There are two kinds of men: those who talk dirty, and those who don't.
Those who don't aren't necessarily lacking in sass, they just seem to respect women (and when I say women, I mean me) a little bit more than to go right for the "when are we getting naked?"
That or they try and seriously can't pull it off, and you almost wish they'd go back to their pocket protector days and stay there.
And then there are those that go right into the smut. Sometimes clever, sometimes a little covert slip of naughty, and sometimes obtusely grotesque...the latter is a huge turnoff.
I was talking to a guy friend of mine last night who is currently out of town. He met a girl randomly in a store the other day and they've been texting ever since. What started out with some very cute "nice to meet you" and "glad I bumped into you" sweetness, turned into "I knew I should have gone in for the kiss" (that's him: semi clean), "I like where your head is at," (that's her: mmm...borderline), and "maybe I'll extend my stay" (that's him: you're implying the nasty).
While still harmless, can I sound prudey for a moment and say, YOU'VE ONLY KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR FIVE MINUTES! LITERALLY!
All that for the ultimate hopes of a home run. And he's not a bad looking bloke. He doesn't need to resort to text sex.
Hmm...
Over the years I've been on the receiving end of a fair amount of dirty talk. But lately, a few fellows I've been talking to and half-ass dating, have dipped their toes in these said dirty waters with a few remarks, but I feel like if I cater to it or respond positively then I'm endorsing it.
I'm not opposed to the occasional smutty banter, but I assume Mr. Lobster would have a more sincere interest and express it on a mature level...at least initially.
Don't get me wrong, I, like any other girl, want to feel desirable and sexy. And when words are more accessible than actions, dirty talk is definitely a good way. But if actually talking isn't in the cards at the moment - if you're in the middle of a meeting or you sit in a fairly open-concept office, is texting the next best thing??
Granted it's definitely better than Facebook sex.
And if something like that does make you crack a smile and long for the next time you can see each other, then I'm all for it.
I just think if you haven't even had a date yet, it may be too early. Even after one date, I'd say hold off.
But like I said, I'm part prude...
I'd wait until the third date.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
JDate Etiquette
Okay, so I tried the above-mentioned website several years ago and disaster is a very nice way of describing my experience.
A combination of verbally abusive dudes who can't even handle the words "I will give you a call later"- it had to be now, and an odd melange of Jewish riff-raff.
I think the most entertaining wrath I suffered was from the bug-eyed bugger who wooed and cooed for days and when I had to reschedule the date he replied with something like "If I was really interested in you don't you think I would have called?" He even went so far as to make an "old lady" comment.
I can't remember that bit word-for-word at this point, and if I can't quote correctly, I don't quote at all.
What is important to note here is, I never gave him my number. He gave me his. I didn't call him because he was four years younger than me and acted like he was still a pre-pubescent, girl-hating little boy.
At the other end of the JDate spectrum were the two guys I gave more than one date to.
Bachelor #1 - We'll just call him J. J was great at first. Cute, sexy, good talker, great arms. He made me feel beautiful; and he wanted to date me. He'd call me every morning and talked to me for hours. I was between jobs for the first part of our relationship, and even when I started my new job he'd call and we'd talk multiple times throughout the day, never shorter than 30/40 minutes.
But after a while, that's all there was. JUST phone action (and when I say action, I mean we just talked...he'd talk a little dirty, I'd just laugh...it's my thing). We went six weeks without seeing each other, yet he'd still call every day. WHAT IS THAT ABOUT?
Long story short, I randomly bumped into him and we re-kindled things - until two weeks later I felt the same pattern happening again. I was done after that.
Next please!
Bachelor #2 - The second JDate disaster was one of the Michael mistakes (Michael #3). He had the makings of a good guy - nerdy cool, witty, good banter, got my humour, not super good looking but sweet St. Bernard dog kind of endearing cute. He was smart - a cardiac resident; every mother's dream. We got along like peas and carrots.
We worked close by and would see each other everyday, go out at night a few times a week, call every lunch hour. We were barfy cute.
He met my parents, called me while I was on vacation (even spoke to my parents too).
And then...
Well...
You know...
Some good clean fun happened. Well to be honest (so honest I even thought it at the time), it wasn't really good. It was fast, it was grunty, it was really dark, and I didn't know I could bend like that.
(sorry...too much?).
He drove me home like the good boyfriend should, kissed me as I got out of the car, texted me to tell me he got home...
...And then I never heard from him again.
What did I do? Was I...bad???
Two days later I called him when his usual call-me hour, and for the second day in a row, our usual rendez-vous afternoon break time passed without a word. I left a voicemail saying "I don't know if something happened, or you're just super busy, or if you just pulled a super jerk manoeuvre on me. Just a tip for ya: the day after is the ONE day you don't NOT call. You've made me feel really cheap, and you're the last person I expected to make me feel this way."
I said that in my most calm and hurt voice possible. Because I was hurt.
Really...just surprised and hurt!
I wasn't a major smitten kitten, I wasn't screaming "I love you" in the moment, I didn't do anything to send him running. I didn't get it.
He actually called that night but I missed it. He left a message and when I called back I got voicemail. Two days later and still nothing.
That was the first time I ever had an anxiety attack. I woke up and I couldn't breathe. In a panic I called Michael to say "I don't get it. I don't know what went wrong. If I don't hear from you, then I'll know."
And I never heard from him again.
That was Yom Kippur weekend and all I could think "G-D better threaten him to keep his spot in the book of life." I was in shock this had happened.
The next week I bumped into a high school/camp friend. She was finishing med school and was telling me where she was doing her latest rotation. I happened to say to her "Oh I was just dating someone there." She asked me his name, I told her, and her face went blank...
"Me too!" she said.
The lights dimmed, yoga was starting. We just looked at each other and went to our mats.
55 minutes later..."Namaste" and we ran to each other to get our respective scoops.
Here it was. Michael met me before her, but I was into moron J (as above) and then he met her. He and I got back in touch one fine August day, and that was the day he dumped her. Literally dumped.
She was all but planning the wedding while he was getting into things with me. One month later he called her to try and go out again - quelle surprise...I happened to be on vacation; the same vacation he called me on to say hi.
At the time this girl and I lived down the street from each other. You'd naturally think he would have thought of one while picking up the other.
He took us on the same dates.
Fed us the same shmaltzy lines.
The only difference was, he made us feel like nothing in two very different ways.
I never cried over him after I spoke to her that night.
I did however, lose all my faith in men at that very moment.
As I told all my friends this story, they spread the word around to others. Amazingly, lots of other girls who he had slept with and never called again, came out of the woodwork.
It's safe to say, I had a good hand in outing him and thereby forcing him to go undercover on JDate. It wasn't long until the majority of the Jewish female population had heard about him and he couldn't get any more dates.
He wonders why an irate girl chased him around Yorkdale mall. Not me...I only know about that because it was one of his "girls are crazy because" first date stories. What I thought was a hilarious tale, I now thought was completely understandable.
Anyway, the next guy I dated didn't get to know the real me. He got a very tense, semi-shy, eager-to-please girl with no opinion of her own and a fear of sex (or rather what happens after it).
Several relationships and four years later I'm debating...do I go back on the big J?
I caved and I tried the other night.
I go for the live chat, then move to msn (big steps here by the way). And then the guy sent me his picture.
Um...
My heart definitely didn't skip a beat.
So I ask you what is the proper etiquette here? Do I simply excuse myself from the situation (as I did) blaming it on a phone call or a pending tornado? Keep him on the msn-only track and eventually block him? I certainly don't feel compelled to share what I look like with most of these men.
Or...do I go out on a date with every shlump that asks? (I mean it would translate into some pretty entertaining blog posts).
I vote for A or B.
I'm done with the shlumps. I'm waiting for Jude Law.
A combination of verbally abusive dudes who can't even handle the words "I will give you a call later"- it had to be now, and an odd melange of Jewish riff-raff.
I think the most entertaining wrath I suffered was from the bug-eyed bugger who wooed and cooed for days and when I had to reschedule the date he replied with something like "If I was really interested in you don't you think I would have called?" He even went so far as to make an "old lady" comment.
I can't remember that bit word-for-word at this point, and if I can't quote correctly, I don't quote at all.
What is important to note here is, I never gave him my number. He gave me his. I didn't call him because he was four years younger than me and acted like he was still a pre-pubescent, girl-hating little boy.
At the other end of the JDate spectrum were the two guys I gave more than one date to.
Bachelor #1 - We'll just call him J. J was great at first. Cute, sexy, good talker, great arms. He made me feel beautiful; and he wanted to date me. He'd call me every morning and talked to me for hours. I was between jobs for the first part of our relationship, and even when I started my new job he'd call and we'd talk multiple times throughout the day, never shorter than 30/40 minutes.
But after a while, that's all there was. JUST phone action (and when I say action, I mean we just talked...he'd talk a little dirty, I'd just laugh...it's my thing). We went six weeks without seeing each other, yet he'd still call every day. WHAT IS THAT ABOUT?
Long story short, I randomly bumped into him and we re-kindled things - until two weeks later I felt the same pattern happening again. I was done after that.
Next please!
Bachelor #2 - The second JDate disaster was one of the Michael mistakes (Michael #3). He had the makings of a good guy - nerdy cool, witty, good banter, got my humour, not super good looking but sweet St. Bernard dog kind of endearing cute. He was smart - a cardiac resident; every mother's dream. We got along like peas and carrots.
We worked close by and would see each other everyday, go out at night a few times a week, call every lunch hour. We were barfy cute.
He met my parents, called me while I was on vacation (even spoke to my parents too).
And then...
Well...
You know...
Some good clean fun happened. Well to be honest (so honest I even thought it at the time), it wasn't really good. It was fast, it was grunty, it was really dark, and I didn't know I could bend like that.
(sorry...too much?).
He drove me home like the good boyfriend should, kissed me as I got out of the car, texted me to tell me he got home...
...And then I never heard from him again.
What did I do? Was I...bad???
Two days later I called him when his usual call-me hour, and for the second day in a row, our usual rendez-vous afternoon break time passed without a word. I left a voicemail saying "I don't know if something happened, or you're just super busy, or if you just pulled a super jerk manoeuvre on me. Just a tip for ya: the day after is the ONE day you don't NOT call. You've made me feel really cheap, and you're the last person I expected to make me feel this way."
I said that in my most calm and hurt voice possible. Because I was hurt.
Really...just surprised and hurt!
I wasn't a major smitten kitten, I wasn't screaming "I love you" in the moment, I didn't do anything to send him running. I didn't get it.
He actually called that night but I missed it. He left a message and when I called back I got voicemail. Two days later and still nothing.
That was the first time I ever had an anxiety attack. I woke up and I couldn't breathe. In a panic I called Michael to say "I don't get it. I don't know what went wrong. If I don't hear from you, then I'll know."
And I never heard from him again.
That was Yom Kippur weekend and all I could think "G-D better threaten him to keep his spot in the book of life." I was in shock this had happened.
The next week I bumped into a high school/camp friend. She was finishing med school and was telling me where she was doing her latest rotation. I happened to say to her "Oh I was just dating someone there." She asked me his name, I told her, and her face went blank...
"Me too!" she said.
The lights dimmed, yoga was starting. We just looked at each other and went to our mats.
55 minutes later..."Namaste" and we ran to each other to get our respective scoops.
Here it was. Michael met me before her, but I was into moron J (as above) and then he met her. He and I got back in touch one fine August day, and that was the day he dumped her. Literally dumped.
She was all but planning the wedding while he was getting into things with me. One month later he called her to try and go out again - quelle surprise...I happened to be on vacation; the same vacation he called me on to say hi.
At the time this girl and I lived down the street from each other. You'd naturally think he would have thought of one while picking up the other.
He took us on the same dates.
Fed us the same shmaltzy lines.
The only difference was, he made us feel like nothing in two very different ways.
I never cried over him after I spoke to her that night.
I did however, lose all my faith in men at that very moment.
As I told all my friends this story, they spread the word around to others. Amazingly, lots of other girls who he had slept with and never called again, came out of the woodwork.
It's safe to say, I had a good hand in outing him and thereby forcing him to go undercover on JDate. It wasn't long until the majority of the Jewish female population had heard about him and he couldn't get any more dates.
He wonders why an irate girl chased him around Yorkdale mall. Not me...I only know about that because it was one of his "girls are crazy because" first date stories. What I thought was a hilarious tale, I now thought was completely understandable.
Anyway, the next guy I dated didn't get to know the real me. He got a very tense, semi-shy, eager-to-please girl with no opinion of her own and a fear of sex (or rather what happens after it).
Several relationships and four years later I'm debating...do I go back on the big J?
I caved and I tried the other night.
I go for the live chat, then move to msn (big steps here by the way). And then the guy sent me his picture.
Um...
My heart definitely didn't skip a beat.
So I ask you what is the proper etiquette here? Do I simply excuse myself from the situation (as I did) blaming it on a phone call or a pending tornado? Keep him on the msn-only track and eventually block him? I certainly don't feel compelled to share what I look like with most of these men.
Or...do I go out on a date with every shlump that asks? (I mean it would translate into some pretty entertaining blog posts).
I vote for A or B.
I'm done with the shlumps. I'm waiting for Jude Law.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Going Green
I have to admit, I haven't fully embraced the concept of environmentally friendly; I barely recycle. But I must admit, the alchie in me is quite enjoying LCBO's Enviro Chic movement.
I always say I am pro-global warming, because I hate the awful Canadian winter weather. However, I recently realized "warming" had nothing to do with the definition of the term, but alluded more to extreme weather conditions. Here I thought we'd be replacing pine trees with palm trees.
Anyway, I do what I can were I can. I am not - and doubt I ever will be - to wear hemp clothing, but I do appreciate a good Soyla product (bless those Lulu folk).
And as a single girl, it's not worth the joke or the gas to drive a Hummer, but I am a fan of the tonka truck varieties. My favourite is the Ford Escape, and luckily, it comes in a Hybrid format. I would also give the Prius a whirl when my Jetta lease is up (two years and eight months...and counting).
I mostly use Method cleaning products at home. But for those times when I look to brands I grew up with, I support some of their quasi-eco efforts. I figure they are trying to do their bit -cut them some slack Greenpeace!
Check out http://www.futurefriendlybrands.ca/ and you'll see good ol' retro Tide with a pretty new makeover in company with some other basics.
All in all, here's my advice:
I always say I am pro-global warming, because I hate the awful Canadian winter weather. However, I recently realized "warming" had nothing to do with the definition of the term, but alluded more to extreme weather conditions. Here I thought we'd be replacing pine trees with palm trees.
Anyway, I do what I can were I can. I am not - and doubt I ever will be - to wear hemp clothing, but I do appreciate a good Soyla product (bless those Lulu folk).
And as a single girl, it's not worth the joke or the gas to drive a Hummer, but I am a fan of the tonka truck varieties. My favourite is the Ford Escape, and luckily, it comes in a Hybrid format. I would also give the Prius a whirl when my Jetta lease is up (two years and eight months...and counting).
I mostly use Method cleaning products at home. But for those times when I look to brands I grew up with, I support some of their quasi-eco efforts. I figure they are trying to do their bit -cut them some slack Greenpeace!
Check out http://www.futurefriendlybrands.ca/ and you'll see good ol' retro Tide with a pretty new makeover in company with some other basics.
All in all, here's my advice:
- shower instead of taking a bath
- turn the lights off when you're not in the room
- turn on your A/C when only when you're home
Get out there and enjoy the day.
Don't be stuck to your computer like I am.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Hot Docs - Not Just a Film Festival...Every Mother's Dream!
I love this time of year.
Spring has sprung.
People come out of hibernation...it's game on for everyone.
But what I really love is the Hot Docs Film Festival.
It's the not-so-shallow side of me that enjoys a great movie about something real. Don't get me wrong, I'm counting the days until I can get "Carried Away" with the SATC movie on May 30th.
Unfortunately the festival really gets moving over Passover, which kicks off tomorrow night.
It looks like my social calendar will only permit one screening: Stalags: Holocaust
and Pornography in Israel but I would have loved to have seen the Beetles/Cirque Du Soleil doc entitled All Together Now.
Other goodies I'd like to hear about:
Song Sung Blue
A Road to Mecca
So whoever reads this (there seem to be a few of you) and who go to the festival, please let me know what you saw and how you liked it!
Happy Passover, and enjoy the weather!
Spring has sprung.
People come out of hibernation...it's game on for everyone.
But what I really love is the Hot Docs Film Festival.
It's the not-so-shallow side of me that enjoys a great movie about something real. Don't get me wrong, I'm counting the days until I can get "Carried Away" with the SATC movie on May 30th.
Unfortunately the festival really gets moving over Passover, which kicks off tomorrow night.
It looks like my social calendar will only permit one screening: Stalags: Holocaust
and Pornography in Israel but I would have loved to have seen the Beetles/Cirque Du Soleil doc entitled All Together Now.
Other goodies I'd like to hear about:
Song Sung Blue
A Road to Mecca
So whoever reads this (there seem to be a few of you) and who go to the festival, please let me know what you saw and how you liked it!
Happy Passover, and enjoy the weather!
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Every Girl Has Her Regimen
My fascination with cosmetics started when I was a little girl and I'd watch my grandmother (I called her Nanny) put on her blue eyeliner through this gold and silver re-usable dispenser.
It seemed so exotic to me.
When she passed away - granted I was only 10 or 11 years old at the time - all I wanted was that dispenser. Today as I approach 30, that is still the only thing I need to remember her. Well...that, those sesame stick snacks and maybe some candied ginger.
I couldn't wait to wear makeup. And I went full throttle only two short years later.
I was there for the birth of MAC Cosmetics. I was a loyal customer at their Carlton Street location, which was also home to MAC Hair. So as my mom, sister, and I made regular trips to get our hair done, our nails polished and our various body parts waxed, we lingered around the MAC makeup counter.
At my grade eight graduation I went for the soft eyeshadow and the then trendy brown lipstick; and by the time I graduated high school I looked like I was prom-ready everyday. I spent extra time each morning with my four colour eye palette collection, my Pink Glaze lipstick and Pinch O' Peach blush.
To this day I still have some of those items. Luckily my MAC cosmetics really don't seem to expire.
Since then I've become a significant MAC whore. I call it brand loyal.
But lately I have started to incorporate other items into my repertoire, that I have proudly displayed in my "medicine cabinet" and readily accessible in my adorable Melissa Beth cosmetic bag:
It seemed so exotic to me.
When she passed away - granted I was only 10 or 11 years old at the time - all I wanted was that dispenser. Today as I approach 30, that is still the only thing I need to remember her. Well...that, those sesame stick snacks and maybe some candied ginger.
I couldn't wait to wear makeup. And I went full throttle only two short years later.
I was there for the birth of MAC Cosmetics. I was a loyal customer at their Carlton Street location, which was also home to MAC Hair. So as my mom, sister, and I made regular trips to get our hair done, our nails polished and our various body parts waxed, we lingered around the MAC makeup counter.
At my grade eight graduation I went for the soft eyeshadow and the then trendy brown lipstick; and by the time I graduated high school I looked like I was prom-ready everyday. I spent extra time each morning with my four colour eye palette collection, my Pink Glaze lipstick and Pinch O' Peach blush.
To this day I still have some of those items. Luckily my MAC cosmetics really don't seem to expire.
Since then I've become a significant MAC whore. I call it brand loyal.
But lately I have started to incorporate other items into my repertoire, that I have proudly displayed in my "medicine cabinet" and readily accessible in my adorable Melissa Beth cosmetic bag:
- Jo Malone Nectarine Blossom and Honey bath gel, body cream, and cologne
- Clinique Black Honey Almost Lipstick
- Smashbox under eye brightener
- Rosebud Perfume Co. Rosebud Salve - great on lips!
- Ahava Matifying Moisturizer - let's be honest, all Ahava products are incredible! Try the hand and foot cream to keep you crack-free all winter long.
And in the shower are:
- Olay Body Wash Plus Body Butter Ribbons - smells like berries
- Pretty much the entire Herbal Essences collection - they now all have different scents versus the original gummy bear scent AND the new bottles add lots of bright colour to my Restoration Hardware-ish bathroom
Hopefully one day my daughter (if I ever cave on the idea of having children) or granddaughter will watch me in awe as I go through my high-maintenance beauty regimen.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
The Friendzone
My girlfriend and co-worker who will just be named M for the purposes of this medium, always says to me, "I'm worried about you. You seem to keep putting guys into the friend-zone. It's like your defence or something."
To be honest, I have to partially agree.
While there are a few guys who make it through the gates and into the romance section, I guess it is safe to say some bypass straight to buddy.
It's funny though. I'm not a friend collector. In fact, I'm a chronic deleter of people on Facebook and my cell phone. If I don't talk to you, really don't imagine having any desire or reason to speak with you or see you again, you're deleted. Sorry, but that's the truth. (Note: if I am not keeping your endearing text messages anymore, you're toast).
However, I do have this insatiable desire to make (almost) all my exes into friends. Yes, there are a few that I'd rather never think of again, but overall the break-ups are sad - and mostly for the this-is-great-but-I-don't-think- we'd-work-married reason than anything else.
So...just because we won't get hitched does that mean we can't be....friends?
Maybe.
Probably.
As previously promised, I will get into the Michael series in later blogs, I'm just trying to figure out how to introduce the topic and in a tasteful manner. But in terms of this post, I'd be remiss not to mention Michael 2003 and Michael 2007. They were the only times I've ever NOT wanted to keep any flame alive - friend or otherwise.
With M2003, I was exhausted from the two-plus-year relationship. Constant fighting, constant crying (on his part), and terrible TERRIBLE...'playtime' (this is a public forum, I will keep this as clean as possible). When I say terrible I mean about 45 to 60 seconds...max! And if that painful minute didn't happen, I was the victim of a severe temper tantrum.
Enough said...more to come later.
When 2003 and I were finally done, we were REALLY done. Like a turkey that had been badly burned and overcooked there was no moisture left, the flesh had gone brittle and it immediately went into the garbage...no carcass left to make soup from DONE.
Michael 2007 was sweet. A liar, but sweet. I never trusted a word that came out of his mouth, but as I usually am complacent about things, I was hanging in there. I just couldn't be bothered to break up with someone at that point. I was starting to get into the thick of writing my Master's thesis and I just didn't need the headache.
Eventually weekly fights ensued and we mutually ended it.
But he said, "You've become one of my closest friends. I tell you things I don't tell anyone else." I sat there thinking "Honey, you're not the only one who tells me shit...get in line." What I actually said was, "You see...I've been you. I've wanted to be friends. But I don't need anymore friends." He encouraged me to take my time on that decision, but I knew.
Alas he still has a spot in my Facebook friend roster, but we don't communicate regularly.
It was only last week that I realized I've started to master the Friendzone though. When Bachelor March/April 2008 works constant late hours, dates are few and far between but phone-time is superb, I feel the spark that wasn't there on the first date will never ignite. He's sweet and funny, yet without umph, he's going to el f-zono (that's Spanish for Friendzone).
On top of that Michael 2006, who in a twisted way ended up being a dear friend, said to me as he kissed me and got out of my car Saturday night, "Wow! It's great to be your gay girlfriend who you make out with once in a while!"
I laughed hysterically, but truth be told - that pretty much sums me up.
I'll date you. I'll love you. I'll cry over you. And when I'm over it, I'll make you my best friend. I'll tell you all my crazy/dirty/funny/pathetic stories - romantic or otherwise - and maybe, just maybe, we'll slip up and have a little un-friendly fun.
To be honest, I have to partially agree.
While there are a few guys who make it through the gates and into the romance section, I guess it is safe to say some bypass straight to buddy.
It's funny though. I'm not a friend collector. In fact, I'm a chronic deleter of people on Facebook and my cell phone. If I don't talk to you, really don't imagine having any desire or reason to speak with you or see you again, you're deleted. Sorry, but that's the truth. (Note: if I am not keeping your endearing text messages anymore, you're toast).
However, I do have this insatiable desire to make (almost) all my exes into friends. Yes, there are a few that I'd rather never think of again, but overall the break-ups are sad - and mostly for the this-is-great-but-I-don't-think- we'd-work-married reason than anything else.
So...just because we won't get hitched does that mean we can't be....friends?
Maybe.
Probably.
As previously promised, I will get into the Michael series in later blogs, I'm just trying to figure out how to introduce the topic and in a tasteful manner. But in terms of this post, I'd be remiss not to mention Michael 2003 and Michael 2007. They were the only times I've ever NOT wanted to keep any flame alive - friend or otherwise.
With M2003, I was exhausted from the two-plus-year relationship. Constant fighting, constant crying (on his part), and terrible TERRIBLE...'playtime' (this is a public forum, I will keep this as clean as possible). When I say terrible I mean about 45 to 60 seconds...max! And if that painful minute didn't happen, I was the victim of a severe temper tantrum.
Enough said...more to come later.
When 2003 and I were finally done, we were REALLY done. Like a turkey that had been badly burned and overcooked there was no moisture left, the flesh had gone brittle and it immediately went into the garbage...no carcass left to make soup from DONE.
Michael 2007 was sweet. A liar, but sweet. I never trusted a word that came out of his mouth, but as I usually am complacent about things, I was hanging in there. I just couldn't be bothered to break up with someone at that point. I was starting to get into the thick of writing my Master's thesis and I just didn't need the headache.
Eventually weekly fights ensued and we mutually ended it.
But he said, "You've become one of my closest friends. I tell you things I don't tell anyone else." I sat there thinking "Honey, you're not the only one who tells me shit...get in line." What I actually said was, "You see...I've been you. I've wanted to be friends. But I don't need anymore friends." He encouraged me to take my time on that decision, but I knew.
Alas he still has a spot in my Facebook friend roster, but we don't communicate regularly.
It was only last week that I realized I've started to master the Friendzone though. When Bachelor March/April 2008 works constant late hours, dates are few and far between but phone-time is superb, I feel the spark that wasn't there on the first date will never ignite. He's sweet and funny, yet without umph, he's going to el f-zono (that's Spanish for Friendzone).
On top of that Michael 2006, who in a twisted way ended up being a dear friend, said to me as he kissed me and got out of my car Saturday night, "Wow! It's great to be your gay girlfriend who you make out with once in a while!"
I laughed hysterically, but truth be told - that pretty much sums me up.
I'll date you. I'll love you. I'll cry over you. And when I'm over it, I'll make you my best friend. I'll tell you all my crazy/dirty/funny/pathetic stories - romantic or otherwise - and maybe, just maybe, we'll slip up and have a little un-friendly fun.
Friday, April 11, 2008
For the Love of the Muppets
With all the hype around Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Jason Segel is this year's Seth Rogen. Both are funny, both (now) successful, and both Jewish. Yeah...it always seems to come down to that.
While Sarah Marshall is getting her own dose of incredible PR, there's a more important project in the works: a new Muppet movie (source: Variety Magazine). With Segel at the pen and Nicholas Stoller behind the camera, this is sure to be the funniest, and perhaps dirtiest Muppet movie ever.
In an interview this morning on Mix 99.9, Segel said he wanted to bring it back to the classic tone of the Muppets performing, versus having them in space or some other location where us true Muppet fans know, no Muppet would dare go.
A colleague of mine and I were reminiscing briefly this morning over some Timmy's (him) and Cranberry Juice (me), and we figured this is where the Muppets would be today if they aged with us:
Elmo: rehab for drug and helium abuse
Oscar: working at a seniors residence in the "cheer program"
Bert & Ernie: one would be working a cashiers job at the homewares department of some mid-range department store, the other suffering from some form of colitis or even worse colon cancer
Cookie Monster: in talks with Jenny Craig for spokesperson 2008/2009
Fozzie: head of entertainment in the Poconos
Miss Piggy: still a Diva living off her royalties from the good ol' days. Her diet consists mostly of champagne and frog's legs (it didn't work out with Kermie)
Kermit: competing with David Suzuki for the title of ultimate green spokesperson
Animal: a successful stock broker on Wall Street
Ralph: now suffering from arthritis in his fingers, he's resigned to drinking port to ease the pain and watching The Hills.
Beaker: a speech language pathologist
Bunsen: he invented Viagra
Swedish Chef: a reject from Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares
Gonzo: married, three kids, banker
Waldorf & Statler: Deceased. And those who know me, know I hate to even think this - I love them with all my heart.
I'm sure Jason will have a sunnier view of the Muppets today - I certainly hope he does.
I am forever six years old, loving every Muppet Show/Sesame Street (English & Espanol)/Fraggle moment.
Finally a Jewish guy who knows how to really get me.
While Sarah Marshall is getting her own dose of incredible PR, there's a more important project in the works: a new Muppet movie (source: Variety Magazine). With Segel at the pen and Nicholas Stoller behind the camera, this is sure to be the funniest, and perhaps dirtiest Muppet movie ever.
In an interview this morning on Mix 99.9, Segel said he wanted to bring it back to the classic tone of the Muppets performing, versus having them in space or some other location where us true Muppet fans know, no Muppet would dare go.
A colleague of mine and I were reminiscing briefly this morning over some Timmy's (him) and Cranberry Juice (me), and we figured this is where the Muppets would be today if they aged with us:
Elmo: rehab for drug and helium abuse
Oscar: working at a seniors residence in the "cheer program"
Bert & Ernie: one would be working a cashiers job at the homewares department of some mid-range department store, the other suffering from some form of colitis or even worse colon cancer
Cookie Monster: in talks with Jenny Craig for spokesperson 2008/2009
Fozzie: head of entertainment in the Poconos
Miss Piggy: still a Diva living off her royalties from the good ol' days. Her diet consists mostly of champagne and frog's legs (it didn't work out with Kermie)
Kermit: competing with David Suzuki for the title of ultimate green spokesperson
Animal: a successful stock broker on Wall Street
Ralph: now suffering from arthritis in his fingers, he's resigned to drinking port to ease the pain and watching The Hills.
Beaker: a speech language pathologist
Bunsen: he invented Viagra
Swedish Chef: a reject from Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares
Gonzo: married, three kids, banker
Waldorf & Statler: Deceased. And those who know me, know I hate to even think this - I love them with all my heart.
I'm sure Jason will have a sunnier view of the Muppets today - I certainly hope he does.
I am forever six years old, loving every Muppet Show/Sesame Street (English & Espanol)/Fraggle moment.
Finally a Jewish guy who knows how to really get me.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
The Spectrum of Men
As a (semi) single girl, I'm continually surprised by the different kind of "men" that exist out there in the dating world.
While I mostly date Jewish guys, I have dabbled different pools. I want to review the entire menu before I make my final decision. However, in the pursuit of happily-ever-after, I find myself staying withing the J-group for many reasons (many of which do not need to be addressed here).
Back to the buffet though...
I realized all men - no matter what cultural background - fit on a spectrum, with the bookends ranging from straight to gay and the midpoint metrosexual. In between these markers are colourful combinations of these orientations.
More common are the men who appreciate their Prada and Kiehls. Hey, even the sexiest of rugged men (aka Clive Owen) have "come out" using high-end beauty brands like Lancome. What better incentive for a man to go glam and still feel his twig and berries securely fastened than the Big O (Owen) himself. This type of man is what my friend would call the Hetro-metro - a man who definitely skews towards women, but likes to take care of himself (whether to impress her or himself is unclear). This man can also be found in Banana Republic or any major department store buying a great pair of Sevens or a cashmere crew neck. He confidently orders Grey Goose and knows how to buy a woman nice flowers (note to men: if the flower isn't naturally that shade of royal blue, it isn't meant to be purchased).
Towards the other end of the line is what my same friend calls the Getro-metro. This is the guy who is either gay and cannot come to terms with it, or a lesbian trapped in a man's body and isn't willing to take the transgendered avenue. He appreciates women's habits, choice of wardrobe, and spending time with the gals is his favourite pastime. Everyone around him thinks he's gay, except for those few females who enjoy his company enough to date him (and I assume sleep with him). No one dares to suggest he isn't playing on the right team.
I confidently say I date the Hetero end of the spectrum. This post isn't going to get into quality, manners or common sense of these guys, just their sexual orientation.
None of my bachelors are handy with tools (it's hard enough to find a Jewish man who can change a light bulb or catch a spider), and that's OK with me. I'm simply keen on the boy with good hygiene who can pull off sweats and a baseball hat for those lower key rendez-vous; and other times, knows how to wear good-butt-jeans and a nice sweater, buys me flowers from Teatro Verde, notices when I've got a new special-something on, and above all treats me like a lady.
On that note - happy hump day
While I mostly date Jewish guys, I have dabbled different pools. I want to review the entire menu before I make my final decision. However, in the pursuit of happily-ever-after, I find myself staying withing the J-group for many reasons (many of which do not need to be addressed here).
Back to the buffet though...
I realized all men - no matter what cultural background - fit on a spectrum, with the bookends ranging from straight to gay and the midpoint metrosexual. In between these markers are colourful combinations of these orientations.
More common are the men who appreciate their Prada and Kiehls. Hey, even the sexiest of rugged men (aka Clive Owen) have "come out" using high-end beauty brands like Lancome. What better incentive for a man to go glam and still feel his twig and berries securely fastened than the Big O (Owen) himself. This type of man is what my friend would call the Hetro-metro - a man who definitely skews towards women, but likes to take care of himself (whether to impress her or himself is unclear). This man can also be found in Banana Republic or any major department store buying a great pair of Sevens or a cashmere crew neck. He confidently orders Grey Goose and knows how to buy a woman nice flowers (note to men: if the flower isn't naturally that shade of royal blue, it isn't meant to be purchased).
Towards the other end of the line is what my same friend calls the Getro-metro. This is the guy who is either gay and cannot come to terms with it, or a lesbian trapped in a man's body and isn't willing to take the transgendered avenue. He appreciates women's habits, choice of wardrobe, and spending time with the gals is his favourite pastime. Everyone around him thinks he's gay, except for those few females who enjoy his company enough to date him (and I assume sleep with him). No one dares to suggest he isn't playing on the right team.
I confidently say I date the Hetero end of the spectrum. This post isn't going to get into quality, manners or common sense of these guys, just their sexual orientation.
None of my bachelors are handy with tools (it's hard enough to find a Jewish man who can change a light bulb or catch a spider), and that's OK with me. I'm simply keen on the boy with good hygiene who can pull off sweats and a baseball hat for those lower key rendez-vous; and other times, knows how to wear good-butt-jeans and a nice sweater, buys me flowers from Teatro Verde, notices when I've got a new special-something on, and above all treats me like a lady.
On that note - happy hump day
Friday, April 4, 2008
A Healthy Disdain
The other day a co-worker of mine swiftly shut up another officemate after he gushed for the umpteenth time "Can I tell you how much I love my boyfriend?..."
She simply stated,"How much longer are you going to start sentences like that? I'm telling you right now, you have one more week of it and then it's finished." (Keep in mind he's been dating the guy for six to eight weeks now...we've had our fill).
You don't mess with either of these people. She's a tough cookie, and he's high-strung uber-gay.
I enjoy them both, but you can only take him in small doses.
None of us can really take another second of the gushing. As terrible as this may sound, none of the heterosexuals in the group go on about intimate moments with our dates or significant others; we don't want to hear about his. More importantly, I don't want to hear about his.
Rarely do I like a guy enough after one date to kiss him, I don't need or want to hear that in the five dates he's had this week, he's planked each and every one of them.
Yes, general venting and/or excitement about great dates is accepted and mostly welcomed in the workplace, but geezus...how often can we hear how great sex is with this guy in comparison to the others, and how you just want him to come into bed with you after 'a long day at work.'
Barf.
Those cute and endearing Blackberry messages should stay private.
I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.
Then the female of the two made a great point: "I think it's important to have a healthy disdain for your partner."
What a great term. And how true. We all know relationships aren't perfect, so why pretend? Our collegial relationship will still dictate we be supportive yet remain somewhat removed when/if it all falls apart. By hearing how wonderful time in the romper room is right now, isn't going to make me more sympathetic later.
She simply stated,"How much longer are you going to start sentences like that? I'm telling you right now, you have one more week of it and then it's finished." (Keep in mind he's been dating the guy for six to eight weeks now...we've had our fill).
You don't mess with either of these people. She's a tough cookie, and he's high-strung uber-gay.
I enjoy them both, but you can only take him in small doses.
None of us can really take another second of the gushing. As terrible as this may sound, none of the heterosexuals in the group go on about intimate moments with our dates or significant others; we don't want to hear about his. More importantly, I don't want to hear about his.
Rarely do I like a guy enough after one date to kiss him, I don't need or want to hear that in the five dates he's had this week, he's planked each and every one of them.
Yes, general venting and/or excitement about great dates is accepted and mostly welcomed in the workplace, but geezus...how often can we hear how great sex is with this guy in comparison to the others, and how you just want him to come into bed with you after 'a long day at work.'
Barf.
Those cute and endearing Blackberry messages should stay private.
I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.
Then the female of the two made a great point: "I think it's important to have a healthy disdain for your partner."
What a great term. And how true. We all know relationships aren't perfect, so why pretend? Our collegial relationship will still dictate we be supportive yet remain somewhat removed when/if it all falls apart. By hearing how wonderful time in the romper room is right now, isn't going to make me more sympathetic later.
A healthy dose of bitching unites us all - it is the one thing we all have in common. Blissfully in love or not, it is human nature to find fault in others. It makes us feel better about ourselves, and somehow validates us and these social choices we make.
We all love to complain a bit; we would be boring people without a little negativity. Remember Alec Baldwin on Friends? That's my co-worker about this new relationship. That's annoying.
Mazel tov that you've found someone you like enough to see more than once. But either slip in a little scorn here and there or shut it.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Social Lubricant
I used to be of the opinion that I'd rather eat my calories than drink them.
More than four years ago, when I finally rid myself of Michael #2 (the M-series to come in later posts) and finally felt good about myself, I lost a lot of weight; so in the name of calorie counting, and in turn sobriety, I went "dry" for a few years.
I even got through several torturous dates without so much as a lick of vodka (the lowest calorie choice) or white wine (I learned the hard way not to drink red in public - not just for the teeth staining factor, but also many cute tops have been ruined by red wine mishaps).
However lately, I've come to appreciate the value this social lubricant has in various situations. A first date goes that little bit smoother (even though I'm still not sure I'd want to kiss him); a casual party of a melange of social groups is that much more fun; and patience with an old friend with even older issues, stays tried and true.
Not that I'm promoting alcoholism, I'm not. I adore my liver and make sure to detox is seasonally. I just value the gift of the greater gab booze provides.
Two of my favs:
CAVE DE TURCKHEIM GEWURZTRAMINER RÉSERVE 2005, $ 19.80
CONUNDRUM $ 25.95
Both are available at the LCBO in the Vintages section.
So girls (or in some cases boys), if you're going to come to a party, immediately go to the other side of the room and talk to the person you arrived with - drink up. Come over to the centre of the room where the majority are; you never know, you might have a good time and make some new [facebook] friends.
For those in a one-on-one situation, heed my advice: if after a glass or two you're still thinking thoughts of nausea rather than lust, gracefully exit the situation and move on to the next bachelor.
And re: my comment on patience. I am probably one of the most impatient people around. When asked to do something, I get it done immediately and I expect the same from my staff. I also have zero patience for incompetent drivers, wait staff, and salespeople. If you managed to get a driver's license, learn to use it properly. If you chose either of those above professions, at least do it with style. But when it comes to friends and family I give my heart and soul unconditionally; and in return I expect at least 90 per cent of the same. For them I practice patience.
To the person who I referenced above with the "even older issues" - if you ever decide to read this - I will only lose my patience with you when I unequivocally know your happiness will suffer...and I am starting to lose my patience.
More than four years ago, when I finally rid myself of Michael #2 (the M-series to come in later posts) and finally felt good about myself, I lost a lot of weight; so in the name of calorie counting, and in turn sobriety, I went "dry" for a few years.
I even got through several torturous dates without so much as a lick of vodka (the lowest calorie choice) or white wine (I learned the hard way not to drink red in public - not just for the teeth staining factor, but also many cute tops have been ruined by red wine mishaps).
However lately, I've come to appreciate the value this social lubricant has in various situations. A first date goes that little bit smoother (even though I'm still not sure I'd want to kiss him); a casual party of a melange of social groups is that much more fun; and patience with an old friend with even older issues, stays tried and true.
Not that I'm promoting alcoholism, I'm not. I adore my liver and make sure to detox is seasonally. I just value the gift of the greater gab booze provides.
Two of my favs:
CAVE DE TURCKHEIM GEWURZTRAMINER RÉSERVE 2005, $ 19.80
CONUNDRUM $ 25.95
Both are available at the LCBO in the Vintages section.
So girls (or in some cases boys), if you're going to come to a party, immediately go to the other side of the room and talk to the person you arrived with - drink up. Come over to the centre of the room where the majority are; you never know, you might have a good time and make some new [facebook] friends.
For those in a one-on-one situation, heed my advice: if after a glass or two you're still thinking thoughts of nausea rather than lust, gracefully exit the situation and move on to the next bachelor.
And re: my comment on patience. I am probably one of the most impatient people around. When asked to do something, I get it done immediately and I expect the same from my staff. I also have zero patience for incompetent drivers, wait staff, and salespeople. If you managed to get a driver's license, learn to use it properly. If you chose either of those above professions, at least do it with style. But when it comes to friends and family I give my heart and soul unconditionally; and in return I expect at least 90 per cent of the same. For them I practice patience.
To the person who I referenced above with the "even older issues" - if you ever decide to read this - I will only lose my patience with you when I unequivocally know your happiness will suffer...and I am starting to lose my patience.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Hey Stranger
It has been a while.
I signed up to do this in November, but the commitment-phobe I am couldn't remember to update daily.
But with a little love and support from friends who blog, I am going to give this 'the good ol' college try.'
Not that anyone, at this point is reading this, but for history's sake. I am publicly apologizing.
Probably the first of many times I will do so...
I signed up to do this in November, but the commitment-phobe I am couldn't remember to update daily.
But with a little love and support from friends who blog, I am going to give this 'the good ol' college try.'
Not that anyone, at this point is reading this, but for history's sake. I am publicly apologizing.
Probably the first of many times I will do so...
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