in the world. We have been on trips together, I have rescued him from the hospital, and we have exchanged novella length heartfelt texts. He is my rock, like the king of richter, a man that always always has my back. I have never heard him say anything bad about his cousins (now ex) husband. So if he is okay with there being that tie, yes we can go out. I tell the girls to have him look at my facebook to see if he is interested. Already done.
He starts texting me, later that day, we chat about this and that, he is funny via text, smart, loves his kids, we like a bunch of the same things, movies, TV, we have a pile in common. We texted all week, not being able to make a date until the following friday. I texted our mutual friend



We were going to meet for coffee, then it was up graded to lunch, and it evolved into breakfast. That’s right I like him enough to have a breakfast date. It could potentially effect my entire day. As usual my trip to kelowna was over scheduled. I had more things crammed into what would be physically reasonable for the time allotted.
He met me, on time, was waiting for me, with a single, coral colored long stem rose. Sweet. We went inside and grabbed a table. This is when I spring on him my parents will be stopping by, they are picking up a few things to take to calgary. Yep, my parents are going to crash this first date. We chat a bit, he is smart, funny, I like him. My parents stop in and stay for a coffee. He is personable enough to hold his own. I haven’t asked M&D what they thought yet…
We have breakfast and continue to chat. A little coles notes life story exchange. And some story telling about our mutual friend. It was fun. But the date wasn’t over…
Remember a few weeks ago I went on a date with the guy who had the flashing shoe laces? And George michael earring? Yep, well Cherise wanted some laces for her dance kids, and I had agreed to pick them up for her, but wasn’t sure how I would get them to vernon… This guy works in vernon… We used him as a shoe lace mule. After breakfast, I took him to a second location, we stopped at a bank, and then out to “get the stuff” A shopping bag full of flashing laces, that he would take to work, and Cherise would then stop by his work to pick them up.
Apparently it wasn’t the worst date he has ever been on as he still texts me… I’ll see him again next week, I admire his resiliency!


head scratchers.

This week I have skillfully avoided any dates. I have been texting, a few of my faves, and a new one, My first set up! We have a breakfast date friday, I am especially looking forward to. Nice guy ninja sends me one or two word texts all day every day, but I have managed to put him off. I have had some great girl dates, done a little research on my possible career change. It’s nice, this is good, dating without the frenzy. I had a dinner date with the King, went to the banff film feature with Karma, a cannery stage play with R is on the agenda for tomorrow, and then after my breakfast date, a liquor event with the King again. The cute boy from the gym, (who needs a better name) Is having a birthday this weekend, but will not be in town.
I feel good. Really good. A little anxious, but just because I am contemplating the future, and a rather large unknown. I should do some yoga.
Just wanted to share a couple head scratchers with you all, my lovely readers (we surpassed 15,001 all time views this week, which is amazing.) The lewd cock shower strikes again. Remember last week? I told you about an unsolicited penis picture? Well I hadn’t heard from him since until today. He texted and messaged me from his new POF account, why do people do this? So they stay a new user? So they can’t be blocked? Crazy. Anyways, text messages me. And I simply reply by sending him back his penis picture with a caption “is this you?” I am hilarious. He doesn’t get it. He seems smug that I have kept the picture, and I told him it was his contact picture. He wants a sexy picture of me for my contact info. Nope.
POF profile pictures… there are the usuals, with a hat and sunglasses, from a decade ago, shirtless in front of a mirror flash over the face. But this is my favourite. This man loves his cat. That’s great, love your pets. I get that. But a picture of you in bed? While your cat licks your face? Looks like the cat is being forcibly confined to maximize face licking time. Poor exploited cat. Just too much…


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Choose your own adventure

My mom is a reader. Growing up in a small town, with my dad working shift work and only one vehicle, we walked around town, mom found low budget things to keep us entertained. I think she read every book in the small town library. We would go a couple times a week. Rain, shine, sleet and snow. Kicking leaves, or mom would pull us on a pig of a wooden toboggan. Each of us kids picking out a few books each. I read Nancy Drew, the babysitters club, novels like the hobbit, and lord of the rings before we had to in school, I read VC Andrews, and Anne Rice, See how hip I am, I was into vampires before they were cool. Funny that I can’t watch scary movies, but I can read the thrilling books.
You would think I would have liked the choose your own adventure books. Remember them? You come to a part in the story, where you choose a path, option “a” is page 246 option “b” is page 302. So you decide the path the story will take, and each decision is then subjected to further decisions. I hated them. What if I was making the wrong decision? what if I didn’t like the way the story ended? What was wrong with the author that they couldn’t just write the damn book? Why did I have to decide?? I wanted to be led, by the hand and shown this tale, have the bricks laid on my journey. I would read till I had to make a decision, mark the page, and read a bit of both option “a” and “b”. Even as a kid I liked to know the facts, make informed decisions. I would run out of fingers and thumbs to mark the pages, and because I didn’t want to commit specifically the story would no longer make sense. I stopped reading those stupid books. I started hanging around with my friends at the arcade, there were boys there.
I was thinking of those stupid books last week. Funny how my coping, or inability to cope with the decision making at 13 hasn’t magically disappeared at 33. I make decisions for other people all day every day. I struggle with my own deal. Damn codependent.
I have a great Job. I am at the top of my ladder. I get paid well for what I do. No one tells me what to do, when I should work, who I should hire, what I can and can-not do (Except the province of BC liquor laws.) My Boss has been incredibly understanding the last few month while I had a complete melt down. I have long standing relationships with most of my reps and suppliers. I am a medium sized fish, not big, but not small. I get a lot of “perks.” I have been in the liquor business in one way or another for 15 years. I know things. And I make a mean martini.
The down sides of my job, well, long weekends are busy, and although no one tells me I have to work them, I do feel responsible, and like to give staff a chance to take them off here and there. I am responsible, for the store, equipment, and violations to the liquor and control act as my name in on the licence. I am responsible for upwards of a half a million dollars worth of inventory and a staff of 10. I sell booze and cigarettes. But I rarely drink and I never smoke. It is heartbreaking to watch people drink themselves to death. Buy a mickey with cash and one on debit, so your wife doesn’t know you are drinking twice as much as she thinks you are. Collecting bottles and dirty dimes to scrape up enough cash for a bottle of cooking sherry. Yellow stained finger tips and rotten teeth. Breaks my heart. Yes they are adults, and make their own decisions, but I still feel it. There is always theft, things going “missing” and fraud. Cash and product. And neither of those things are mine. Managing other people can be challenging, and with a relatively low skill level required of most retail clerks it can be extra challenging (I have great staff comparatively, drama free). If some nair-do-well decides they want to smash a window for a bottle of cheer at 4 in the morning, I get the phone call, and have to line up the police, security camera footage, which is never at the right spot at the right time, and arrange repairs. If I work the till, I get to socialize, but the mountain of paperwork gets bigger, If I sit in the office doing paperwork I feel like I’ve been bad and get lonely. I hate counting cash. It’s dirty. And not mine so although I feel like I should care, I don’t. Generally I dislike most of the office work, maybe I just hate that office. If someone calls in sick, if I can’t pull in a favour or get it covered, I am stuck there. I am at the top of my ladder and although there are a couple more rungs, I’m close to the ceiling. There are still things to learn, and ways to grow, but the role I am in now, I feel proficient. The majority of my tasks at this point feel repetitive, and a little futile. I do not want to be doing what I am doing now in 10 years. Or 5 years, or really even tomorrow…
I have been offered a new job, doing something I have never done before. It is a chance to swim in a bigger pond. I will have to take a small step down, less money to start, I’ll lose some perks, and it is completely unknown. It would mean a move back to kelowna. (some of you just cheered a little, I know you did, and some of you did not…) This creates a mixed emotion for me. I have great people in Kelowna, but I have cultivated great people in penticton, I love the gym, and my gym partner, the saturday market, R, BRE and my amazing girl date partners. It’s pretty here, and finally comfortable. But still, I miss my Kelowna peeps, windfield crew and vernon family, being in Kelowna would make me more central. But starting over…once again…
The world is before me, I have no one to provide for or consider. I just need to choose my own adventure. Option A or option B. I hate this.

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caramel latte

I am venturing out of my normal in honour of my date last tuesday. Caramel Latte at Starbucks. It is warm, smooth, and sweet just like my date was, it also might keep me up most of the night. However this caramel latte probably isn’t going to cook me a paleo/Thai Dinner, rub my feet, twirl my hair and make me laugh. I mean, it might, but I’m not holding my breath. Oh, and smart, my date tuesday was smart, this caramel latte hasn’t read much.
Caramel latte (the man) met me on friday but was late. He texted all weekend and asked if we could reschedule for monday, I agreed, and then changed my mind. Monday I took a personal day. How about tuesday? I was stalling. Thinking maybe he would lose interest. I mean don’t get me wrong, very cute. Tall dark and handsome, personable, sparkling smile but I was convinced he just wanted to bang. What had me convinced? The sexually charged texts. Previous experiences. The dick pic I got this week although not from him made me feel objectified.
He was not deterred. Tuesday, he would come to penticton where he lives (is just staying with a friend in kelowna) and cook me dinner. Technically a second date. I referred to it as a Tryst. he said he would go look up what that meant and get back to me. I’ll wait while you do the same…
It was my turn to be late, I wanted to wear a dress, but decided jeans, would be smarter. I had to text Cherise his first and last name, and address. She asked if I had seen his ID. How old was he? He is 33, we are golden, and she said “Oooooh la la, Leave your clothes on.”
I replied “Rodger that, Wait, all of them? Or just pants?”
“All of them!”
He was barefoot in the kitchen listening to radiohead, cooking. He beamed as me as I poked my head thru the door. He said “perfect you are here in time for wine”. He was drinking a Viognier from Silk scarf, great wine, sells out every year. After a hug He pours me a glass and asks me what shoes I decided on for tonights date. We have had a few conversations about our mutual love of sexy shoes. The first room as you come in is a galley kitchen, his fridge is covered in words, sexy/funny phrases are pieced together on the freezer, the fridge is covered in greeting cards. I love greeting cards. Sending and getting real mail. I’m already impressed. There is a kitchen table against the wall covered in more cards, pictures, books, a shoe box. On the wall behind the table numerous framed family pictures. One especially sweet one of him, huge grin holding a fresh baby, his nephew. Man holding a baby, on the wall. This man, who is making me dinner and drinking a great wine, and obviously shares my love of both greeting cards, and family… Awe… Cherise told me to keep all of my clothes on. It may be more difficult than I first imagined.
His kitchen is impressive, not in fancy appliances or size, but it is stocked with all my favourite things, lots of whole and healthy food. He asks if I want a water, which he serves me in a martini shaker, awesome. Hope it’s okay he drinks his water room temperature? Yes, me too. Perfect.
His place is comfortable, clean, Some great art on the walls, a couple large framed mirrors. It could have been decorated by me. There isn’t anything in the room I don’t like. We chat a bit. We have been texting for 2 weeks, and I quite enjoy him, he is funny, thoughtful, smart. I’m hoping he is those things face to face. I wasn’t disappointed. I realized a couple nights before the date, he is off work because of a car accident/injury. But what did he do? He told me he was a pharmacist. I thought he was a “pharmacist” aka drug dealer. Haha, but only because he had a lot of leisure time. I certainly wouldn’t judge as I sell liquor and cigarettes. He really is a pharmacist, and the leisure time is rehab time. We chatted about the state of society, nutrition, depression, meds versus natural remedies. We have an appy, and he asks what my favourite type of elephant isle fruit wine is. I like the pear, and he goes into the other room and comes back with one. This man drinks great wine.
Honest truth, I saw his profile last fall when I was dating, thought he was cute, and interesting, but not looking for anything serious, and never contacted me, so we didn’t meet up. This time he messaged me, was impressed by my write up, or maybe it was just we shared a love of sexy shoes. We exchanged long messages online, until finally he asked for my phone number so he could send me a picture. The picture he sent was a children’s toy, that looked like a sex toy, inappropriate, terribly funny. We continued our conversation via text. Exchanged pictures, reciprocal, sexy but not lewd. When I sent him scenery or a dorky shot I was met with a witty retort.
He had been to the farmers market in summerland earlier that day to get some things for dinner. He was also eyeing up a wooden ring one of the vendors makes. I adore farmers markets, local, organic, fantastic. Dinner was savoury sautéed veggies, sweet spicy chicken and mixed greens. Fresh tomatoes, peppers, and hemp seed. The dressing was a homemade concoction of infused oils, of which he had a whole cupboard full. He had even stopped at an organic local bakery to pick up some bread for the salad. Quite a bit of planning and effort seemed to go into making me dinner. I was impressed. The salad was delicious, the only thing it seemed to be missing was avocado, then it could have held the title of best salad ever. Of course I wouldn’t dare say something like that out loud, just then he said “this is good, but it needs avocado”. Get out of my head. Haha, I responded with “I noticed, what are your serving me here??”
After dinner he showed me around his place, everything was tidy, decorative pillows, The spare room had a made bed, he had a couple different fruity foaming hand soaps in the washroom (flavours he said). I had to ask, did a girl live here? A wife I should know about? I live in girlfriend away for the week? Female roommate? He assured me none of the above. We discussed the benefit of having hand soap already foamed for you, just a time saver. I was so full I wanted to lay down, and take my pants off, but Cherise had warned me that it wasn’t the message I wanted to send. I was wearing underwear… no… pants on…
We laid on the floor chatting, he put on a live performance DVD from a local venue/artist that was great, folky. He pulled out a glossy book that he made from pictures taken on his life changing trip to thailand. We went thru page by page, him pointing out things and telling me anecdotes. Best cooking class, his favourite flower (this man has a fave flower), some asian girls crazy sexy shoes. He really does have a thing for sexy shoes. It was comfortable, fun, we laughed. He recommended this great website/app called TED talks, and we talked about some of the things he had listened to on there. This man gives me a mental erection. He makes my brain all engorged and throbby. I don’t think it was showing, my brain boner, that would have been embarrassing.
We made out a bit, clothes on like we were in high school while listening to radio head. Well not how I made out in high school, I ran away from boys, was a late bloomer, not physically, but in every other way. I waited, he did too. Interesting, we talked a bit about why. Finally decided good sense and reason dictated that I should go home, I had to work in the morning and at best would get 4 hours sleep. We had a marathon 8 hour date. And I had successfully kept my clothes on. I got a text when I got home 10 min or so after leaving. This is what I am used to, immediate validation. He had a great time, maybe we could do it again soon. I agreed it was fun.
The next day I got a good morning text, around noon when lucky him got to sleep until. Again saying what a good time he had. I agreed and said I was surprised because I thought he wanted soul-less banging. He said “so you were disappointed? Wait why would you think that?” I explained to him, why, and he said he wasn’t against the idea, but “had no regrets about the time we spent together. Fo sho (that means for sure) It was a blast”. Then he said “so I did read last night right, shocking”
Caramel Latte is not looking for a relationship, but after some careful consideration. Neither am I. I think this dating stuff is potentially fabulous and fun. I have made the mistake in the past of needless intensity. Ultimately I dove in with Goldylocks before I knew how deep the water was. I was exhausted, when I found someone I liked, I used him to take a break from the frenzy. I needed him to save me from myself. I didn’t have the tools or knowledge I have now. Doesn’t mean I will embark on a series on soul-less banging, or the year of the whore. I would ultimately like a relationship, a partner, but the right one, in good time. I refuse to rush into a relationship because of insecurity or an imagined need of one. And I will not dismiss spending time with men that I like because they checked a different box on their profile, or their geographical location. I get something out of these dates. Caramel Latte is one of my new favorites.

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nice guy ninja

I think 3 dates a week may be too many. I need to clean my bathroom, fold and put away last weeks laundry, wash this weeks laundry, catch up the blog on my amazing monday night date, vacuum, water my plants… they look sad, clean out my car, I still have an overnight bag and a box of jam (unrelated) from last weekend, I have to apply a facial mud mask, the thoughtful resting my chin in my hand while listening to my date talk has caused a break out, or the stress of dating maybe? I need to make a couple fairly large life decisions requiring some blog time and a list. And I still haven’t seen this weeks episode of SOA. Shit. And TV starts to get good again. Man… plus this work thing I am required to attend in exchange for a pay cheque and the gym to compensate for the beer/wine/coffee consumption. (and general good feelings, the gym keeps me sane.)
Tonights date has been especially patient waiting 2 weeks for an hour of my time. Not a big conversationalist, the majority of our correspondence has been 1-5 words. At most. In fact when I texted this guy, I called him the wrong name… I’m classy like that. I thought it was Tim… actually was Travis (not really I can’t tell you his real name without consent). I wasn’t particularly looking forward to tonight, I had made sure to only have an hour available. 3 dates in a week, in a row. Too much.
Travis was actually great. Better looking than his profile picture. Conversational in real life. I started in on the questions and conversation topics, he stopped me and requested I tell him more about me. He looked intently at me the entire time. Great guy. I liked him. Nice guy-came out of nowhere, sneaky ninja! Requested another hour of my time, maybe next week? I’m booking into thursday now… Makes me sound like an asshole. 4 minutes after our date he texted me to tell me I was beautiful, sweet, and an amazing person. Well shucks. He also told me that I was better looking in person than my profile pictures. That’s the second time in a week I have heard that. Maybe I need different pictures? Makes me a pretty girl ninja! I should change my headline. “Better looking in real life”

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back to back

I’m blogging out of order, I had a great date yesterday, but I wanted to have a little pity party after tonights main event.
I am tired, I stayed up late last night, after work I went for a run, showered and headed down to starbucks. I was chatting with one of my fave girls and didn’t have time to write last nights date. Chatting with her tonight was enlightening, she asked if I was on a date last week, yeah… she said it was funny because there was a definite lack of chemistry, (yep) She could tell by MY body language I wasn’t overly into him. Interesting… Anyways, she is all for me doing the majority of my dating there, maybe I’ll make them cards so they can rate the men, attractiveness, politeness, ability to order a half caf nonfat macchiato. She gave me her phone number tonight in case I need a drink after tomorrow nights date. Yes girl date, I got a girls phone number tonight.
My date tonight was cute, 41, looked it, relatively attractive, ex military on a disability pension. But… he was hard to talk to. Awkward. And reminded me mannerism wise of my brother. I could NEVER make out with this man. Never ever. And he kept looking past me, down the street. And he shrugged a lot. And 40 minutes felt like a long time. And why didn’t I just say no?
After that I went to my car. I drove directly to Burger King. It is whopper wednesday. I drove along eastside road to a dark and secluded area. I put on a great playlist, laid on my car, ate my whopper, sang along between bites and looked at tonights harvest moon and stars. I then drove the long way home, listening to my music way too loud. I felt better. 45 minute date with myself. And it was just how I like it.

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I spoke too soon. After my last post I got a dick pic. Literally minutes after. He had sent me torso, naked from the side, open coveralls, in a towel, under a sheet. I told him I liked surprises and had no need of a penis picture. He forgot, or he is a bad listener, either way, not good. No means no, right?
It’s an impressive piece of equipment, Bree mentioned he should put it up against something so we (I guess it was just for me, however…you send me an unsolicited dick pic I will show it to my roommate, and just about anyone else who wants to see. I ask for a picture, it is just for me!) could compare size, like a wine bottle, or maybe a ruler. It looked angry, rigid and a shade of purple, maybe it was just the light. I bet he has boner mood lighting. What do you say in response to a cock shot? I didn’t reply until the next day. I wanted to respond in a matter that was funny, at least for me because I feel as he has little or no sense of humour, but not belittle the fact that he had not respected my wish to NOT have a penis picture sent. Although mild, he had sexually violated me. Raped my eyeballs via my phone screen. Made my phone feel dirty, and my phone shares pictures with my ipad, so it’s been violated now too.
When I did respond, the next day, I hadn’t heard from him in the longest stretch since he initiated sexting. My response was
“looks like you had your hands full, must be why I haven’t heard from you. Did you want a picture of my labia in return?” Of course this I would not do, for someone I have been with, in a relationship, sure, why not, some stranger? I don’t feel like it’s my best side.
He replied “is that where you want me?”
Ugh, I WANT him to leave me alone… I WANT him to go stick his dick in a blender…
“No, A girl needs a little mystery, who wants to open a present if they already know what’s in the box? Or what would be in the box haha. You didn’t respect my wish and I won’t see someone who doesn’t respect me.”
Radio silence… brilliant. I may attach the picture to his contact info, so I know, and I have a picture to pull out and laugh at when I’m feeling low. Maybe I should print out copies and dress it up, penis rocket, penis skyscraper, penis submarine, penis elton john caracature, penis beyonce, are you ready for this jelly??? I feel a christmas card coming on…. Penis SANTA!!! or maybe it could be the sleigh.

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My magical Vagina

I cooled it a bit on the internet dates this week. Thank goodness because last week was excessive. Besides, do I want a boyfriend? Really? I don’t know, I always pick men that are emotionally or physically unavailable. Feels normal. I haven’t ever come first on a priority list.
This was apparent when I got sick. I texted that adorable 22 year old that had his tongue in my mouth that I had a sore throat, I might have strep, did he give it to me? Did I give it to him? If he had a sore throat he should probably see his Dr. I get back a text that says “you are close to me”, (geographically) “want to have lunch?” It was a thursday afternoon. I asked him, what about work? Everyday life responsibilities? He was sure he could come up with something to make it work. I tell him I am sick, and he still wants to see me. Drop everything and see me. I was insanely flattered and terribly uncomfortable by it all. My ex wouldn’t even pause the PVR’ed sports program to spend time with me. No way Goldy could or would be able to clear an afternoon for me. This guy must think I have a magical vagina. Or maybe the power is in the labia? Maybe this is how you are supposed to be treated in the beginning of a relationship? I think I had some of that waayyyy back at the start with my ex? I must have. So if I am looking for a man who works or lives in another town so I have more time to myself, maybe I should just take the time to myself? Hoooo, lightbulb! And start off slowwwwww. Glacier slow, dates, breakfast dates are the best for seeing someone you really like. It sets the tone for the rest of your day. And I really like going out for breakfast.
I did have a few dates lined up, remnants from the initial flood of POF messages. One I forgot to call… I was a little flustered after a meeting. I should message him tonight, completely forgot about him, or maybe I just leave it alone, I did forget about him. Another texted me to see if we could push back our meet time a bit, I agreed, and then he was late. Not excessively late, a couple minutes. But that was enough. My time is valuable, and he had already used up 30 min by pushing back the time. At 2 minutes after I put my bag in the car, sent him a text message that I had things to do, and saw him pull into the parking lot. He jumped out and apologized for being late, I said it was no problem as I actually had quite a lot to do, and a date would put me behind. Maybe we could re schedule. I was waffling between sticking to my plan to bail or staying, he was cute. Pictures were recent, and we have had some great conversations via text. He is funny, and Indian? From India, or somewhere middle eastern. I have always had a bit of a thing for that caramel skin, and beards, I like beards. I like to look at them at least, those dark men, I don’t agree with how many of those cultures treat women. But is our culture any better, really? Rape, violence and discrimination is wide spread here too. Anyways… cute, and personable. He apologized again, gave me a hug, kind of scooped me up off the side walk so just one toe was left on the ground. We chatted a couple minutes and I stuck to my guns and left. No man likes a girl who is a doormat, he was late. I would give him another chance, if he was willing to work for it.
He hugged me again, I think just wanted to press against my boobs. But, I’ll take the action. And I hopped back in my car, he called after me, “Those shoes are great” Not sure when he had the time to give me an up-down. He texted me 4 minutes later, He was again sorry for being late, and my profile pictures had done me no justice. I was far prettier in real life. Oh… he is good at this! Exceeding expectations, kinda my thing. We have rescheduled for next week, but I feel like he just sees me as a sexual object. As flattering as that is, I don’t need the soulless banging that goes along with being a sexual object. It is neither fulfilling or healthy. Maybe after more that a few minutes together I’ll have a better idea.
I haven’t gotten any “dick pics” from this batch of dates. I have gotten a handful of artful bare torso-chest-lower abdominals. One guy who works up north is aching to send me a cock shot, but I have told him I do not want them. Keep a little mystery buddy… and again, no doubt he finds me attractive, and likely a sexual object. I refuse to reciprocate sexy pics, sending him scenery, or dorky face making shots, but he is relentless. Maybe desperate is abetter word. Hahahahaha. He was telling me that he was quite happy with the “inches” he had, I replied that it didn’t really matter, I hadn’t measured but was pretty sure I had an average sized vagina. I didn’t need any special equipment specs. I don’t think he appreciated the obvious humour and dry sarcasm of that comment. And for the record I didn’t give him my phone number, he had it from last fall when we went on a date. I had sabotaged the date a bit, or MrNRN had, and I felt like the guy was looking for a “2 week contract girl”. Look at me… called it…
I bar tended a wedding last night. I had so much fun, My friend from high school got married and asked If I would tend the festivities, I was an expert after all, bartending my way thru bartending. I was excited, and hopeful there might be a couple single men! It was more of a seeing old friends night, which is far more fun. Really great to catch up a bit, and it felt good to pour drinks, I do enjoy drunk people. One guy was hanging around the bar- flirting a bit, likely more than a “bit” if I actually noticed it happening? The grooms dad (or step dad?) was at the bar demanding we guess his age, I guessed it, and I asked him to guess mine. He said 26-28? I laughed, no, I was 34. The flirty guy says “that is a bold face LIE”. No, I went to high school with the bride. Technically 33 for another month. Mr flirty is 27. He made himself scarce after that. Hahaha. Maybe its my magical vagina that keeps me looking young.

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The King of Richter

My friend K is pretty great. I was reading a blog called “Bad with men”- Danna Norris who may be my new hero. She blogged about the 71 internet dates she went on. One of her blogs she mentions a guy friend, who has this great girlfriend, and always makes her feel better about herself. I have one of those, A guy who when I tell him I am not as hot as I used to be… he looks at me and says “What’s wrong with the mirrors at your house? You have fun-house mirrors? There are regular ones here, go look at yourself.” That is my friend K.
Our parents were friends when we were kids, acquaintances I guess. I remember once my mom telling me they going over to the house, and did I want to come? I was 12? Somewhere around that, and I asked her, “is K going to be there??” likely it induced an eye roll from my mother, and some remark that I should stay away from that boy. I did, stay away from him, he was a bit of a trouble maker, or hung out with some trouble makers. In my teens I would see him around, but my mom said to stay away from him. And I did. I always had a crush on him tho. Tall, dark, blue eyes, mechanically inclined. Smart, and funny.
In our 20’s we kept running into each other, out and around town. I drove him home one night, and he puked all the way home, it was a long trip pulling over every 20 min. He found a flower in his vomiting and picked it for me… so sweet. As usual I was obtuse, driving a boy home from the bar, with no idea he might want to make out with me. And I mean how can a girl say no after the intimate experience of seeing someone puke their guts out for 75 min? Hahah… I helped him into his house, and put him to bed, and then left, taking advantage of drunk guys is like making out with really young guys….oh… shit…
I didn’t see K after that night, I started seeing my ex shortly after, and K started seeing someone too. The first time my ex and I broke up, I was out with Cherise and some girls for a drink. We were at a pub downtown. I was sad, tender, and had forgotten how to flirt, sound familiar? One of the girls said “that guy over there keeps looking at you” I look back, it’s K. there with some guys, but just on his way out. I go over to say hi, and we chat for a bit, he is living in town again, went to trade school, recently single, I’m in town too, still bartending, recently single too (sigh). Can he have my number? Of course!
We start text messaging, it was the new thing, he calls me here and there, we hang out. I’m still holding onto my ex, and not looking for a new relationship, but K becomes my substitute boyfriend. Night out with the girls? K meets us out. Rented a movie, K comes over to watch it with me. Feeling low? K makes me tea and hands me tissues. My birthday, K not only comes with the girls bowling, but then pays the bill. I think he’s being extra sweet and kind and supportive, but realize now, he probably wanted to make out with me.
By this point I have been working on things with my ex, he’s asked me to comeback, but I hate my job and decide to put my life on pause, throw my junk in storage, head to calgary, move in with my brother. K tells me not to go. I can move in with him, if I cook dinner and clean the house I can live rent free. I feel like I would be taking advantage of his kindness, really I have a problem letting anyone take care of me. We talk about dating, generally not about us specifically, I am still working on things with my ex, and K is online dating. I am a girlfriend kind of girl. He wants nothing serious. He is a red sock, I’m a black one. We just don’t match.
He comes to my going away party (my ex does not, not sure he was invited) and once again tells me to not go. I came home to visit every couple of months, and we would usually meet, tea or breakfast, if we had a “girls night” K would be there. He met a girl, and was dating exclusively her.
I decide to move back, I have a great job offer, and my Ex has promised a whole new world, different this time…
I go for breakfast with Cherise, and K. We chat, how’s the new GF? What’s new and exciting?How’s Calgary? I tell him I’m coming home. He lights right up… Where am I going to live!?? I cringe a little, I know he won’t be thrilled. I’m moving back in with my ex. I swear to you just by the look on his face I could tell he wanted to reach across the table and slap me. Or shake me. why why why why?……
Once I was home, we still hung out here and there, girls nights weren’t complete without K, and we went and did stuff my ex had no interest in. My ex probably should have been jealous of K. I met K’s girlfriend. I didn’t want to like her, despite being in a relationship with someone else, I felt possessive of him. Kind of messed up actually. I had a relationship husband type and a boyfriend. Although it was entirely activity based, and we didn’t make out, was I emotionally cheating? Isn’t that worse? I meet her one morning for breakfast, and she was LOVELY. Sweet, funny, bubbly, reminds me of my friend Lib. Dammit… I wanted to hate her. I couldn’t. K and I didn’t spend much time together for a couple years, it was apparent to me, he wasnt a fan of my ex, and makes sense as he had been there countless times I had been disappointed, and was heartbroken or crying.
When My ex and I did break up and he moved out. I texted K 4 simple words. “You told me so.”
He called me and made it clear that he was sorry, not that I was single, but that I was going thru this all… again. We hung out a little more often, but I felt I needed to prove to his girlfriend I liked her, and was not trying to steal him. I am so fortunate that she was cool, not everyone would be with your boyfriend taking another girl to dinner, or have her come over and bake cookies, and watch a movie while you are out of town. She is amazing.
When K asked his girlfriend to marry him… I already knew, he had divulged his plan, and shown me the ring. I was so excited for them, and aching to hear about how it went. She said yes… I adore her, and he has loved and supported me in a way I would never have imagined possible.
He listens and gives me his honest and manly opinion of things. He makes me feel better about myself, “fuck those guys that don’t call, they are probably homosexual.” Advice about goldylocks, and most other dates lately. The guy who made me feel dumb, K said I should have stood up and said “you can’t put your penis in my college degree” and stormed out (you tube “show me your genitals”). When I told him I was maybe too intense, and should just date, casually, and sleep with a lot of dudes. You know so they could chip away at my intensity, losing a little with each one…He replied “I don’t think so. So you want to die a little each time? That sounds awful and sad.” HAHAHA… yes… it does. I don’t know what I would do without him…

why not me?

When we broke up, actually, when he broke up with me, I asked my last boyfriend to show me the respect of telling me when he started seeing someone new. Why? Because I am a masochist that enjoys pain and suffering. Maybe. Because I enjoy being the one left holding my heart in my hand? Probably. I hoped that when he figured out what he wanted, it would be me, and there wouldn’t be another girl. Yes. That one. I pick the last one Alex…
This man is great, not my type physically, but everything he is and stands for is appealing. Devoted Dad, responsible, great driver, employed adult, loves his mother, close to his siblings, funny, smart, sweet, handy, personable, clean and affectionate. Made me feel respected and attractive, despite being away for weeks at a time he gave me more attention than I had gotten in a decade. I didn’t see him much, and really, didn’t know him well, of the 4ish months we were “dating” he was away at work for 3 of them.
I wasn’t in a good place, he was my band-aid. I needed stitches. I had old infected wounds that I hadn’t dealt with from my decade long relationship. A relationship started with drama, strife, and intense desire. A relationship ended by estrangement and neglect, of each other and ourselves. I had been picking at my wounds, covering them with dates, exercise, food, work, any distraction. I tried to convince myself that they were healed, but I was lying. They were still bleeding.
Despite needing to address my issues I clung to my new relationship, I wasn’t getting my needs met, but that wasn’t a new feeling. I jumped into classic behaviour, over giving, putting myself last, making excuses for feeling neglected and trying to take care of him. I would be better than last time, I wouldn’t ruin this relationship too. I would try harder.
He didn’t feel a “spark”, there were a million things he liked about me, but… I was amazing, and I deserved better than he could give me, (yes I agree, cliche, and we both knew it). Out of a marriage around the same length as mine, we both had wounds that hadn’t healed. He said he didn’t know what he wanted. Okay. I can’t give you what you want, be what you want if you don’t know what that is. Completely disregarding the fact, I should be more concerned with me and what I wanted than him and what he wanted, but I would learn that later, after a half a dozen therapy sessions and a shelf of self help books.
In the months that followed our break up, we would still text, see each other here and there, he was injured and I went to visit him a few times while he was laid up. I was doing deep, and painful work to clean and stitch those old wounds, Trying to figure out what I wanted, who I was, where I had gone the last 10 years? What were my patterns, how could I change? I tried to convince myself we were friends. I really like him, we are friends, but not so secretly I was hopeful he would come back to me. Wake up one morning clear from the baggage of his last relationship and realize I am a rare find, and that life is better with me.
He text messaged me last week to hang out. He always responds to texts, but rarely lately had he initiated them. I was realizing that me waiting, pacing the hall outside his door wouldn’t make him want to let me in. I was contemplating dating, had written my profile and entertained the notion of rolling the dice to try to find someone else I liked. Had even lined up a couple coffee dates. He came over after a lack-luster date, but was it dull because I was looking forward to my time with him? I know I adore this man already, we always have lots to talk about, have a great time. Who knows. Maybe I sabotaged myself, like I said I was trying to keep my place in that book, hoping…
We sat for a couple hours, laid in my room and chatted, What had I been doing, how was he recovering, history, future, no subject matter is ever off limits and I value his take on things.
I tell him I was on a casual date, with his physiotherapist oddly enough, but I didn’t think I was what he was looking for, he tells me he is seeing someone too. My stomach does a quick flip into a knot, I feel myself start to turn green, like the Incredible Hulk, but more slowly. I am jealous. I make an effort to breathe. In and out, don’t cry… come on Holley, hold it together. You knew this, saw the playpen set up in his spare room last time you visited, was there when she sent him stuff in the hospital, you knew, tried not to notice, but you knew…
Breathe in and out, and I ask him to tell me about his new girlfriend. He corrects me that they are just seeing each other, but I don’t understand what the difference is. She has a 3 year old. Now I am extra jealous she has kid time and his time. Breathe in and out… I start to dissect why not me? Is it because I didn’t need him? Does he need to be needed? Was I too available, too accommodating? Probably. He says he seems to like her more as they spend time together, so he started to like me less as we saw each other? I was probably too intense, I am intense… put too much pressure on the relationship, I squeezed it out… Breathe in and out, he did not say he liked you less as time went on you crazy broad… breathe. Fuck. He obviously still likes you and enjoys your company as he is here right now. And you are the one who agreed to be friends, even if it was a thinly veiled attempt at getting a do-over. I know I wouldn’t be okay with just seeing someone, I don’t even know what that means. I have turned down relationships with amazing men because I was the girl able to remain friends, and be honest that we were not looking for the same thing. My friend K is a perfect example, we dated, we had an intimate friendship that went no further because he didn’t want to commit, and I didn’t want less than a commitment. I was explaining my heart wrenching eve to K and telling him my last boyfriend didn’t know what he wanted, but was seeing someone new. K looked at me, put his arm around my chair and smiled. He said, “No, he knows what he wants, has a preconceived idea about what he thinks he wants, it just isn’t you. Don’t take this wrong, he is an idiot, you are fantastic, and he likely doesn’t want to hurt you. But it may never be you.”
Maybe he doesn’t know what he wants, maybe he never will. Maybe it will be me. Maybe K is right,and it’s just not me, maybe, maybe maybe…
But in the meantime I’ll be okay, comforted by the hope, someday, for someone, it will be me.

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