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”

Mr. Special Ops

Carrie – When my friend offered me her place to stay in Seoul and my credit card supplied me with free flights, I impulsively booked my four Asian-metropolis trip for May: Tokyo, Shanghai, Busan and Seoul.

We met interesting people along the way, that’s for sure. One night in Tokyo, we ended up at as the only two girls at this karaoke bar, where I proceeded to get serenaded and dipped by the big, burly bartender to Enrique Iglesias’ “Hero” (song is forever ruined).

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Cue to my last weekend Seoul, where I develop what I will term “Seoul Goggles” which is essentially a “do it for the blog” mentality.

Continue reading “Mr. Special Ops”

Mr. Heart Emoji – Part Two

[Hey, if you haven’t read Part One, you might get confused. Click the link here!]

Carrie – In true blackout fashion, I remember saying “cheers” with my gal pal and Mr. Heart Emoji on our third round of tequila shots. Then not much more.

I am blackout at the pre but in cruel, cruel fashion, my brain can recall one interaction. Profusely flirting with Mr. Grilled Cheese, we end up as the only two people in the one of two rooms, probably because I was making everyone uncomfortable with my aggressive flirtation. (I was told later I was doing this IN FRONT OF Mr. Heart Emoji because I am a fuckgirl). I drunkenly confess to Mr. Grilled Cheese, “Well like you’re the last person I’ve slept with! Aren’t I the last person you’ve slept with?”

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I still cringe at how much of an embarrassment I like to make my life. Then he stutters “uhhhh” for approximately a minute. I save him by telling him I know I’m not, call him a manwhore, and top it off with a, “But I know you’re into me.” To my dismay, he answers, “A little bit.” Me: “A little bit?” “Yeah, a little bit.” I swear I probably would have mounted him right there if we weren’t in public cause I am such a horny little drunk.

I end up at a bar. How I got there, not too sure. As far as I’m concerned, Mr. Grilled Cheese was not there. I remember snippets of sitting in a booth with my gal pals and Mr. Heart Emoji, and also snippets of drinking water out of the bathroom faucet, just to prove that 23 is still not a classy age. I think I had fun and my Visa bill proves that.

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Accurate depiction of me receiving my visa bill.

Now the next bit is where it gets interesting. There is a 24 hour diner near the bars in Ottawa. At that point, I was not aware of this. (Now that I am, that Visa bill will only continue to grow.)

Mr. Heart Emoji and I wind up there. Alone. I deduce he must have asked me to go at 2 AM because I’m confused why we’re in a booth alone and none of our friends join us. But I happily order a $16 burger (one that I later proceed not to eat a single bite of) when a classmate shows up. Now let’s call him Tree cause he is ridiculously tall and dresses like a lumberjack. Tree starts by asking if he’s interrupting me and Mr. Heart Emoji. We say no, then he sits beside me and Tree asks, “but you guys are gonna bang tonight, right?”

Continue reading “Mr. Heart Emoji – Part Two”

King of the Douchelords

Disclaimer: I am writing this as a two-parter for those of you who frankly don’t care enough about my love life to subject yourself to this much reading. For those of you who do stay the course, I thank you and God help me. Part 2 here: The Fling’s the Thing

It all started about a week ago with a guy I’d been talking to on tinder. We agreed to meet up so he came over and we sat on my terrace drinking wine and chatting. When hunger struck we grabbed a bite, which he willingly paid for, before heading back to my place. We had a great connection, sharing a lot in common and I really enjoyed his company. It seemed only natural that he’d stay the night, which he did, but the next morning I couldn’t help feeling underwhelmed, in all departments if you catch my drift.

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As a consultant in town from Boston, he seemed like the perfect candidate for a fun little fling, but if I wasn’t interested in what this fling could offer then what was the point? Despite the okay hookup we kept chatting on and off but I wasn’t sure if I would see him again.

Fast forward to Friday night while out with some people from work. We were having a great time and I was vibing with this guy who I’d always thought was cute. He’d had a girlfriend till about a week prior but was now single so….I’m sure you can see where this is going.

Well, however you think this story ends, you’re probably wrong.

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Cut to the next morning after he’d gone home. I recounted the details of the night to Miranda who’d been out with us only to realize they were pretty friggen horrendous. I remembered feeling insulted and uncomfortable a number of times the night before but became increasingly bothered as I spoke the deets out loud… A highlight reel of my night with king of the douchelords:

  • We hook up and I immediately get a speech all about how I need to be aware that this was just a hook up, he’d just gotten out of a long term relationship and how I wasn’t to try trap him in something. Uhm excuse me sir? Could you be more patronizing??? You cleeearly know nothing about me because if you did you’d understand that I don’t want anything from you either. But ok, whatever, guys give this speech all the time (as I would soon find out) so I let it slide.
  • We continue to hook up and I kiss him – as normal people do – only to be asked why I had done that when we had just clarified that our hookup was strictly physical. This is when I started to say WTF. I am not a prostitute and will absolutely kiss you if you’re in my bed, its part of the package deal. I can separate kissing from emotions and if you can’t then that’s your problem, not mine…Douche.
  • And finally, the piece de resistance: he actually tried snapchatting a post-coital pic of me to his friends! And his response to my protests? “Don’t worry; your boobs don’t have to be in it”. WOW, really? Thanks so much, you’re such a great guy!!!

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If you can believe it he still had the audacity after all that to tell me that we should keep this between the two of us. Yea, cuz snapchat is a very private and intimate realm…Sorry bud, no can do, this is 100% going on my blog.

I couldn’t believe the rudeness of his behaviour, but you must remember that I was drunk too and ended up making a (BIG) mistake. He slept over – I did ask why the F he’d wanted to given his many rules about what “just a hook up” means – and we ended up hooking up again at 6:30 in the morning. He immediately ducked out to get ready for a noon brunch and….I know, I KNOW! Not only does that reasoning REEK of bullshit but I definitely shouldn’t have hooked up with him again. Uch, I never claimed to be innocent in this story.

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Anyway, those are the main points I’m actually willing to share about this experience but let it be known that this isn’t an exhaustive list of his douchebaggey behaviour. Obviously, I was really upset about it the next day, at him but even more so at myself for not having more self-respect. I was used but I had let myself be used and that was a tough pill to swallow.

I ended up moping around for the entire next day, feeling cheap and pretty disappointed in myself until sometime in the afternoon Charlotte mentioned she’d come to a male-related epiphany over a laffa wrap. Well, I couldn’t find any decent middle-eastern food, but I did find some peace after a long walk and a seriously emo playlist, and decided I would just chalk it up to a shitty experience that didn’t have to define me.

I’ll pause here, so if you’re only interested in hearing about one of the worst hook ups of my life then feel free to stop reading. But if you’ve been paying attention and are wondering what happened to Boston Boy I suggest reading on, because my next post is when I stop being a hoe and start getting real. The Real World – Toronto Edition.

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Mr. F*** Boy

Guest Post!!! The following entry is from our newest contributor to DTT6 and we know you’re going to love her 🙂 Sign off in the comment section below and let us know what you think. 

I am excited to share with you quite an exhilarating story that is quite out of character for me. The experience taught me a lot about myself, what I want in a man and more importantly all about the modern day fuck boy.  We have all heard of him or encountered him  – the boy/man who at the end of the day just wants to fuck and nothing else. It can be quite fun but does the short-term pleasure make the potential long-term aggravation worth it? Lets find out.

We matched on JSwipe and our conversation quickly escalated to the topic of “What brings you to this app?” He blatantly mentioned that he was strictly looking for someone to connect with on a physical level. At first I was a little weary but after casually talking for a few days his texts made me straight up horny. He expressed everything he liked in bed and explained to me that he definitely had a kinky side. He sounded spontaneous, exciting and made me feel comfortable about my desires and fantasies.  We would text all day until finally I couldn’t take it any longer – I wanted this guy! I wanted to unleash my wild side and told myself to have fun and go for it so we planned to meet up.

At approximately 9:00pm on a Thursday night, after a fashion show, I stood at the corner of King and John waiting for Mr. Fuck Boy to roll up and pick me up at the side of the road. (Seriously how fucked up and unsafe is that.) I entered this stranger’s car with a lot of nerves but they quickly faded away after he greeted me with a kiss! I was totally taken back but after we started to talk I couldn’t believe what a normal and nice guy he was. He drove to Cherry Beach and parked his car in the parking lot upon arrival. We wasted no time and had sex in the back of his car. Due to the lack of space, limbs were everywhere, clothes were stuck and we were very squished and close together. Positions were limited but this romp got the job done. I was satisfied. The chemistry was great and overall it was a totally fun, carefree and awesome experience. He drove me to where my car was parked and that was it for the night.

We made plans to do it all over again a few days later at a hotel that he had booked. To be honest I felt like a hoe meeting a guy at a hotel but YOLO. The sex was much better in a bed this time around and I found him to be quite cuddly for a Fuck Boy. After getting to know him more and having him tell me that he was not interested in engaging in any activity other then sex, I realized that I was just another casual fuck girl of his.  This guy was totally all about “why buy the cow when I can get the milk for free.” It didn’t sit very well. I didn’t want to be cuddled and caressed by someone I couldn’t catch feelings for. Overall, I had a great time with him and really enjoyed myself. We parted ways a few hours later with a quick kiss and left things as “see ya later.” He went three days without texting me, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but after I responded back to that message it took him another three days to respond. Ummm what? Mr. Fuck Boy better had his thumbs cut off or something?! Too long. Point blank, unacceptable in my opinion. Three days for a response did not sit well with me, like come on you’re not dead. After addressing this behaviour as a major red flag I realized that even if this was just a casual romp I should be texted back within a decent amount of time and at the end of the day I want more than just sex. I want a great dinner companion for the pre or post event – like lets be real! Anyways, after he expressed interest to meet again (after mentioning that he has been really busy lately) I politely declined telling him that even though I really enjoyed sleeping with him and that I had a truly amazing time, we wanted different things and it was best to not do it again. He put up no fight and accepted what I said with an “okay.” The End.

I learned a couple things about myself. Firstly, I definitely have a kinky side that I’d like to further explore and secondly I’m a total sex goddess and proud of it.  Despite these lessons, I realized that as a classy woman with high self-esteem, it is important for me to be treated like one. I know that I am more than just a body for some guy to fuck and its okay to say no and not give in especially if it won’t make me feel good or give me what I want.  There have been moments where after spending time with other boring guys who don’t sexually excite me I have considered re-connecting with Mr. Fuck Boy but at the end of the day I remind myself that it is just not a good idea. My advice to all you classy bitches out there is to know your self worth and don’t settle for a Mr. Fuck Boy who can’t give everything you want.

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 ❤

 

 

 

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”

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”

Mr. Lucky Charms

You know when you’re in a situation and there’s no possibility of any hookup happening? Like when you’re vacationing at a cabin in the middle of buttfuck-nowhere-Quebec with your family. Ya, that was me over new years. I left two days after Mr. Lawyer happened and had already mentally prepped myself for a good week of family bonding and copious amounts of food, with no boys to distract me or qualm my ever rising sexual needs. But when does a plan ever work out how you imagined?

Turns out, one of my sisters invited her best friend, who then invited her boyfriend, who then invited his nephew. So, yes, there was a young Irish man that was unrelated to me (hence Mr. Lucky Charms) staying in the cabin. All of a sudden my new year’s resolution plans of being a good girl were squandered.

Mr. Lucky Charms was cute and dorky, glasses and all, and a charming Irish accent with which I only understood about 60% of his words. He was tall and had a lean build, but I was surprised to find out that he was pretty fit (more like discovered while we were in the hot tub).  Even though he was on my radar, I never truly intended for anything to happen. I was surrounded by family after all and in a way, he’s a family friend. It was fun just thinking about hooking up with said foreign man while on vacation. The notion of it was exciting and risqué.

It wasn’t until the second half of the vacation, when I was given the task of giving every single family member one of my infamous massages that a story worthy of this blog began. Eventually, it was Mr. Lucky Charm’s turn. I lathered his back in a healthy dose of massage oil and dove in. Feeling a bit frisky (maybe from the spiked eggnog), I may have added a little bit extra to his massage experience and I’m pretty sure he got the hint. Later that evening, my family decided to make a small trip to Montreal to explore the city and check out the Christmas markets. On cue, both Mr. Lucky Charms and I both decided to stay in the cabin along with my sister’s boyfriend. I feigned tiredness but mostly I just wanted to see how far I could take it with the Irish guy and see if luck really was on my side.

After everyone had left, Mr. Lucky Charms and I hung out and gravitated to the hot tub where things really started getting hot and steamy. It was the first time I had done anything like that but I gotta say, there is something extremely hot about hooking up while it is -20 degrees Celsius in the middle of a pitch black forest with the stars twinkling above. I guess I can check that off my bucket list now. In fact, it was so cold that my hair had froze into icicles coming out of my head. On top of this, there was the added bonus and adrenaline rush with the risk of getting caught by my sister’s boyfriend who was just chilling a few feet from us inside. At one point we were so close to getting caught but somehow (at least to our knowledge) we managed to survive that. My family returned later that night and although they made some suspicious comments, we held our ground and their questions stopped.

It was a lot of fun and we decided to push our luck and try one more time the last night in the cabin. Unfortunately, the layout of this house was open concept and neither of us had a room to ourselves. At this point the only logical option was to wake up at 3am and hookup in the living room. The risk factor was off the charts as my dad was just sleeping down the hall but we managed to keep quiet and once again Mr. Lucky Charms lived up to his name.

The next day we all hopped into our cars and made the trek back to the 6ix. Mr. Lucky Charms was staying in Toronto for one more night before he flew back to Vancouver where he was working. Interestingly, he asked me to hang out for his last night. I agreed and we ended up having an enjoyable time doing the most stereotypical first date shenanigans you can think of: dinner, movie and playing pool.  We held hands throughout even though we were both well-aware nothing would come out of it. I really do think he is a sweet guy and someone I would be open to dating but alas this will just remain an epic story about some vacation I had one time.

One thing is for sure though. The luck of the Irish is a real thing. I gotta get this shit bottled up.

Why I gave up dating apps and I’m happier

Carrie – I was watching an episode of Chelsea Handler’s new Netflix Series, Chelsea Does Marriage, where she features testimonials from her friends, family and complete strangers (ie. BDSM threesomes) on marriage, love, and relationships. One of the couples says, “We met online like everyone these days.”

I looked over at my sister, who recently met her boyfriend on Bumble (you’re welcome for forcing you to get it one drunken night). I thought of all the couples getting together and it was one of three things: a) work/school, b) mutual friends, or c) online. When you live in a city as isolating as Toronto can be, dating apps might be your best option.
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