Monsieur Formidable

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Samantha – After months of hibernation I have finally returned!! As explained in previous rants (see “I’m in a fk funk” for reference) I had totally dismissed the dating game that I was so heavily invested in just a couple months ago. I was exhausted of the game and putting in the effort, evidenced by the fact that I have had MINIMAL male interaction since I ran out on Mr. Views. Even when I did hook up I was totally unenthused, bored and not wanting to write another mundane blog post about it…yea not a great sign. However, I am happy to report that the funk has officially been broken and I have something worth sharing.

I went to Banff for a 5-day vacation over the May long weekend. I had planned this trip back in January when I was still living at home and badly needing an escape. I felt so claustrophobic in my parents’ house so I spontaneously booked a solo trip, which most of my friends found pretty odd. As a textbook extrovert and over-thinker, it seemed likely that I’d lose my damn mind if the only person I had to talk to was myself. Honestly, at the time I was feeling so stuck and frustrated in my parents’ house that the idea of doing something completely independent and outside my comfort zone seemed crucial to maintaining my sanity. Fast forward 4 months and I’ve since moved out, turned 23 and am much happier. I began to wonder: What would my trip be like? Would I meet cool people? Have some life-changing spiritual journey? Get mauled by a bear hiking alone in the woods? Nervous and excited, I hopped on a plane not knowing I was headed on an adventure that would greatly surpass my expectations.

I arrived in Banff Thursday afternoon filled with energy. It was too late in the day for a hike so I wandered around town taking in the sights and planning the next few days. I had come to Banff with a mission to get laid and was looking for an opportunity to increase my odds…so I decided to re-download tinder.

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Turns out there are TONS of hot and horny guys in Banff and I quickly started chatting up a few. Monsieur Formidable (Mr. Wonderful) ended up asking me out first and I said yes. He’s 26, from Quebec, working in Banff and has a rockin bod…All qualities of the perfect vacation companion.  We grabbed a couple beers at a bar and began chatting about who we were, where we worked and what drugs we’d done in the past – you know, normal first date stuff. We discovered we both like shrooms and decided to do some that night because WHY NOT?

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We did them outside my hostel and spent most of the night having life chats. I was just thinking “Dayum this guy is great!” when he laid some really weird news on me: he’s an alchemist.  I’m still not sure WTF that means but all I know is it’s a religion that focuses on getting to new levels, out of body experiences and attaining dream states…My poor, high brain could not take this seriously and I had to literally cover my face to keep from laughing. Anyway, I didn’t see him as anything more than a way to have some fun over the next few days, so I moved past it and we ended the night with a really hot hookup in the shower closet (yes, the shower in the hostel was literally a closet).

The next day he insisted on coming hiking with me, which was SO refreshing as guys from Toronto generally show affection by acting totally disinterested in the girl they’re seeing. We went on a long hike, took some cute pics by a waterfall (are we dating? Let me know), and really got to know each other. No religion stuff came up and I found myself thanking the Tinder Gods for providing me with someone nice, fun and pretty damn cute. After the hike we went to these hot springs where things literally heated up. Amongst all the other couples it felt like a pretty romantic setting for two people who’d just met, but I actually liked it. Usually that kind of stuff makes me feel cheesy and weird but the whole thing was really comfortable so I continued to go with the flow.

I’d anticipated going home after but Monsieur Formidable invited me over for some food instead . We stopped by a grocery store and got everything needed to make homemade burgers, salad and dessert. I mean, COME ON, was this guy for real? It was so cute and felt like something out of the kind of romance movies I usually make fun of. We spent most of that night in his bedroom and let me tell you this guy is without a doubt the best I’ve ever had. Like no contest. Anyway, I found out the next morning that he has to sign in his guests (he stays in some sort of staff accommodation) and had signed me in for the 3 nights I had left in Banff after our first night together. See what I mean about not being afraid to show interest?

The next day was pretty phenomenal. He had to work so I went on a solo expedition up Tunnel Mountain and even made it to Lake Louise. I got SO lucky with the weather while I was away, the forecast had called for rain the entire time but so far all I’d had was sun and clear skies. Heck, I even got a bit burnt on top of Tunnel Mountain. That night I went down to our hostel bar for some drinks. The bar was actually wrapping up around the same time Monsieur Formidable got off work so I headed over there for the night. We had an amazing night together, details can be assumed, and lazed around the next morning cuddling and chatting. ME. CUDDLING. I don’t think you realize the gravitas of this kind of situation. I don’t cuddle….usually. Oh dear, you can probably see where this is going can’t you?

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He had work again the next day so I drove out to Marble Canyon in B.C. with this guy from my hostel. The canyon was absolutely breathtaking and I am still in awe just thinking about the view. After this I stopped by Canmore to visit a friend for dinner. By the time I got back to Banff that night I was exhausted and crashed for a couple hours knowing that I wouldn’t be getting much sleep staying over at Monsieur Formidable. At this point I had slept in my hostel only once and was regretting paying for all 4 nights up front…Later that night I went out with 2 Swedish girls from my hostel to this bar FILLED with Australians and other international travellers. It was a weird experience being one of the only Canadians in my own country but I was having an amazing time.

So how did this love affair end you might ask? Well, I’m a firm believer that things don’t truly end unless they end badly, so it makes sense that I’d find some way to screw up an almost perfect 5-day stretch. I can pinpoint the exact moment when things started to change for me. We’re lying in bed on the 4th morning, talking about our exes and he tells me that his relationships usually last up to two weeks before he gets annoyed or bored…he then proceeds to tell me that it would take a lot longer than that for me to annoy him if I was staying in Banff. Seems like a sweet but innocuous comment right? Well, maybe for a  normal person. But for me, someone who RARELY gets emotionally invested it tugged at my heart a little. Here is someone that I have grown rather fond of and everything seemed simple until it was ending and I actually liked him! At the time I hadn’t realized this but that night, when I went out with Swedish girls, I ended up leaving the bar because he couldn’t get in. Uh oh, this wasn’t what my trip was supposed to be…Here I am having an amazing time on my last night in Banff and I leave to go hang out with a guy I barely know. This was probably a sign that I should probably check myself before I wreck myself but I didn’t see it.

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We went back to his place, totally normal…except that it wasn’t. Now, as neither of us is a relationship person I can surmise that he might react similarly to me, but in reality this next part is an assumption of his behaviour based on how I explain my own. Generally when I am feeling vulnerable I have the tendency to push people away. You know, like push someone away, if they leave you were right all along but if they come back it means alot. It’s a pathetic defense mechanism, I know, and one that I’ve employed too many times. Well, while at his place some random guy messaged me on tinder and I checked it as a joke. Yea I know, dick move on my part. He immediately got weird and told me to talk to the random if I’d wanted even though I clearly did not. Then, while telling him about my night out with the girls, he made a comment about not being able to hook up with them because of me. I said “Why not? I’m leaving tomorrow, I don’t care” and he said something about how I wouldn’t be allowed to care either way. The point is, it seemed like we were both suddenly acting like we didn’t give a shit, and I doubt he would change from being an incredibly sweet, considerate person for 4 days into a fuckboi overnight. Maybe I’m naïve but I just don’t see it. Especially when I know that I was being bitchy in an arcane attempt to protect myself from getting hurt.

The rest of the night was filled with similar weirdness. We hooked up as per the usual but for the first time it wasn’t AMAZING. In fact, it was the first time I didn’t finish at all, let alone multiple times. I guess it really had gotten emotional for me. I felt pretty much responsible for the weirdness but couldn’t seem to stop from acting that way despite being painfully self-aware about it. I lay awake most of the night thinking about it how I messed up the ending of an almost a perfect week and being pissed off that I couldn’t have had a more mature emotional response. I continued to get increasingly upset until I decided “fuck it, I’m leaving”. I got up and dressed, and without much protest from him it became pretty clear he probably wanted me to leave as well. With a kiss goodbye I headed for the door, laughing when he called out “nice to meet you” from his bed. In that moment I realized how stupid I was for getting invested despite my best intentions. This guy was still pretty much a total stranger and I was friggen embarrassed.

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I headed to the nearby Bow Falls as it was the one sight I had yet to visit and really needed to clear my head. After walking around for about 40 minutes I realized I FORGOT MY FUCKING WATCH. Oh God, now I had to go back and have another awkward goodbye. He met me at the front door with the watch and after a weird kiss on my neck and a quick hug, we bid adieu, this time for real. How badly I wish we could’ve ended more positively but such is life. I honestly think that I have such a hard time dealing with emotions because I don’t let myself experience them often enough. When I do it hits me like a ton of bricks and makes me act like a psycho.

All in all I am really thankful for the experience no  matter the outcome. It was really nice having someone to be with, talk to and straight up, he was phenomenal in bed. Maybe I was dicknotized and drunk with hormones, but the whole thing showed me that I’m clearly interested in a relationship and should just hold out for something better than what I’ve settled for in the past. At the end of the day we never would’ve have worked out  – the alchemy thing alone is enough to send me running – but for the 5 days I was there he was a wonderful host and perfect gentleman. My only hope is he looks back at our short whatever it was fondly instead of being clouded by the weirdness that hung over the ending.

Banff totally captured my heart in every way. I fell in love with the mountains, fell in lust with a French guy and would happily return if the opportunity arose once again. This trip was everything I needed and more, and truly proved that the West coast is the best coast!

Till next time, S ❤

 

 

 

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Mr. Brazil

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Carrie – So after three months off of the dating app game, I found that my dating game had gone seriously downhill as well. There were a couple of guys here and there, but nothing that panned out and nothing I was excited about. I downloaded Happn because I thought it was the closest dating app that paralleled meeting someone in real life and in fact, I’ve had many an awkward run in with people on the app that I subway home with on the daily. Added bonus: I knew that Mr. Namaste was on it and things were either gonna “Happn” between us or not but I really needed to get over my little yoga crush. We matched. I messaged him “hey stranger, see you in class” (He didn’t respond. I haven’t seen him in class. I’m sure it’ll be awkward when we do. Nothing happened. I’m over it.)

It’s also the most overwhelming dating app for someone who is just getting back in the game. Your options are presented to you all at once, it tells you how many times you two have “crossed paths” and even narrows it down to the exact location. It’s tough to make a splash because unlike Tinder or Bumble or other swiping apps, the spotlight isn’t on your profile and guys don’t need to decide via swipe one way or another. Instead, your profile (aka your main picture) has to be attracting enough for someone to notice you out of the four options available on the screen. As a chick who is often picked somewhere in the middle of the pack when captains are choosing their sports teams, it seemed daunting to get anyone to match me.

Continue reading “Mr. Brazil”

Sick of men? Try women…

CITIZEN_VIBES_002This post, written by both Samantha and Stanford, were out and about in the 6ix on Saturday night and greatly inspired by a situation that transpired at the bar. No, it’s not about the men or the overpriced drinks (shout out to Carrie who got a $13 drink – tip: DO NOT have the bartender make a recommendation, you will definitely regret it) but rather it’s about the incredibly hilarious and candid conversation between two betches in the bathroom. We’re sure you’ve all been there and can remember similar encounters of your own, but what we heard on Saturday was too hilarious and inspiring not to share (…inspiring for our blog that is 😉 )

Let’s set the scene a little…Samantha, Carrie and Stanford head to the bathroom in a pack – as ladies often do – to freshen up. While there, Samantha and Stanford overheard a conversation and immediately looked at each other thinking the same thing: we have got to remember this for the blog. So, before discussing this wonderful convo, let’s share the notes we took verbatim from inside the bathroom. (Keep in mind, drunk note-taking is not my forte – Samantha)

Overheard in the citizen bathr
I thought my therapist was gay
You a. Switch teams, Samantha did it for a couple episodes
I’m gonna date women for a bit,,,for serious
No just for fun

This note really is a thing of poetry including metaphor, abbreviation and great liberties with sentence structure and punctuation. But for those of you not well-versed in drunk female, let’s clarify a little bit. The star of our story, a very pretty, very drunk blonde 20-something year old,  was dramatically complaining about men in a way we all so often do: I’m tired of tinder, men suck, I’m just going to give up and become a lesbian etc. etc. (Preach sista). She goes on to suggest that her therapist – reasons as to why she has a therapist remain unclear – is gay, and her friend immediately suggests making a move.

Good idea? At the time we didn’t even think about it, devoting all of our energy to this inebriated investigation and not drunkenly giggling too loudly. Let us tell you, these women were totally serious in their thinking that switching teams is 1. A choice and 2. Actually a good idea. Focusing on the latter,  these women in the Citizen bathroom were actually so turned off by men that it was a serious consideration to start browsing for women (SOS! please tell us the men in the 6ix aren’t so horrible that we’ll need to start dating each other). And they’re not just talking about any women, they’re talking about dating the woman who knows your deepest, darkest secrets and fears, your therapist. Sounds more like a nightmare than a happily ever after if you ask us.

Funnily enough, her friend ended up trying to convince her to go for the therapist by suggesting that it was a good idea because, hey, Samantha Jones did it for a couple episodes on SATC and she is clearly the epitome of an emotionally stable adult so why not copy her? Well, from the person emulating Samantha for the sake of this blog, let me tell you that her character is not the benchmark for healthy, adult relationships and shying away from love because you’re sick of getting hurt is only going to delay finding “The One” in the end. Also, maybe we should remind these women that Samantha on the show is not a real person. She is a character and while her sexual liberation is inspiring and encouraging, we wouldn’t base our life decisions off her ever erotic story line (i.e. switching teams). 

Overall the whole conversation was friggen hilarious. In keeping with my namesake, I – Samantha – must admit that I am not totally opposed to hooking up with a fellow female just for fun. In my opinion, often a hook up is just a hook up, so if there are no emotions involved I don’t see a problem with two willing parties having a good time, no matter the gender. (To each his..or her own..have fun – Stanford). HOWEVER, we agree that getting involved with YOUR THERAPIST is never a good idea, nor is becoming a “lesbian” because you’re having man troubles. Maybe instead of switching teams you can take a break from the game all together, grab a seat on the bench and rest up for the next round.

Clearly this was a very drunk conversation, we honestly couldn’t even decipher all the notes we took while in the bathroom. More than likely Blondie woke up the next day incredibly hungover but entirely straight. Nonetheless, we couldn’t help but enjoy the humour behind this conversation and also appreciate the fact that everyone in Toronto struggles with the same things that we do. Dating is hard, but it doesn’t matter if you’re a Samantha, Stanford, Carrie, Miranda or Charlotte, “no matter who broke your heart or how long it takes to heal, you’ll never get through it without your friends”. (SATC, S2:E1, Take Me Out to the Ball Game) And we’re so glad to have each other ❤

 

How To Be Single : Not a Movie Review

Carrie – You would think that around Valentine’s Day would be when we dating bloggers are most inspired, but at the risk of being presumptuous, I think it’s a fairly safe consensus to say that we here at DTT6 are in a funk. I have yet to miss a deadline for my weekly posts but I’ve been finding it really hard to blog about something – anything – when I really have no desire to be in any type of romantic relationship.

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From the Archives: Mr. Mind-F*ckboy

Carrie – How do I begin to summarize the most complicated and confusing relationship that encompassed eight months of my life? Although it’s been a while since we last talked and nothing in particular brought him up, I still think of him in late hours of insomniac nights.

Let’s go back to January 2015. Mr. Mind-F*ckboy was essentially a one-night stand of a wild weekend gone awry. Newly single Carrie had just had her first overnighter with a stranger who departed with a “thanks but you know I’ll never see you again.” I suppose that’s what I wanted at the time, that’s why I chose this random out-of-town guy who was visiting the first week of my last semester of undergrad.

Flash forward to the next night and I felt a little confused and off-kilter from my first one night stand. My friend, Mr. Stanford Blach in fact, was going out and told me to join so I put on my glasses and granny panties in a preventative form of birth control. We get to the bar and I’m waiting with my friend’s boyfriend from Ottawa who sees his friend from high school. And he was HOT. We get introduced and I’ve never been so attracted to someone (other than Zac Efron) right off the bat. Later, sipping on my G&T, I spot Mr. MFB brooding in the corner as we make eye contact. He starts moving through a crowd in my direction and I frantically chug my drink in preparation. We hit it off with a surprisingly deep conversation that flowed from classic rock to hook up culture to volun-tourism to neoliberalism and I hadn’t felt that strong of a connection with anyone before. He asked to come home with me and I agreed, silently cursing myself for the granny panties.
Continue reading “From the Archives: Mr. Mind-F*ckboy”

Closing the book or just turning the page

Just as I am confused about being in relationships, I’m also super confused about what it means to end a relationship. It’s been about 2 weeks since I ended it with Mr. High School crush (don’t worry, this is not a post about how sad I am and how much I miss him). Of course, I did have my sobbing on the couch chick-flick watching eating ice-cream sort of day, but mostly because I felt entitled too and used it as an excuse to have zero guilt about not being a productive human for the day. After my tears were out, I managed to get back on my feet and prioritize things that I had neglected when I was so focused on my relationship, mainly school my friends and family and the looming job applications. Life kept going and I almost thought – “Mr. High School Crush who?!” (just kidding).

But, as I kept replaying the break-up in my mind (please tell me that this is something that everyone does), I kept feeling bad. Not the breaking up part – hell I’ve never been so happy to be single, but more so about HOW we ended things. Long distance, in a fight and yelling at each other on the phone. Not exactly the way that I was hoping to show my maturity and care for him.

After talking it out countless times with roomies, friends and family I tried to take the next logical step in a break up and what I was hoping would address my guilt for our over-the-phone- break up fight: closure. Lucky for me, I was back in the six for the week for interviews. Aha, perfect time to get “closure”.  I decided that since I did the dumping, the ball was in my court to initiate the closure aka what I thought was the official end of things – I mean that’s what closure is, isn’t it? I constructed the perfect text (sweet and sensitive but not flirty, caring but not needy, and most importantly not too many emoji’s, exclamation points and haha’s) and managed to arrange a meeting with Mr. High School Crush over the time I was home.

Our meeting day came around, and I felt all confident and ready to face him again. Like I said, nobody did anything wrong – we just drifted and came to a point where being together wasn’t a great option for either of us. Upon deciding at meeting at a Tim’s (perfect place – neutral ground and no opportunity or temptation of break-up sex), the anxiety kicked in. Maybe it was because he announced his own anxiety, or it suddenly dawned on me that this could be the last time I talk to/get to hang out with Mr. High School crush – and I realized at that moment that I didn’t want that.

Of course I arrived first, and of course he was late, but once we were both there things just flowed. We caught up, shared some laughs until the “so…” came. I managed to spit out (a surprisingly eloquent) schpiel about how I still love and care for him, and wanted to apologize for breaking up with him the way I did, and that hopefully he could still somehow be a part of my life. Lucky for me, he felt the same way. His was a little more heart-felt (side note: I find the stereotype of girls being more emotional/sensitive to be a little off – as per my own experiences and with my friends, boys these days are WAY more sensitive and emotional than I ever would have thought), with a few more proclamations of love and hope of a future together sometime down the line,  but we agreed that friendship was what we wanted next. I mean, we love each other as people and get along great when we are just hanging out – our issues only came from being romantically involved with each other. I left our rendezvous feeling pretty happy with how things ended (a little confused with some feelings popping back up – but that’s normal right?) and said bye to my new ‘friend’ with just a hug and subtle kiss on my cheek.

Now I process this because I don’t know if I actually got closure. In my mind, closure was the end of an era, the closing of a book, something that is finito. But for us it seems that our book is still open, but that it’s just changed pages. Today, I woke up to a video on my newsfeed that I just had to send to Mr. High school crush because I knew he’d love it. We chatted, he said he had some to send me too and we went on with our day, because that’s what friends do isn’t it?

I can’t decide if still being his friend is “leading him on” or not letting him get over things with us and the break-up I know I can handle it (didn’t even flinch when my friend announced that he was on Tinder, that says something right)? I’m going to stay true to my inner optimist and think we can be friends –  and I hope we can because I’d definitely rather him be a friend than just a fling or gone forever!

Guest Post: Mr. High School Crush

Everyone please give a warm welcome to Stanford Blatch, the newest segment of DTT6. Stanford will be made up of the wonderful friends of our daters who’ll be writing in the occasional guest post about the happenings in their love lives.

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Please enjoy the first guest post from a very good friend of DTT6. We love her, we know you’ll love her, and we hope to hear from her again very soon!! 

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Mr. High School Crush had my heart from grade nine. He was the cute, rebellious and mysterious grade 12 that made me swoon, and I never for a second thought that I had a chance of even being on his radar. Fast-forward a few years later to a story that would have grade nine me screaming from excitement.

The summer going into third year, the hype of Tinder times, I decided to jump on the band wagon and start swiping. Lucky me, Mr. High school crush popped up in my pool of eligible bachelors, and without hesitation I swiped right, I mean obviously. To my awe and surprise – we matched! Mr. High school crush liked lil old me?! Wow, the story could have stopped there and I would have been living on cloud 9. But it didn’t. Mr. High school crush proceeded to friend me on Facebook, not only message me first, and get my number, but also ask me out for drinks!! Mr. High school crush picked me up (late, but what did I care) and we went for drinks. Before he dropped me off, he secured himself a spot for date number two (and whatever other dates he wanted after that). Perfect – a summer fling with Mr. High School crush and then I’ll go back to school out of town and that’s that, because who wants to start a relationship that’s long distance? Apparently we thought that starting a relationship was a good call because that’s exactly what we did. We said our goodbyes come September, and two weeks later Mr. High School crush came to visit me at school.

Mr. High School Crush became my best friend and we did everything together. I was so infatuated with how fairy tale this was, that in the whole process I was blinded to the red flags and warning signs. I know that everyone has their flaws, and maybe I expected perfection because it was of course Mr. High School crush, what could be wrong. Lots. Whether it be the lack of communication, his demotivation or his relationship with weed, it was clear that we didn’t fit but I just looked past it and kept trying to find (sometimes reach) for the silver lining.

That being said, Mr. High School Crush made some great strides: he decided to stop smoking everyday and begin school, get an amazing part time job (even bumping into my next love, Justin Bieber, on the job), attempted to change his group of friends and be more attentive. It seemed for a while things were going really well and they were. There were times that I’ve never been happier or more supported, and having Mr. High School crush in my life really did feel like a dream come true.

Well, two and a half years later and sometimes it just so happens that people grow apart. I noticed it when the fighting became the norm, and going to sleep upset or disappointed was just the expectation. I always say, and still believe that a relationship only works when two people bring out the best in each other and at this point, we weren’t, so I had to let go and say goodbye to Mr. High School Crush.

The best part of this whole experience is that I’m not bitter or resentful and as cliché as it sounds, I really do want the best for him and for him to be happy. I am ready to be done with him and that relationship and I’m excited that I get to start dating through the six with my woes.

Chronicles of a Toronto F*ckgirl: Part Five – Mr. Blind Spot

Carrie – Have you ever been so bored at work that you get horny? Like an uncomfortable-in-your-ergonomic-desk-chair, drinking-more-water-as-if-that-will-satiate-your-thirst type of horny? Well that’s what I was feeling on this particular Tuesday and when Mr. 3 Chances 2 Many was unavailable, I decided I’d toss Mr. Blind Spot a bone(r).

I invite Mr. Blind Spot to come over to my apartment. I thought his text about “seeing each other a few more times, taking things slow and see where they go” was just a formality, especially since he asked for casual relationship. So he arrives on a rainy evening, we end up making out on my bed and five minutes in, he pulls out a condom. It was a little fast for my taste, in terms of our relationship overall but also in foreplay tbh. However, I did really like him and my animalistic urges took over. I made him promise not to turn into an asshole after sex, he asked for clarification and then agreed, and I let him take control of the situation. As someone with a strong personality, he was one of the first guys I’ve been with that was the more dominant one in bed and I have to say it was a fun time. We went multiple rounds, even when my sister got home. At that point, he asked to do it in my apartment stairwell and I was slightly freaked out by his experience and kinkiness. However, all those worries were quieted when we lying together in my bed and he asked me to “netflix now that we’ve chilled.” I began setting up my laptop for a makeshift TV but he asked to go hang out on my living room couch, which is in a lot of ways the more intimate setting. He met my sister while we cuddled, kissed and joked around quoting Superbad together. He even gave me a foot massage with my fuzzy socks on.

At this point, I was just going to see Mr. 3 Chances because I have a tendency to run when I got scared and I was really into Mr. Blind Spot. So when Mr. Blind Spot texted me on Friday and Mr. 3 Chances was late again that night, I decided to meet up with the guy I actually liked instead. Mr. Blind Spot ended up going to the Maddy when I was near the Drake Hotel at a party, so I gave up on us meeting up and began scarfing down King’s Slice (biggest and great pizza in Toronto). It was around 2:30 a.m. when he started texting me consecutively. I should have listened to How I Met Your Mother when they said “nothing good happens after 2 a.m.” because he invites me over as I’m getting home. I guess my decision to go was partially because I am a human being with sexual needs and because I really liked this guy and wanted to spend more time with him before he left to London for the next couple of days. So yolo.

After a sketchy 4 a.m. uber ride, he walks me in and I get to see his room with nerdy airplane and robot models, a rubix cube with instructions on how to complete it, a huge TV, mismatched birch furniture that looks like it’s from a childhood room and a guitar. We are naked together, cuddling with my head resting on his shoulder when he gives me a forehead kiss. At that point, I’m a goner. The next morning (really only a couple hours later), I wake up with an abundance of energy considering how little sleep we got, and I get to see a boyish messy haired version of this very composed guy. When he wakes up a little more, he plays me a beautiful melody on the guitar with the sun beating down on him, barefoot in jeans, leaning against the wall. I’m resting my head on his duvet enjoying the moment and he sets his guitar down, resting his head across from me so that we’re looking at each other. Sometimes you can feel when you really connect with someone and that was the shifting moment when emotions got involved – a connection between two people outside of all the cellphones and sex and hookup culture that surrounds us these days. Two people staring at one another, eye to eye, not talking but just connecting as humans do. I know it’s dorky to say but it was special.

It was also after this moment that I felt his wall go up. At first, I thought it was because we were heading into public on the subway. He started rambling about his masters’ thesis, something about wing span gradient and range, then I gave him a shy kiss as we parted and he gave me a little salute in response. He texted me after the weekend and we were chatting when midway, he said “he feels weird about all that’s happened last week.” Knowing the end was impending, I asked him if he’d rather stop talking or meet in person. We decide to meet at Queen’s Park Station where we sat at a booth and he proceeds with small talk. I tell him to cut to the chase, why is he feeling “weird” and he tells me a relationship shouldn’t start off with so much sex. I immediately think of this as an insult against me and my womanhood –that I am the culprit of seduction when it was an act between the two of us. He realized he couldn’t do casual because he was a ‘boyfriend type guy’ but he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship yet since he just broke up with his ex in August. I was shocked: at the double standard he was using against me, especially since he initiated sex between us; at the fact that he confessed he’s only had sex three times before me because he was amazing in bed; at the fact that it was ending and it wasn’t my choice; but mostly at the fact that he made my biggest fears of another meaningless two night stand come true. I forgot to check my blind spot with this guy and I ended up crashing. When I got home, I sobbed uncontrollably at the rejection, replaying every moment between us where I could have flubbed up things. The bargaining stage of “maybe if I hadn’t done this or that, then…” I was disappointed and I was blaming myself.

But as I’m writing this, I’m thinking of the number of people I’ve been with this past year and a half of being single and how many unpursued connections that could have been romantic options, temporarily or otherwise. Things worked out after one of my biggest heartbreaks to date, I reminded myself. And as I travelled by Queen’s Park Station, I was reading Mindy Kaling’s latest book, thinking how she’s still writing about these disappointments with love interests at 34. The next breath I took wasn’t as jagged, it didn’t hurt quite so much anymore, and I felt hopeful for the first time. I realized how I still have years to be as successful as Mindy and an infinite amount of time to find the love(s) of my life. Hell, I’ve already been in love and that’s a lot more than other people can say. Reflecting on that Tim Horton’s booth where things ended before they started between me and Mr. Blind Spot, I had just had an epiphany.

Since failed romances are supposed to be about learnings, I’ll impart mine upon those of you who have stuck around to read this:

It’s not about your looks. It’s not about your personality. Essentially, it’s not about you. It’s not even necessarily about the way you guys mesh together. It’s truly about what you and your interest are looking for at the moment. These guys may want the same vision as me down the line, but when we’re all out here in the 6ix in our early 20s, it’s our time to be selfish. Don’t take it personally.

I failed as a Toronto F*ckgirl. Instead of dating multiple people and not caring about anyone other than me, I ended up being monogamous and getting hurt. But that’s because I care about people and most importantly, I love myself enough to think I deserve the best rather than settle. At the end of the day, I wouldn’t give that up for anything. I know I’ll find someone out there someday who will want the same things as I do at that moment. It’s gonna happen for me again when it happens. In fact, I’m sure I’ll find many somebodies. It just takes time to get over the somebodies that you think might be someone to you. So be patient, be strong, and keep sifting through the f*ckboys.

May the force be with you this holiday season, my friends. Merry Christmas!

Chronicles of a Toronto F*ckGirl: Part Three – The Most Emotionally Draining Weekend Ever

Carrie – So Friday night, I finish dinner earlier with the girls back in my old neighbourhood and head back downtown Friday night to prepare myself for my date with Mr. Blind Spot. I am having a minor freakout which I don’t normally get like but I liked this guy and could see it going past a potential hookup.

“But I am a f*ckgirl, I’m not looking to date just one guy, so I got this” I repeated to myself as a mantra. Apparently, in my mind, to be a f*ckgirl is to wear foundation so I was patting the stuff on, listening to a chill playlist and constantly calling my friend to make sure I wasn’t yoloing too hard. Mr. Blind Spot texts me that I should invite my friends but as you are all aware, I have no friends, and especially not any that would meet up downtown without two hours’ notice. So I rally and walk over to the club. I know I’m doing okay because I get hit on walking over alone at 8 p.m. by two guys who tell me to “Live Long and Prosper” and proceed to grab my hand as I flash them a Spock sign of peace and try to run away.

I meet Mr. Blind Spot at the door and we exchange an awkward hug/cheek-kiss. We head to the bar and I notice Mr. Blind Spot squinting at me. Then we head to the dance floor, watching the local band, and I look up at him blatantly staring at me again and doing this hard blink. With me at 5’2” (5’5” with my booties) and with him at 6 feet, it was like a creepy hovering gaze. I tell him to stop staring at me (cause I’m gutsy AF) and he tells me he’s allowed to admire me for my beauty. I roll my eyes and he laughs and confesses that he’s also kinda blind (-1.75 in each eye, same prescription as me!) but can’t wear contacts. “So you walk around blind?” I ask. “From far away, essentially.” That explains why he would constantly squint when he was focusing. I just thought he had a twitch.

I meet his friends and we’re yelling at each other from across the dance floor. He tells them we met on the subway and I laugh. He pulls me aside when I was talking to one of his friends from out of town and asked in a cute inquisitive way “What were you talking to __(I forgot his name)__ about?” I for the life of me can’t remember but I DO remember feeling like I was the ultimate male manipulator when it came to the make-boys-jealous game. We end up dancing to Justin Bieber’s “Sorry” like nobody was around us, twirling each other around before making out on the dance floor. Now I’m not one for PDA, especially not a D-floor makeout (shout out to my DTT6 mate Samantha who is the MASTER of this), but I remember looking around and seeing groups of girls and guys looking at us kind of admiringly, kind of like “get a room” and I finally felt like the girl you were jealous of. And you know what? It felt nice to be the centre of attention – the girl who had it all. He was good looking, surprisingly a great dancer and not just like a “grind on me all night” type, and we were having a blast… until he killed the mood by dropping his gum into my mouth mid-kiss.

I put him in his place and we take a break to talk at the side of the bar. He asks me about the best part of my week and seemed to genuinely listen. We talk for a bit and start making out and next thing I know, he’s got a ‘visitor’ down south and he’s telling me “we should find our secret hiding spot.” I, in a drunken panic, start to freak out that all he wants to do with me is have sex.

Now I know a lot of people use this as an excuse but I was ACTUALLY on my period. When I tell him this, he tells me I’m lying. Next thing I know, we’re having a conversation about what we want from this and I express that I am not looking for a one-night stand. I am sick of strings of guys and I just wanted a stable hookup with a small connection. It doesn’t have to last a year but not a night either. But all I am able to articulate in the club is that I’m not looking for a one night stand. He tells me he’s not looking for a serious relationship. And this is a bit of a shock to me because every bit of the way he was acting is how a boyfriend would. I guess he was just well-bred. It was clear we both didn’t know what we wanted and this conversation was way too premature.

So I do what I do normally and I ran. He said “let’s just dance and have fun” and I said “but we clearly don’t want the same things here so what’s the point?” I end up grabbing my coat and he walks me to the door, tries to make out with me one more time, and I said “I’m not changing my mind” and he said “I know.” And that was it.

The total opposite way I imagined the night to go, I am walking down King Street alone at 1:30 a.m in the clubbing district on a Friday night. There are tons of people still on the street and I hear “hey sexy ass, hey sexy ass.” I ignore the person, thinking it could have been directed to anyone. Then, I feel my ass getting smacked. I will NEVER stand for this and in my state of already fuming anger, I push this guy away. “Don’t touch a girl without her permission.” This random loner walks ahead, screaming fuck you and making obscene gestures, turns the corner, and has to turn around realizing he’s going the wrong way. The best bit: he pretends that it wasn’t him, hands in his pocket and suddenly silent. I say “real smooth” as I walk by and he looks me in the eye and says “fuck you whore.” I wish I could say I kept my cool but I wound up my arm, smacked him on his non-existent ass, and said “how do you like being touched without your permission” and stormed off.

The next morning, I was in the foulest mood when I woke up. I felt so caught off-guard with what happened which left me in a mixture of regret and confusion. I had literally and figuratively been hit from behind. Furthermore, I had not expected to have invested emotions into this guy so quickly and have it end so dramatically. For a person who prides herself on her relationships (romantic or otherwise), there is very little worse than being an inconsequential person to someone else. It feels like living a life without meaning to have not been meaningful to someone else. I guess this is what motivates me to never give up on people and I resolve to send a text before work to ensure I have #noragrets

I clarify that I don’t want a one night stand but I don’t want serious either. Drunken bar talks aren’t the best for seeing a middle ground and if he was still interested, let’s hang out again. He takes hours to respond and I write him off as an asshole, but it’s okay cause it’s going to be my long-postponed date with Mr. 3 Chances 2 Many. As his name might indicate, I don’t get a response from Mr. 3 Chances until three minutes after we’re supposed to meet that “he really wants to see me but he overslept at a friend’s uptown and won’t be able to get back downtown until 1 and he has tutoring at 2. I ignore him cause the guy’s a) unreliable and b) an idiot which makes for an unreliable idiot I have no time for. I find myself on autopilot, answer Mr. Blind Spot’s text: “Well I’m down to hang out a few more times if you’re up for it. We can just take it slow and see how it goes.” He also proceeds to leave my response to make plans unanswered for all of Sunday.

And just like that, I go from feeling like I’m on top of my Fuckgirl game to being right back in the first place where I started off: lonely, lost in the 6ix, and constantly being screwed over by unreliable dudes.

I try not to give so much power to allow others to influence how I feel about myself but sometimes it’s really hard to compartmentalize. So naturally I am ecstatic when Monday rolls around and I look at my phone to have responses from both guys…

Chronicles of a Toronto F*ckGirl: Part Two – The Dates (Kinda)

Carrie – I meet with Mr. Blind Spot at a local pub nearby my place. I had been to the place a couple of times – in fact, in April before I had become a 6ix chick, it was the first pub I had met my sister in. It’s in the centre of the party district so I met Mr. Blind Spot at the subway and we walked over together. But there’s this thing I do before the first meet up where I call the guy to make plans of where exactly to meet and see if he has a sexy voice (because that’s the best indication whether or not he’ll be a psycho murderer, duh!).

I’m surprised when I meet him that he’s the most normal internet random I’ve met (two others before so not the greatest sample but comparatively the best). Tall, dark haired with a controlled beard, decent full head of hair, and these great green-brown-blue eyes, he had a cute little gap in his front two teeth that I didn’t actually mind to my surprise. Mr. Blind Spot and I spend two and a half wonderful hours chatting over new beer tastings, from the Blue Jays to the best pick-up lines (including the ones he’s used on other Tinder girls) to family to PAST RELATIONSHIPS (!) to what we study/studied and being Italian (him) and Chinese (me). And get this everyone – he’s in aerospace engineering and I was immediately like ‘shit I should keep this one around.’ And this is especially because he mentioned how he deleted his Tinder around the Wednesday that he started talking to me on the regs. Undoubtedly, this tidbit made me a little hopeful about this guy.

I mention his nonni and how I love to collect Italian grandparents’ gnocchi recipes and then he goes a little silent. I recognized I hit a sensitive spot right away. He shared that his nonno had just passed away a couple of weeks before (the day before his birthday actually). If I had any reservations of Mr. Blind Spot being a player because of his previous “I feel like we connect very well #lovemesomeAsian” and his 2:30 a.m. drunk text saying “you’re a cutie”, his vulnerability at that moment really made my walls come down. This version seemed more like the authentic him and a real human being. In true Carrie fashion, I had even called him out on it when he said he was generally a very quiet guy and I responded with “you know, you can come off a little douchey via text but I like this side of you better.” He seemed a little startled that I told him that but had even apologized for seeming like a d-bag.

We leave around 11:30 p.m., it being a Monday night. Very gentlemanly-like, he pays and walks me toward the subway closest to my place. On the walk home though, a door to this wooden construction alcove swings open from the wind as we walk by. I giggle and push him through cause it was just weird timing and then shit hits the fan. Next thing I know, he pulls me in with him and this place is completely hidden out of sight and covered, the only light coming from the frosted glass windows of an apartment lobbyway. So we’re making out against the wooden boards and he picks me up with my back against the wall. I think he says something that was off-putting to me like “I wanna do dirty things to you” but I was so into it I didn’t even care. I did care when he started to make me grind against him and then he tries to finger me, his hand down the waistband of my tight high-waisted jeans and it just wasn’t feeling good or sexy or classy. I said “not now, not like this” and we simmered down for a bit before he walked me the rest of the way, trying to convince me to let him up into my condo. However, we were walking up University Avenue and he held my hand for a bit and when I said something along the lines of “is that [a hookup] all you want?” he had responded “no, I want it all” and it was strangely comforting rather than alarming for a first date. I kissed him by the subway in what I thought was a sexy fashion, breaking away mid-kiss and whispering “goodnight” against his protests to stay the night.

I wish I could say I was a player and was chill. I am not that type of girl. I am a go-getter and I had it bad. I wait a day and no text. Anxiety ensues where I think over every possibility that I might have messed up that date. Was it cause I walked away without following up? Was it cause he was just looking for a hookup? Was it cause – fuck it, I’mma text him. So two days later, “You win this time. When can I see you next?” and he couldn’t when I was free and we weren’t texting like we were leading up to the date.

So I think “WWTFGD” (What Would a Toronto Fuckgirl Do?) and I respond to Mr. 3 Chances to reschedule for Sunday afternoon since he had apologized profusely for bailing Monday. My DTT6 Galpal Samantha had advised no second chances for Tinder boys but I like to see the best in people, sometimes to the point of recklessness. I agreed to the date since things with Mr. Blind Spot were seeming a little fickle.

Mr. Blind Spot texts me that night “so I might not have gotten to hang out with you tonight but I did score… in the soccer game.” We chat briefly and he invites me out Friday night of the same week to go out with his friends… This seems premature to me but it pointed toward the fact that this could blossom to a relationship. I mean, you don’t introduce a random Tinder hookup to your friends your second time hanging out do you? I had plans for dinner but then reluctantly agreed.

At dinner on Friday, my girlfriends and I charted out a game plan for my weekend of Friday night Mr. Blind Spot and Sunday brunch Mr. 3 Chances. Over dinner, this third backup texted me to meet up with him that weekend. I blew him off cause even I knew that three guys was really two too many for this relationship type of gal.

Update: I walked by the area again one time last week and found the featured sketchy spot. Thought I’d share if you ever needed a somewhat secluded makeout spot in the 6ix.