Mr. 10(A) High School Musical

Carrie –  For the past nine months, I have withheld my re-born again virginity from potential suitors in hopes that the next guy that I slept with would amount to something more. Not necessarily as in a boyfriend and not even necessarily more than one night (although ideal) – I’m talking about someone that I felt a connection with.

What was this weird self-imposed pressure to make it meaningful? Well, you see, the next guy I would sleep with would be my tenth. For someone who lost her virginity to someone she loved for five years after, I hadn’t ever envisioned myself having sex with more than one partner, much less eight others after that. Sex should be something more than lust, right? I started losing what sex had meant to me so I became infactuated with this idea that hitting double digits – the big 10 – should be something. Maybe 10 would even be my next One + Nothing (1 + 0) because everyone else before that didn’t really mean much.

Yet alas, the spell has been broken…

10(a) : Mr. High School Musical

            Upon heading back into the cesspool that is Ottawa from my May abroad, I felt hopeful my first few days of June. “Summer is the best season in Ottawa,” everyone boasted. With a best friend from the 6ix moving in with me for the summer and a good drinking crew, I was looking forward to Canada’s 150th anniversary in the capital.

Continue reading “Mr. 10(A) High School Musical”

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Mr. Guest Relations

What an exciting moment that I finally am making my own “Mr.” post. Does this mean I’m officially back in the dating game? Maybe not (lol keep reading) but it does mean that I’m making some progress and some attempt, so that has to count for something right? (please say yes).

This summer, I’ve been on what I guess you can call a paid vacation (working a little but playing a lot more) away from the six. Ready for new adventures I’ve been fortunate to be working for a magical company, meeting so many amazing people and just soaking in a whole new adventure. Though there is so much to be enjoying and lots of fun to be had, there’s a little piece of me that was hoping for that cute summer fling to be the cherry on top on the already incredible summer.

Fast forward a few weeks into the summer: I’m settled into my apartment, have an awesome group of friends and am finally getting the hang of the job. One day, basically out of nowhere, this super cute guy, Mr. Guest Relations, shows up at work. Without even realizing or intending to, I started some small chat with him that ended up with him hanging out with me for my entire shift, and I can’t say that I was complaining. He made me laugh, he was easy to talk to and he wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. I left work not thinking too much of it, but by the time I was home I already had the Facebook friend request and a message waiting for me. Hm, maybe I could start crushing on Mr. Guest Relations.

Mr. Guest Relations and I hit it off – we texted a lot and hung out. My favourite part was that he never suggested we “Netflix and chill” but would always come up with fun activities like the beach or a sporting event – it was all feeling too good to be true. Before long, everyone at work was picking up on our vibe too with people asking what was going on and “just friends” was the response they got (okay I didn’t want to seem too eager or gossipy at work, I thought this was a great way to play it cool amirite?!) Clearly there was something going on, and might I say I was a little excited that other people could see it too. Mr. Guest Relations seemed like the ideal candidate for the summer fling that I was hoping for!

Now, this is where I get all confused because all of a sudden the ideal Mr. Guest Relations stopped being so ideal. With advanced Facebook creeping, it suddenly dawned on me that Mr. Guest Relations might have a girlfriend out of town. With my suspicions in mind, I began to be confused why Mr. Guest Relations was still texting me, and flirting and pursuing me. Mr. Guest Relations who was supposed to fix all the problems, seemed to be causing a lot more. Confused as ever, I analyzed the texts with my friends – was I reading to much into it? Reassured that he was clearly flirty and clearly into it, I continued to talk to him and he continued to ask me out.

Not only did I find out that it was confirmed that Mr. Guest Relations had a girlfriend – he also had something else I was not expecting: an ex-wife. In the same conversation Mr. Guest Relations had 1. Announced how happy he was to be finalizing his divorce 2. Bring up the “girlfriend” card and 3. Invite me out to California with him (Lets just say this is where I began running for the hills, and not the Hollywood hills). Mr. Guest Relations seemed like a lot more trouble than a summer fling was worth, and the sirens started blaring (except funny to my friends when I a. confirmed the suspicions about the girlfriend, and b. talked about his divorce lol that’s way too adult for my life these days).

This situation left me confused in so many ways. Firstly, it was the first crush I really had since I’ve been out of my last relationship (yay confirmed that I am capable of liking other people – maybe not #foreveralone?!). Mostly, this introduces me to the again struggle that is the confusion of men… no better way to sum this up than WTF? Not only was this guy sketchy AF to be hanging with and pursuing other girls when he is in a “committed” relationship. There was nothing wrong with being friends with Mr. Guest Relations, and I probably wouldn’t have even thought of him in the romantic way if he didn’t initiate the flirting. So now, instead of hanging as friends I’m avoiding Mr. Guest Relations at all costs (even though that trip to California did sound tempting…just kidding). This just opened my eyes to some of the dating struggles in and out of the six, but at least gave me a story for the blog! Maybe next time with a little bit of extra pixie dust, the next Mr. will be Mr. Prince Charming (I mean a girl can dream right?)!

Mr. Brazil

brazil

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”

Mr. MusicMan

For the last half year I have tried to make sex meaningless. I felt as though if I could overcome the emotional aspect I wouldn’t get hurt anymore. But I did, in every sense of the word.

My first date with Mr. MusicMan was okay at best. He started off really negative but I thought it was just because he was tired from working all day. All he did was talk about hating his job, wanting to be a rock star and dreaming about winning the lottery. He was stupidly good-looking so I cut him some slack. At the end of the night he drove me home and kissed me. It’s been a while since a kiss has actually made my heart drop but it happened. Best of all, he messaged me the next morning saying he wanted to see me again!

Our second date took place at his apartment. He wanted to make me dinner – which I basically took as being a booty-call. At first I was hesitant but then I came back to this recurring notion of “why should I care, it’s just sex”. So I went over. The entire night was kind of awkward but I just blamed in on the sexual tension.

After dinner we were hanging out and although I was promised a movie he never turned one on. This just confirmed my belief that this was a booty-call. We ended up making out and it got steamy really quick. Mr. MusicMan was significantly bigger than me and was picking me up with ease. He did all the right moves as picking me up and tossing me on a bed is a sure way into my heart and usually my pants.

Things got intimate VERY quickly and the next thing I knew he was on top of me. This is where things got uncomfortable and quickly made me challenge this perception of sex that I’ve been trying to adopt. Almost immediately he went from being someone who I was super into to someone I was kind of afraid of. I’ve always had problems with intercourse and it’s a huge hit or miss whether or not it will hurt me. Unfortunately, this time it did. But it also didn’t help that he was incredibly rough.

He wanted to change positions every 10 seconds, to the point where I felt like a fucking acrobat. The entire process hurt me immensely and although he asked if I was okay or whether I wanted to stop he never actually slowed down even after I asked him to. The worst part was that I wanted it to stop but felt too uncomfortable to tell him. Here I was having sex with a guy I barely knew – how was I supposed to explain to him that I have a medical condition that clearly had gotten worse and was causing me an excruciating amount of pain? What if he won’t like me or won’t want to see me again?

After the torture was over I went to the washroom. I came back to find him in bed playing guitar – almost like I wasn’t there. I was uncomfortable and unsure as to what to do so I kind of just chilled for a while. We had some very uncomfortable pillow talk where he basically told me I was shallow and cracked a joke about me being a virgin. He also made a comment that he didn’t think I was the “type of girl” to have sex so quickly – leaving me confused and embarrassed feeling like I misread the incredibly clear signs.

At that point I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. I felt disgusting, degraded and worst of all in so much pain I thought I was going to struggle to walk. After asking me to stay the night and rejecting his offer in the kindest way I could (which probably came off really rude) he drove me home and we went our separate ways.

He messaged me that night but then, as it always does, the conversation died and that was the last I heard from him.

This post isn’t about saying he was a shit guy and it’s not about saying sex can’t be casual. All I’m getting at is I think casual sex isn’t my thing. Everything that happened that night was consensual but I didn’t leave his apartment feeling giddy or even satisfied. I left feeling used and abused. Worst of all he had given me indication that we would hang out again, that he wasn’t the type of guy to just sleep with a girl and then throw her to the curb. Although I’m usually careful of these types of comments, I really wanted to believe him. I guess he was at least nice enough to drop me off on my own curb.

 

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .  .   .  .

 

Progress report:

At the point of writing this post (originally) I honestly thought we would never speak again. But the following evening, I was feeling weird about how things were left off  so I thought I’d try and ease the weirdness by making a joke. The night before he was convinced he was going to win the Power Ball, so I thought it would be appropriate to open up the conversation by reminding him that he lost:

Cirque De Soleil (2)

Maybe I have a shit sense of humour but I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t tell a girl that you don’t intend to see her again the evening after you had sex. Not only was the sex awful but now it was clear this guy was a MAJOR D-BAG.

A few days later I have the good fortune of hearing from him again:

Cirque De Soleil (1)

At first I thought introducing a conversation with an emoticon at 12:30am meant I was being booty called. But then I remembered he was in Montreal all weekend so that wouldn’t make sense. As you can see from my side of the conversation I’m hilarious (or at least I think so). Even after receiving a message saying “Missing our horrible sex…” I still tried to crack a joke. Like, sir, do you really have to remind me of how bad the sex was? I was there; I’m well aware you sucked.

That was clearly not the response he was looking for. I’m not sure if he wanted me to comfort him or something but that’s not really the way I normally react to an insult. Try to bring me down and I’m taking you with me.

Dear followers, please feel free to share your thoughts. (1) WTF was the point of this conversation? (2) Did I seem stressed at all in order to warrant being told to “relax”?

I’m starting to think I just attract crazy. I’ll keep you guys posted if I hear anything else from this guy, it’s bound to be post worthy.

Mr. Card-again

Carrie – It’s been about a month since I met Mr. Cardigan. In this time, we have maybe exchanged thirty messages or so. While this may seem a lot on its own, I think I have tried to text my house landline more than Mr. C. Nevertheless, I did meet up with him again, hence his new name: Mr. Card-again (#sorrynotsorry for the bad pun).

He messaged me the Monday after we met, presumably after work around 5:30. Giddy with excitement, I messaged back instantaneously and we banter. Then I go to yoga, thinking I’m gonna leave him hanging for an hour and a half until I’m out of my class – that’s a long enough time to not seem to eager right? I exit the class, running to the lockers to check my phone to ~ nothing ~. It’s interesting talking to new people and how it sets the rules to the game that you two are gonna play. For instance, am I gonna be a prompt responder to this person or do I have to play a little more hard-to-get to keep this person chasing? I hate it, but I unknowingly play by these rules.

I spend the whole next day in anxiety. Confused by why he would message if he didn’t want to talk, annoyed by the fact I cared, bruised by it seemingly like yet another disinterested guy, I felt like absolute shit. I realize I derive a lot of my confidence and self-worth from the relationships I keep, be it friendships or romantic interests, and not all of them are worth my time. I was a little down but just shrugged it off by the end of the workday: another one for the blog, I suppose.

Then after work, Mr. C’s name pops up on my phone, continuing the conversation as if it hadn’t been 23 hours… But who’s counting? I decide to sass him: “Do you check your phone once every day at 5:30 or are you just trying to play hard to get?” It takes hours between every text response and the guy texts in a manner akin to the first time you meet your friend’s parents. He’s a cordial, polite, full-sentence-with-punctuation texter with very little flirtation. He asks me about my plans for the weekend at which point I disclose I’m dipping to Mexico but let’s stay in touch. He agrees, telling me and my family to have a happy holiday. See, he can be sweet!

We message once in Mexico and he asks me when I’m coming back. I respond but he doesn’t answer for five days. FIVE DAYS. What’s the point in answering at all? I can make excuses for him: it’s the holidays, we barely know one another, I’m away in Mexico, etc. etc. However, I find it skeptical that he couldn’t find the time to send me a simple text until the day I’m coming home.

He booty calls me on New Year’s Eve (technically New Year’s Day) at 2:30 am asking to come over. In the immortal words of How I Met Your Mother, “Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.” When I tell him no, he persists and asks me when he can see me next. I tell him we can hang out later that day at a normal hour.

The next morning, I see a text from him. Shocking. 2:38 a.m.: “I’m coming over tomorrow.” We try to make plans for that evening but he bails because he has to work early. At this point, I am ready to write him off but he follows up with a “No excuses for me, can we please hang Saturday or Sunday night?” I reluctantly agree.

Sunday was great. Mr. C wasn’t wearing a cardigan this time, but he was clad in a sweater and that’s close enough to his namesake right? We went to Three Brewers for some beers, he was as cute as I remembered, the conversation flowed really easily and we even laughed a couple of times. Nothing overly memorable but it seemed like it was full of potential. He was family oriented, animatedly telling me about his siblings and parents. He paid for us, opened the door for me, and we walked back to my place. In my bed, we cuddled and he gave me forehead kisses, complimented the way I smell, and acted like a complete sweet and shy gentleman before we engaged in some non-PG-13 activities. Mother Nature was not on my side that week so we make vague plans to ‘hang out’ (probably code for bang) this weekend before he left. He gave me a kiss and departed with a “we’ll talk.”

But the thing is: we don’t talk. Since his first text, I have initiated the majority of our interactions. He blew me off this weekend again because he’s been ‘sick’. When I press the point, he apologizes, saying his family gave it to him and he doesn’t want to pass it onto me. This would all be completely fine, I can take his words at face-value and believe him… but I just have this nagging feeling it isn’t the full truth. He doesn’t try to follow up with another date or even try to continue a conversation past the day. I don’t need to sugar coat things: it is more than likely he’s not interested. I just wish it would be said in an honest conversation.

So he wasn’t free Saturday night, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t. I went out to the Maddy to go dancing with my girls and rejecting the creepy guys. But man, I love being single and ending the night with a burrito in my mouth instead of a dick.

Maybe I’ll hear from him again but my New Year’s Resolution is to stop chasing dead-ends. That’s not to say I won’t pursue anyone or put myself out there to stay open to new possibilities but why waste my time and efforts on people that aren’t worth it? And as I already broke my “eat healthy” new year, new me resolution when I scarfed down a box of 20 Timbits, this is one I’ll try to keep.

Peace & ❤ until next week.

Mr. New York – Part 1

Miranda – My heart is pounding. My thoughts are erratic. I can’t sleep and when I finally do, I only dream of him.

Mr. New York. A fitting name, not only because he is from New York but, like the city itself, he makes me feel like anything’s possible. The world’s my oyster and someone incredible is out there for me, even if they live in a different country.

Let’s rewind to about 3 weeks ago when I decided to try my luck on OkCupid again. As you can tell from my previous posts, I haven’t exactly been successful on Tinder so I’m giving OkCupid another shot. After spending a week on there, I have become inundated with messages from slimy men and I’m left feeling quite unenthused with this alternate form of dating. Yes, maybe the messages themselves aren’t as sexually charged but the greasy moustached men aren’t particularly doing it for me either. I was losing hope fast until I received a message from an adorably dimpled guy from New York.

Oddly enough, earlier that day I met up with my ex-boyfriend for lunch, a year after from our breakup (a story for another time), and I finally got the closure I needed from that brief but intense relationship. I was ready to start again, turn the page, wipe the chalkboard clean, and whatever other kitschy line there is to depict a new beginning. So, Mr. New York popped into my life at the perfect moment. You might be wondering why I would even consider responding to someone so far away but my logic was “fuck it – YOLO, he’s cute and I don’t have much to lose at this point.”

2 days later, my phone had become glued to my hands. Our messages are fast and furious and I’m finding myself quickly gaining feelings for Mr. New York. He’s sweet, genuine, and so much fun to talk to. Our conversation flows so smoothly and it quickly has become second nature to wake up and go to sleep thinking about him. I can’t say I’ve ever felt like this with anyone else in such a short period of time too. Mr. New York is what I like to call perfectly imperfect. I’m not delusional and I realize he, like everyone else, has flaws but I choose to embrace them wholly.

By the third day, a Skype “date” session had become inevitable. I remember being nervous but he quickly settled my nerves and we talked for 2 hours before I forced myself to go to the gym. Mr. New York over Skype was what I pictured -dimply smile and all- and I felt extremely comfortable. Upon my return, we decided to Skype for the second time that day and I was relieved to see that he did not cower in fear of my post-gym look: sweaty, hair up, and no makeup. From there, we discussed the topic of visiting each other, and we resolved that it would make most sense for me to come to him in New York due to work schedules.

The next day, after a lot of back and forth deliberation and a healthy dose of persuasion from Mr. New York, I bought my round trip plane ticket (crazy, I know). Doing something so impromptu is very unlike me. For anyone that knows me, I like structure, plans, and thinking things through. But, it feels right and I’m at the prime moment in my life where I can afford to take chances like this.

Today marks 3 weeks since we started talking. Since then, we’ve been messaging 24/7 and Skyping every day, counting down the days till our eventual meet up. With every moment that passes, there is an electric combination of excitement and anxiousness. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and possibilities but this is a chance that I must take or else I know I’ll regret it. My bag is packed and I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. I leave tomorrow.

How far would you go for the possibility of love?

Well, seems like I’m about to find out. Peace out 6ix, hello New York City.