Mr. Love You, Love You Not

Carrie – On the advice of my friends Pam and Sam, I’ve started to watch Jane the Virgin. 15 episodes in one day later (I’ve had a very relaxing holiday season, okay?), young Jane asks her mom “what does love feel like?”

Jane’s question inspired me to try to encapsulate my answers in a blog post. So also on strongly-worded suggestions from Pam and Sam, I’ve decided to finally write this blog that I’ve been putting off: the “I’m finally in a relationship again and I’m not sure if I’m in love” post.

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There are definitely benefits to being in a serious relationship again and more importantly, committing to someone you really care about. I’ve got a cute, beardy, genuinely nice guy from small-town Manitoba (SO not 6ix) who not only texts me back but calls me first; someone who has got his shit together; moreso than me, with a job, car, and no insane amounts of debt (thanks #lawschool). Bonus: he’s got two eyebrows! (see Mr. Unibrow). He is quick-witted; he remembers minute details like when I randomly told him I hated the taste of Dasani water and weeks later, he grabbed me an Aquafina bottle at the gas station; and my brain’s dopamine levels probably go off the charts when I see him calling my phone. It’s for sure the most mature relationship I’ve been in, with someone who is willing to talk about our issues, own up, and apologize (cause he’s the one who’s always wrong).

But sometimes I have nagging single-girl tendencies that come creeping up from the depths of my subconscious.

  • For example, gone are the days of the stints of dry spells; I have a consistent sex-source. (But also my only sex source.)
  • No longer do I have to worry about finding someone who’s down to Netflix with me on a Friday night in the -30 weather when I don’t feel like going out, I’ve got a go-to cuddle buddy. (But sometimes I miss regaling my girlfriends with stories of the latest fuckbois over brunch.)

I’m not sure what I was waiting for. I mean that in two ways. Firstly, I don’t know why I made such a big deal of holding out for my tenth kill. In fact, it was putting myself out there back on the Tinder grind full-throttle led me to Mr. LY/LYN. And now, with the thought of being tied down again, I wonder if I did myself a disservice to not have “lived” a little more while I’m still in my prime (I am convinced I peaked in fourth year).

But secondly, and maybe more curiously, I mean holding off this blog post. Is it my need to have the holistic picture after the end of relationships to be able to write about it? Is it my fear of publicizing my rejection online if/when things inevitably come to an end? Is it my perpetual mode to be cynical?

So here is my attempt to Be Brave and write about the thing that scares me the most: have I fallen in love again?

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“What does love feel like? How do you know for sure you’re in love?”

While Jane’s mother responds, “it sort of feels like your heart is glowing,” I find this very unhelpful in terms of practical assessment. If I were writing on the show, I would say there should be:

Continue reading “Mr. Love You, Love You Not”

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An Ode to 2017

Samantha – Just this past week a new year has sprung, and as such I’m thinking of the men who have hung
Around for the past 300-odd days, there are some to forget and some worthy of praise.
So to keep this “year-end-review” both creative and fun, I’m attempting to rhyme about the conquests I’ve won.
This poem may seem lame and a little bit crass, but it’s just a joke so don’t take it that seriously you ass!
Ok, enough of this intro, let’s get to the deets. Recounting my love life in rhyme is truly a feat.

The year started out with a dry spell in fact, I’d insulted Boston Babe and he wasn’t coming back.
As well I was caught up in dramatic affairs, my best friend confessed he loved me but I couldn’t have cared.
That’s not true, I’ll admit, I cared a whole lot, but not in the way that he wanted I’m afraid not.
So he “dumped me” for a while as a friend and anything more, I was hurt, I was sad and a little unsure
How I could’ve been dumped from something I wasn’t in, a trend I now recognize with a little chagrin…

At the Superbowl I left during the halftime show, for a one night stand that cemented my spot as a ho
In the hookup hall of fame as I returned to my friend after finishing my tryst to watch the game’s end.
My next interaction came as quite a shock, I met a girl that I vibed with and our hookup? It was hot.
She wanted to see me again to my surprise but I had to cut that off because I really just like guys.

Fast forward a few months to my trip to San Fran, I left for the weekend with a friend and a plan
To have new experiences both wild and fun, little did I know that I’d be the wildest one.
UK Bae had a hold over me that I can’t quite describe, I swear when he looked at me I felt my insides
Flip over like gymnasts who would certainly win gold,  with a hookup to match I was basically sold.
This guy was amazing! I thought with glee, but that wasn’t entirely the full story you see,
Fore he had a girlfriend who wouldn’t be impressed, with my lust for her boyfriend, not my best move I will stress.
But I couldn’t ignore our connection which felt so strong, and we kept talking for months, both knowing it was wrong.
A couple months later our affair came to an end, the sexting was LIT but we didn’t see each other again.

Lucky for me I had many distractions, the night after UK Bae, Senor San Fran sprung into action.
Also a hookup that was top notch, this Mexican hottie lit a fire in my…..heart 😉
We also kept talking, even skyped once or twice, I was attracted to him and he was very nice,
But I didn’t want to keep up our constant communication and stopped answering his messages, except on occasion.
Oddly this sweet guy never did quit, and at the end of this month he’s coming to visit.

In August I went with Pam to Bolivia and Peru, we met 4 cute Irish boys, quite more than a few.
As usual, romance abroad is rather fortuitous, and  I met a cute Brit who came over to dance with us.
We had a little fun in my hostel bed, then I left at 6 am not catching feelings, but a flight instead.
I’ll note a couple of others who had little effect, who came in and out of my life as you’d expect:
One man from the bar who was on too much blow, another whose moves were just quite so-so.
A friend on Halloween became a little more, oh shit this poem is making me sound like a whore.

For those of you who are paying attention, at the beginning of this poem I happened to mention
That I’d break up with guys who I hadn’t been dating, a recurring issue equally as odd as it is grating.
One time in particular I went with a friend to watch a rugby game but then at the end
He referred to me as “his girl” not once and not twice, but often to strangers which I didn’t think was nice.
The next time we met for bacon and eggs, I broke up with him before our coffees reached the dregs.
He was totally aghast, shocked and offended, handed back my waterbottle and said “Our relationship has ended”.
I tried to keep a straight face and act all serious, but couldn’t believe he’d been so delirious.
He’s got a girlfriend now so maybe I’m Good Luck Chuck, But that doesn’t seem possible because we didn’t even fuuuuuuuu…

Through all of these stories, the good and the bad, I’m glad to report none have made me upset or mad,
Except for one dude who I didn’t even bang! Who is he? Yup, you guessed it, it’s Mr. Man.
Long story short the flirtation has lasted far beyond being fun and I wish I was past it!
Every time I feel over him he crops up once again, keeping me on the hook but insisting we’re friends
You’d think a man of his age would be fully grown, but 6 months later and I feel totally thrown
So I’m starting 2018 fresh and anew, with a resolution to stop wasting time where it’s undue.

And thus we end off the story of my year, I think that at this point it’s pretty clear
that I wasn’t on the lookout for one true love, but kept my mind open, indicative of
a year that turned out nothing short of amazing, no heartbreak, disrespect or men needing tazing.
While my flings came and went, as they so often do, I still think that I learned a grand thing or two:
Follow your heart but think with your head, and always feel empowered to kick that fuckboi out of bed.
I cannot wait to see what 2018 will bring, as long as it’s not Mr. Man drama, well then that’s a good thing!

@Mr.New Year’s (but not really)

It’s only been two days into 2018, and I’ve already managed to break my New Year’s Resolution for a ~new year new me~. Realistically, I managed to break it an hour into 2018, at the New Year’s party that I was at.

A few weeks ago, after I had just turned 24, I decided that there was a lot I wanted to do before I reached 25 – sort of like my own quarter life crisis. One of the things high on my list was to be more open to dating , be less shy and go with the flow when it comes to boys (for anyone that knows me knows that this is not typical of my usual dating behaviour). After a slow 2017 year consisting of only a handful of dates, a fling with Mr. Fast Food, and one random make out in South America – I decided this year I was going to put myself out there and have some fun, before I missed my chance.

There I went – jumping right back on the horse (aka downloading an app), and was actually having fun chatting with some nice and cute guys. This won’t be so bad I thought, dating can maybe even be fun as I tried to embrace my new mindset. Flash forward to New Year’s Eve at a big concert party in the six that I was very excited about. There was a great band playing, I was going with some great friends and most importantly the venue had a food court (I even got my face printed on a macaroon – HOW FUN)! The thought of talking to any boys was not really on my radar, nor even a possibility in my mind.

The party was great – we were dancing and having so much fun! In the middle of dancing, Sam, looked at me, and pointed out a cute guy who was apparently staring at me. I caught a quick glimpse and he was cute but I didn’t think anything of it as he walked past, maybe just confusing me for someone else. Not even a minute later he 180’s and backtracks to my group, not breaking eye contact the entire time, where I was and pulls me aside asking if I wanted to dance – how romantic! He was so cute, clearly interested and I had the approval from my friends that he was not only legit, but a great guy- what the hell was I waiting for. I don’t know if it was my shock of this happening or the fact that I’m really awkward– but I panicked for some stupid reason I decided that the appropriate response to what I was hoping would happen to me one day was “no thanks, I’m not a very good dancer”, with what I thought was a flirtatious giggle. WHAT. Immediately regretting my decision, because it was dumb AF, I tried to explain that I did want to but that I was just bad at dancing, which in a crowded bar, was really just blabbering on. As I tried to  salvage what may be left of my screw up, I realized that I had just messed up, when I should have just said “yes” and Mr.New Years had already decided that I wasn’t interested . A few minutes later he walked away and when I turned around, I already knew I screwed up and had that confirmation from my friends, who told me to run and find him and give him my number (which I most obviously didn’t do).

So this little, not even a really big deal to most people encounter started my new years off with a crash (instead of a bang 😉 ). The year that I wanted to be #noregrets, started off with a BIG regret. How could I want to be so bold and fun and embrace the single wild and free, and when a boy is there, basically on a silver platter in front of me, I manage to turn it away. After debriefing when we got home from the party, and mustering up courage to add him on Facebook New Year’s Day (aggressive, I know, but he did accept)! Not dancing with this boy may seem like the silliest thing, and you may even be wondering why on earth I actually spent time and wrote a blog post about it. But I am using this as my explanation to re-start my resolution and keep this regret and reminder as the push I need when faced in that same situation again. I feel like writing this town solidifies the fact that I will need to be more bold and open to new experiences, because if not now then when?

 

So with that, Happy New Year – hopefully I’ll have some more posts to share this year 😉

Mr. Handball

Miranda – In September of this year, I went on an epic solo vacation to Israel and Cyprus. To sum up my trip, think beaches, booze, partying, falafel, and orthodox Jews. Although meeting boys wasn’t a large aspect of my trip, I did walk away with one experience that is impossible not to share.

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This story is probably as close as I’m going to get to a Disney fairytale love story minus the G rating and the happily ever after ending. Picture this: an exhausted and gross looking me carrying a massive backpack, standing outside the Tel Aviv airport trying to figure out how to get to my hostel. I have just been informed that since it was Shabbat, the whole country, including trains and transportation, had been shut down. Lucky me. There must have been a look of panic and stress on my face because a man with a suitcase approached me asking if I needed help. Turns out he was an undercover security guard posing as a tourist. He guided me to the taxis as that was now my only option to get to the city, but not before asking me for my number. Still frazzled and confused, I gave it to him – not out of interest but more out of not wanting to reject him after helping me, and who knows what type of heat he was packing under his fake tourist clothes.

I head over to the taxi stand and try to call one through a machine. Beside me I hear someone say “don’t do that – it’s a waste of time. Just order it from the person over there.” I turn around and there’s this tall, hot guy, later to be known as Mr. Handball, walking past me. I yell thank you and start talking to the taxi coordinator, only to be in shock at the price to get to Tel Aviv. Still carrying my backpack, the hot guy is now in a taxi and motions for me to come over. I guess he too, noticed my anxiety, because he asked if I want to split the taxi with him since we’re headed in the same direction. His dad was seated in the front of the taxi, so it made me feel comfortable enough to say yes and literally get in a car with a stranger. We talk in the backseat throughout the drive and the driver drops them off first, but not before Mr. Handball asks for my number. Surprised yet again, this time however, I willingly gave my number. After he left, I couldn’t help but thinking: I’ve been in Israel for less than an hour, and have already been picked up twice. This is definitely something I could get used to.

Fast forward to the next day, Mr. Handball messages me and offers to take me out and show me around. I’m totally game and he picks me up Saturday night at 11pm from my hostel. He’s hotter than I remember and I’m already looking forward to my first Israeli hookup. Only in the car does he tell me that he’s a professional handball player and his first game of the season is the next day. Because of this, we can’t go to bars or clubs in Tel Aviv as we had originally planned because he can’t be seen out drinking the night before a game and Tel Aviv is relatively small, so he would definitely run into people he knew. Instead, we drive to a quiet street and sit on a closed restaurant’s patio drinking from my little Smirnoff mickey I brought (I always like to be prepared). He then pulls out some cigarettes, tells me he shouldn’t be smoking before the game either, but we go ahead and share a few anyways. I’m getting drunk at this point and he pulls me over to his lap and brings me in for a kiss. At this point we’ve run out of alcohol, so he offers going back to his place to grab some more alcohol before we go out to a club. Ignorant little me thought we’d just swing by his place first to quickly to down some shots and then head out but of course, we ended up having sex (which would seem obvious, in hindsight). Mr. Handball mentions that having sex before a game is also not good for performance but it’s not like it stopped his advances on me nor did I give a shit of how he played tomorrow as long as he was playing me well now.  By now it’s past 2am and all the clubs are near closing but we try driving around to find a nearby spot anyways. With no luck finding anything open at this time, he takes me to the beach and picks up some Israeli snacks for me to try (side note – they have the most amazing Cheetos type things made out of peanuts, it’s divine). It was a mixture of chilled out talking and cheeky high school fooling around until 5am before he dropped me back off at my hostel.

The next day he messaged me saying his team lost the game. I guess at this point I shouldn’t even be surprised, he did warn me. But – I was clear from the get-go that he couldn’t put the blame on me for making the decision to drink, smoke and have sex before a big game.

All in all, it is one of my personal favourite hookup stories. It’s just too bad it started from the moment I landed and began my vacation, as nothing after that lived up to the hype and excitement of my meeting Mr. Handball.

Mr. Fast Food

They say that things happen when you’re not looking, and that’s exactly what happened to Mr. Fast food and I.

Flashback to the spring: work was busy, my social life was crowded, and I was counting down until my summer vaca, which was filled with travel. Needless to say my dating life was at a standstill and I had sworn off dating – “I’ll look for a boyfriend in September” is what I told my pestering friends and family and once they agreed to believe that, my life was in balance.

Until one day I came to work and my co-worker, giddy as ever, ran up to me announcing “I have a boy” with excitement I was ready to listen to her recent boy story, until she finished her thought and said “for you”. Before hearing anything about him I quickly told her thanks but no thanks that I was sticking with it and like I just said, I had sworn off dating and was not about to change my mind. Well this didn’t stop her and she continued with it, telling me about this guy: cute, smart and most importantly funny. Though my interest was peaked I stood my ground and told her I was not interested. She asked if she could give him my number to which I said (surprisingly) no, to which she proceeded with “okay I’ll message it to him” before I could even respond.

Before I knew it, Mr. Fast Food started messaging me and just as quickly my heart started fluttering. Some creeping confirmed he was cute, and his texts made me LOL (for real) on more than one occasion, that when he asked to hang out I was already hooked and I broke my own promise and said yes.

I met him for Sunday afternoon coffee, at which we both ordered hot chocolate (can you say match made in heaven), and maybe it was all the sugar but our energy was undeniable with a date lasting 3 hours and I still didn’t want it to end. He was confident, unfiltered and hilarious, he’s not an awkward person but the first date awkwardness vanished basically before the date began. He messaged me by the time I got home, and the chatting continued until he secured himself a second date and I made it very clear that I was very into him.

Our next few dates exploring the six consisted of dinners, ice cream dates, Jays games and patio drinks. Each one was more fun than the last and I was hooked. The best part about Mr fast food was that he loved to cook and he was great at it too. He really understood that the way to my heart was through my stomach and always cooked the best meals and treats – it might have been part of the reason I was always so excited to hang with him (just kidding…).

It was the most comfortable I’ve ever been so quickly with anyone that the sleepovers, hook ups and ~deep~ convos came earlier than I could have ever expected. I was so into him, and was so comfortable with him that he became my number 2 (meaning the second guy I’ve ever slept with) and it was great. Not only did I get to break my year-long dry spell (I know) but I overcame the idea that sex with someone new would be awkward and weird – but that it was fun and just as great as I remembered 😉

However, Mr. Fast Food became less available as he traded his job at the vet with cute dogs for a cook at a new burgers and fries joint (not complaining because I love both), but the change of hours made him less available which sucked because I was leaving the six for the summer. Our ‘pre me leaving’ hangouts were becoming less and less and also began consisting of more movies, and Netflix and chills without as much of the chill. I chalked it up to our post-work hangouts that left us tired and didn’t worry about it at all. I left for the Pacific Northwest not thinking much of it and speaking to Mr. fast food everyday – whether it be talk or FaceTime and even referred to him with the “boyfriend” term on the trip because that’s where I thought it was heading.

Once I came home after a month – I couldn’t find the excitement to see him. After a month apart I went over to see him (mostly out of obligation) and was not impressed when his idea for our date day was to “watch a movie and nap”. And by watch a movie I don’t mean “watch a movie ;)” but actually finish the film. Huh. I could tell the vibe was off and it felt like I was hanging with an old pal rather than a new flame and that wasn’t going to work for me. I did the cowardish thing and blamed a headache for the reason of my quick depart, frantically sped dialling my best friend that I didn’t like him anymore and didn’t know what to do. I successfully avoided his texts for an entire weekend until I had to face it on Monday – I needed to break up with Mr. fast food. He took it well and we parted ways – still on good terms talking about the CNE and tossing each other the occasional Instagram like (I mean what says “friendship” more than that?!)

Like fast food, I was addicted for a bit until I realized that this thing with Mr. Fast Food wasn’t sustainable. Though Mr. Fast Food was funny and nice, he lacked the ambition and drive that I needed for this to go “next level”. Needless to say my motto is still fries over guys, even if the guys come with fries.

Until next time!