Tag Archives: my life

This is the story of: My Online Dates

I began to dabble in online dating again when I moved to Victoria and realized I wasn’t going to meet many people outside of my social circle, since I did nothing but work and hangout with the same thirteen people. So, I made an online dating profile. Although I was full of shame and possessed a feeling that everyone knew I had done this, just by looking at me, I have to admit my profile was  pretty awesome. I laughed as I wrote it. Then I picked some decent pictures and let it all sort itself out. As much as a control freak can, anyways.

I’m pretty particular about how I go about online dating. I look at the main picture prior to even reading the message (shallow, yes; necessary when you get 50+ messages a day, also yes). Once I look at the picture, I open the message, if it’s a “hey” or a “you’re gorgeous”, I ignore it. If the message is fourteen chapters and has a clear beginning, middle and end, I delete it immediately. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Should the message be just the right size and have a little bit of personality, I read it and respond accordingly. So as you read these stories, remember, these were the cream of the online dating crop, so to speak.

A)     Lies About Everything and I planned to meet at a coffee shop after a couple weeks of texting. He seemed cool, collected and a hard worker. All pluses in my books. On the day of said encounter, I walked into the local coffee shop to meet him. Scanning the crowd for a six foot tall, broad shouldered, scruffy faced, toned,  tanned, Brazilian, Soccer playing, stud of a man (as his profile pictures depicted) I was unpleasantly surprised when a stranger walked up to me and said hello. I assumed he was just a rando trying to vie for my attention. Nope. This was my date. A 5’4, wobbly looking, weak jawed, bad face, Mexican man.  I was actually taken aback and probably gasped a laugh, as is my style when shocked I said “you’re not who I’m meeting” and he said “yeah, I am. I look a little different from my pictures, but we get along so well, let’s grab a coffee”. Nope. If you think it’s ok to start a relationship off on lies as big as your face, then you’re doomed to eternity of online dating.

B)      Lispy and I bonded over a mutual love of a canceled tv show. He seemed sensitive and lovely. He picked me up at my house for our first date (yes, I know, it’s a bad idea to let a stranger in your home). It was 5pm on a Saturday though, so still light out, should I need to high tail it up the road, screaming for help. Lispy knocked on the door and I opened it to find a slightly older version of the picture on his dating profile. Not a deal breaker. Then he walked in my house and TOOK OFF HIS SHOES! Umm, hello? I didn’t invite you in for tea. I asked if we were planning on going out and thankfully he got the hint. He took me to… Boston Pizza. At 5pm. On a Saturday. For a first date. I hadn’t really paid attention to much about his voice, except to recognize a very pronounced lisp. I like to think this wouldn’t have been a deal breaker either, that maybe I’m not that shallow. But then he exclaimed “you know the differnth between your houth and my houth ith that you have tho many pictureth and I don’t have anything. I gueth you will have to put thome up for me”. No. Nope. Nope. No. Then when I blank stared at him, he giggled. GIGGLED. For the entire rest of the date, he just giggled. I was home by 6:30 and had enough time to go out with friends for real Saturday night fun. Lispy messaged me the next day asking if he should shave his beard or if I liked the beard. I politely told him I didn’t think it was going to work out between us and I wished him luck in his future endeavours and beard decisions.

C)      The Engineer and I shared messages back and forth online for a VERY long time in the online dating world (three and a half weeks). And these messages were long. It would take me half a day to respond to all the questions and statements. It was going really well, on paper. Engineer was handsome in person and taller than a WNBA players dream. We decided to meet for coffee and upon first sight I was pleasantly surprised… until he spoke. The first thing Engineer said to me was “you changed your hair”. Umm, hi to you too. Yes, I did change my hair. It was about two inches shorter and a tad darker, not a deal breaker when you have an awesome personality like mine. Anyways, the date lasted 45 minutes and then I left and never heard from him again. Until a friend of a friend tried to set me up with him and I guessed who it was within hearing “engineer”. Needless to say, I didn’t meet him, again.

D)     You know those dates that seem to go on forever and you are so excited because they’re just so awesome and you start to imagine more dates that are just as awesome. That’s how Saskatchewan and I were. We started out meeting for coffee and progressed to beers and dinner. It was a solid first date. He wasn’t exactly my style but he was sweet and ambitious. After  a five hour stint of laughing and story sharing, we parted ways. We never talked again. The end.

And that my friends is a little glimpse into my online dating life. There are more stories. Some turned into stories that will span many pages. Some I don’t remember because they were that unimportant. Either way, I learned a lot. I learned that I hate online dating. I learned that the spark and unexplainable, unspoken connection you feel when you meet someone is really important to me, and you can’t find that on a piece of paper or a computer screen. I learned that liking a man’s voice is extremely important. I learned a good first date doesn’t necessarily mean there will be more dates. I learned that I’m not everyone’s type. I learned not to take rejection so hard. I learned that getting along on paper is easy, getting along in person, not so much. #lifelessons

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January 12, 2014 · 11:56 PM

B’s Be Like

image

Story. Of. My. Life.

This happens to me all the time. And it’s not just one “ex”. It’s two. Two mofo’s who couldn’t see how eff bombin awesome I am the first go ’round and come back for seconds (or in the case of the B’s rounds 4 and 5)… I’m not good at making relationship decisions for myself. If you haven’t picked up on that yet…you’re dumber than I look.

Oh, let me tell you about the B’s… it’d be so easy to forget them if they weren’t so attractive. And buff. And charming. And… those eyes, those dimples, those biceps, those abs. The B’s (two ex’s that we [my friends and I] group together because they are such bad news for me) are just so… *droooool* and ever so current in my life.

B1 will be a reoccurring nightmare (or dream? I’ve yet to figure it out) and B2 is a hot mess of a nightmare (this one I’m 93% sure about). These two will pop up more frequently in my dating escapades as I move to current stories from Victoria. Some parts of these chapters (or paragraphs, depending on what round we are talking about) are hard to look at, so be easy on me… I’m fragile or some shit.

One of these two are my kryptonite. And I’m just beginning to realize who that is. I know you’re all curious and want details so… better keep reading! Suckas!

Moral of the blog post: dudes ain’t shit but manipulative twits 😉

Bonus Info:  astrologer confirmed ON THE NEWS (so It must be legit) that past loves/relationships will be popping up in the lives of many Cancers. Yaaay for us. Blah.

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Friday Night Fun

Fast forward to the present day and you will find me, still fabulous, still funny, and still soul wrenchingly single. The single life is great, I won’t mess with you. Doing whatever I want, whenever I want is pretty amazing. Except for when what I really want to do is lay on the couch with a man who is in lottle with me, start a new season of some crap show (I hear Orange is the New Black is pretty decent), and have my hair played with. Those are the kinds of things that you don’t get to do when you’re single. (I just pictured myself wrapped up with one of those ‘boyfriend’ pillows watching tv while playing with my own hair. Please laugh with me, not at me. Should I ever sink to this level, I will cry and someone slap me, please).

I know today’s date shows up on these posts, but just because I feel I need to be dramatic… It’s a foggy Friday night, in the middle of October. Did I go out dancing with the girls? Nope. Did I carve pumpkins with a boy and watch scary movies? HA! Did I take in comedy night at Hecklers? Nein. Did I volunteer at the SPCA and play with puppies all night? I wish! Did I drink wine and read a good book while listening to jazz music? Not even close. I ate an entire small Veggie Mediterranean pizza with two dippers to myself. While watching Law & Order: SVU. #winning. None of those three things separately bother me. Friday, awesome; Pizza, super awesome; and if you don’t like Law & Order: SVU you’re lying to yourself. But combined, they make me feel like I should rescue a cat or seven.

I’m not lonely, and rarely am I ‘alone’. I don’t get much down time, working seventy-ish hours a week, so when I do and end up watching tv (on a laptop because I don’t have cable), in flamingo print pajamas, eating 3.2 pounds of pizza (I weighed myself before and after) for six hours, a girl starts to wonder about herself.

All of us poor single folk get the “single funk” every now and again. Don’t pretend you don’t know what this is. For anyone who is lying to themselves or who has been in a relationship too long to remember: this is when we hate being single and curse the opposite sex, ourselves, our parents, our city, the weatherman, that dog that didn’t lick your hand because he clearly smelled your desperation, or basically anyone or anything that is in our way. I, thankfully, haven’t had a moment like this in a while. I hope I’m not due. They never go well and I definitely always write an ex or two. Yay me! (That was sarcasm).

Tonight is not the night for me to have a single person funk. I love life. I love that I get to go to bed and fall asleep in the middle of my bed; I love that I ate an entire pizza and didn’t have to share; I love that I don’t have to worry what my breath will smell like in the morning; I love that should I have an insomnia attack in a few hours, I don’t have to worry about waking anyone up with the lights on; I love that tomorrow, when I finally wake up (on my own schedule), I get to do whatever the eff bomb I want to (until my PT appointment at noon, then that meathead gets to boss me around). I think the important thing is that I love MY life… I just hate dating.

Lesson’s learned tonight: Munch retired , you will gain over three pounds from eating an entire small pizza, my pajamas are too big (in spite of said pizza eating), I can go an entire Friday without wearing a bra or drinking alcohol, there is such a thing as the ‘boyfriend’ pillow (see below), and it is completely possible to be in bed before midnight on a Friday.

 

The-boyfriend-pillow

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Online Dating Anyone?

As a single member of the 21st century, I’ve dabbled in online dating. By dabble, I mean, I make a profile and keep it for two-four weeks before deleting it… and then re-make a profile a few months later. It’s a vicious cycle.

For the seven people out there who haven’t tried online dating, it’s weird. It’s a phenomenon that confuses me. I get the concept, you write what you think people want to hear, post pictures of yourself doing fun things and looking fabulous while doing said things and hope to catch a mate. Don’t get me wrong, some people find true love on dating websites at least four times a year. However, I’ve had no such luck. Hence, this blog.

I’ve been on and off dating websites for as long as I can remember. I met my last long term boyfriend on a site called Nexopia (I’m not even sure I knew it was a dating website at the time), but it was love at first type and we dated for awhile. So, after that relationship detoured to Breakupsville, I figured I’d give it a whirl again. Man, do I regret this decision.

I tried EHarmony, you know, where you pay a monthly fee to find love. Yeah, you’d think that if someone was willing to pay actual money to find a mate, they’d be pretty serious about it. Nope. I wasn’t, I went on exactly zero dates in three months. This was mainly because everyone I got matched with lived in a different province, or country and I don’t like airplanes, or pen pals. Plus, it’s a seven thousand step process to get to the back and forth communication part of the “courting” process. EHarmony, $134 dollars; Me, zero dates.

I tried Match.com. I actually made a decent profile and then never logged in again. Ever. Match.com, uninteresting and too green; Me, zero dates.

I tried Plenty of Fish (or as I call it, FISH OF PLENTY). I’ve created an account on this site approximately nine times in the last three years. NINE. (My love life is so bumpin). I make the same profile every time, I tweek a few words here and add some random facts there, but mainly I use the same gist (and I’ve got to say, I’m pretty honest about how weird and awkward I am). Then I post six-eight photos (always a head shot with make up on, a head shot with NO make up on, a couple photos of me doing fun activities, and a full body shot dressed up; gotta give the boys a realistic view of my many faces). Anyways, most of my dating history comes from this site. Why? I have no idea, especially when 87% of the messages I receive are “Hey” or “Your gorgeous” (yup, 9 out of 10 times messages are boring or spelled wrong). The best part of POF is that you get actual people soliciting sex from you, or straight up sending you pictures of their schlong. Yet, I always reactivate my profile… Maybe I’m the messed up one? POF, entertaining and free; Me, too many failed dates to count.

In my opinion online dating is like an addiction. You hate it, but you can’t stop. You want to be part of it, but don’t want to admit it. I sort of understand why people use online dating (heck, I’m one of them) but ultimately there is only one thing that matters, chemistry, and ain’t nobody going to find that on a computer screen.

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This is Me!

First of all, I should let you all know that I’m just an average Jane. I work a full time job (sales), a part time job (cocktail servant), workout a few times a week (realistically, a few times a month), eat semi-healthily (I love me a grilled cheese), enjoy an active social life (beer pong anyone?), and try to be a decent human being. I also have the good grace to be decent looking. I’ve never had any complaints and often get mistaken for a university student of 23 (booya, my genes are holding strong), even though I am 22 months shy of 30, not that I’m counting or anything.

Second of all, why am I doing this? Well, let me tell you dear reader, I’m doing this because everyone needs to know that they are not alone in this ridiculous dating game called “finding the one”. Plus, you can laugh at me and feel better about your miserable love life (hopefully, yours is full of flowers and shoes and love and laughing and all that shit that I’m jealous of, though).

Third of all, How did I get here? Well, I was perfectly content in my four year relationship until I realized I wasn’t. And let me tell you, when that thought slips into your head it’s like a disease that you can’t get rid of (herpes, for example). Anyways, we obviously broke up (mutually, because I’m a boss like that), and now I’m dating (for over three years, I will add).

Last of all, with all this being said, although my life is like a comedic movie, I love my life. The things that happen in my life belong in a play, or a movie, or a novel, or on a talk show; either way, these are my stories, and it’s my life and it is sassy and shitty as all sin. Sorry not sorry.

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