The Runner

Introducing our brand new contributor, Mindy Lahiri! She self-identifies as her own worst enemy when it comes to love and is looking to break some old patterns.  If you ask me (Samantha), she’s hilarious, courageous in her pursuit of love and has a massive heart.  Welcome Mindy to DTT6! 

Rewind to two years ago. I am new to the city and excited to be closer to all my friends and be working in a new job- but also am extremely unhappy with who I am as a person and felt as though I had no purpose. One of the friends I had in the city wanted to introduce me to “this guy who had seen my IG page and thinks I’m cute”. So after seeing his page, I was thinking to myself.. theres NO way this guy, thinks I’m cute.. but sure, let’s give it a try. Let’s call this guy The Runner.

After about a month of following each other on Instagram we finally met in person. He was (and still is) one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever laid my eyes on. He’s tall, dark, handsome and seemed to have his s*** together. To me at the age of 23, I couldn’t help but be drawn to this 31 year old man with his own apartment, an education and a steady job. Most importantly, he was kind hearted, intelligent and funny. He crossed off all the boxes for me and from the moment I met him (maybe even before I met him), I knew that I was going to fall so hard for this guy.

I remember the details of us meeting so vividly it might scare some people. We met on a Thursday night with our mutual friend there and I was too nervous to actually speak cause well, he was human perfection. From there, the DM’s started and eventually started texting each other. We hung out that next night and had some of the most mindblowing sex I’ve ever had. You know how sometimes sleeping with a new person can be awkward.. it was not like that with The Runner. He understood me and my body in a way that I don’t think I had experienced until then. We slept and cuddled that whole night, and then hung out the next night. Drank wine, talked about deep life stuff and had some amazing sex. When I wasn’t with him, I was thinking about him and being with him. You know that feeling when someone lights your crotch on fire but also makes you feel things emotionally? Yeah, this was that.

From there, we continued to text regularly and hangout on a pretty consistent basis. We went for dinner a couple times, but for the most part the hanging out was later at night in his apartment and usually involved sex and cuddling. He expressed to me numerous times that he was not looking for a relationship and that he was working on healing himself from his past relationship (**Some context: we started hanging out a month after his live in girlfriend and him ended… BAD IDEA) and that he wanted to figure out his career etc. I heard what he said and where he was at and in the moment because I so desperately wanted him, I agreed with him and told him I was okay with casual. In reality, I did not accept it and I continued to hope for more and that maybe one day we will work out. But nothing ever changed.. it all boiled down to us being at different places in our lives and wanting different things. But there was something about him that I could not let go of. Eventually, after 9 months of being 100% emotionally invested in someone who couldn’t even meet me 10% of the way- he started seeing someone else and we stopped talking. Don’t you love falling for an emotionally unavailable guy??

When he told me that he was seeing someone and that he wanted to see things through with her, it was one of the most painful things to hear. I thought it was going to be me and I was so furious that I had wasted so much of my time. I was mad at myself and mad at him. Turns out that it was ALL in my head. The hardest part of that was that I created a narrative in my head and expected him to live up to that- without the courtesy of a conversation to communicate what I expected. How’s a person supposed to live up to expectations they don’t know even exist?

So anyway, from there we went about a year without seeing or speaking to each other. I had convinced myself that I was over him.. I dated other people and I threw myself into my friendships and work. But The Runner was someone I thought about all the time. It didn’t matter that he had a new girlfriend.. I still thought, “maybe one day”. Just as I thought I was over him for good, I ran into him at an event and I felt like my legs turned to jello and I couldn’t form proper sentences. He gave me a hug and just his physical presence sent me way back in time. After seeing him I was anxious, I was sad, I had all these feelings that had been repressed for almost a year and they all surfaced at once.

After some really intense therapy sessions, talks with friends, A LOT of writing (we’re talking numerous notebooks full) I realized a few things:

  1. I lacked so much self love and respect that I was willing to let just about anybody stay in my life
  2. I was so scared of being alone and not having someone to love the parts of myself that I did not love- that I settled
  3. The behaviours I have with men are a reflection of how I feel about myself
  4. I was depending on someone else to make me happy because I couldn’t make myself happy.. that’s a fuck ton of pressure to put on a person who cant even make themselves happy
  5. If something doesn’t feel right at first, it likely isn’t
  6. That entire situation had NOTHING to do with me and everything to do with HIM
    1. It wasn’t a question of whether I was worthy or good enough for him.. we just didn’t have timing on our side
    2. He said himself “the only thing that was wrong with you was that you expected long deep conversations at 3 AM”

All of this made me think: which unhealed part of me is that desperate for love and affection that I consistently settle for less than I deserve? Why was I not good enough for him? WILL I EVER BE GOOD ENOUGH??

Those are some pretty loaded questions that I am still figuring out how to answer. But in regards to The Runner I know I am finally at peace with the situation. It took a lot of work and a lot of digging deep within myself- because a lot of the reason I was so “sad” about him- really had nothing to do with him and had everything to do with me and who I was. Yes, he treated me poorly at times and he has since apologized and he was not innocent in the whole thing but neither was I. I am so beyond grateful for what I went through with him because it taught me so much. If I had known 2 years ago what I know now, I never would have let it get that far with him.. but I was meant to learn that lesson the hard way and I’m glad I did.

Since then, The Runner and I have become friends. I joke that he is my best friend and it makes my REAL best friends, aka Samantha, upset. He is not my best friend, but he is someone who knows me and knows how hard things were for me and knows all the growing up I had to do to get to the place I am at now. If you even asked me 3 months ago about The Runner, the story would have gone a lot differently- but now that I am at peace with it 100% and I know that him and I are on good terms, I can finally close that chapter of my life and look back knowing that it helped to make me a stronger woman and a stronger person. On to the next..

PS- This whole article was written while sitting across from The Runner at a local coffee shop.

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Samantha meets Smith

Have you ever felt your heart squeeze? Not in a concerning way requiring emergency services or medical intervention…I’m talking about the oddly pleasant sensation that feels like someone reached into your chest and tightened their grip. You know that one? I call it Love.

Why do I describe this, you ask? Well loyal readers, I am in love. The jump in head first, all-consuming, giggle-for-no-reason kind of love. It’s true! When we left off I was a recovering toxic-relationship junkie, just on the other side of my most recent relapse with Mr. Man, and today I am a woman free from her vices. In fact, my last blog post declaring our finality was just a few weeks into my then-budding relationship, which is now almost 6 months long. How the hell did that happen?

Well, without belaboring the past or belittling my journey to get here, I want to try to summarize the last few months. Toward the end of August I was entirely trapped in an emotional tower of my own making. Given I am still in full-time work and full-time school mode, I didn’t think I could handle a real relationship, nor did I think I wanted one. Without a real need to leave Mr. Man behind, I didn’t feel like I had to, keeping me trapped in my tower for far too long. Now, I’m not one who typically subscribes to fairy tale tropes, but in true Disney fashion, it was my Prince Charming (Smith) who showed me how to break out from behind the wall I’d built around me.

Smith is unlike anyone I have ever dated. He is strong but kind, smart but sensitive and intense but doesn’t take himself too seriously. He is in a word, balanced, and I am in a word, not. My parents have always described me as going from 0-100 real quick, a pattern I have only reinforced through my experiences with men time and time again. But that’s why he’s different. He evens me out. I feel calmer around him without ever feeling dulled, something I have grown to truly cherish.

I feel like I almost didn’t have a choice but to fall in love with Smith. There was a time early on in our relationship when I did something stupid to try keep him at a distance, for fear of getting too close. As mentioned in the past, I’m one of those dumbasses who likes to push people away only to confirm their fears of being left alone. And can you really blame me? I spent a year holding back  emotions from the person I cared about, so being vulnerable and trusting of his feelings for me was way harder than I expected. Nonetheless, instead of letting me push him away with my typical habits, he (figuratively and literally) held on, showing me I could depend on him entirely. After meeting in undoubtedly the most stressful time in my life, he has loved me at every mood and brought me a sense of comfort that I’m very grateful for.

I am self-aware enough to recognize that I have a Type-A personality and fiend control. I (like most people) just want to eliminate some of the ambiguity that exists in everyday life. But this super busy schedule of mine doesn’t leave enough space to be a control freak and getting used to that definitely took some time…In my past, exes have complained that I never full let go and always need to do things for myself, a criticism I’d taken offense to…Why should they do something for me that I can do it for myself? I pride myself on being fiercely independent, but the extreme lengths I’ve pushed myself to this year have forced me to rely on Smith, not from a want but from sheer necessity. Part of me thinks that we might not be together if not for my busy-ness, which has forced me to relinquish my fear of showing weakness and to let my man bring me lunch when I forget it at home. He wants to help because he cares, and I shouldn’t misattribute his kindness as a sign of my own weakness, something I wouldn’t have recognized otherwise.

The past 6-months have been some of the best of my life. Though I’ve felt challenged like never before I’ve maintained a healthy dose of perspective as well. If work sucks or I get a shitty grade it doesn’t change the person I am or the fact that someone loves that person. To date, this blog has been used as to encapsulate the ups and downs of dating, with my friends (and I) finding it hard to blog about an ongoing relationship. Nonetheless, I’ll keep trying to keep up the blog, as my attempts to explain this healthy, promising and real situation has only reinforced how healthy, promising and real it really is. I don’t know what the future holds for us but I am lucky to have met such a wildly patient and understanding man and am excited to see what comes next. 

The 6ix Month Relationship

Miranda – I’m so proud of the title of this blog post. It just hit me like a ton of bricks and I realized it was the perfect depiction of what I’ve been going through the past half year…

I’d like to thank Pam Beesley for her insightful blog post and inspiration for getting me to write this. She reminded me that we had this marvelous platform as an outlet to vent,
write our feelings and just genuinely sort our internal shit out.

My last post, The Fkboi Myth, made me realize how much has changed since I initially wrote it. The boy in question in that post, Mr. Black, ended up being such a whirlwind
of an experience. As of 2 weeks ago, it’s officially over, but not without some highs and low, and bumps and bruises.

The reason why I call this the 6ix month relationship is because this is as long and as close as I’ve had to a real relationship. Yes, I’ve had a “bf” years ago but that ended in
under 2 months due to me going on an International Exchange in school. Mr. Black, on the other hand, lasted just under 6 months and we were in an exclusive but not a committed, serious relationship (so no boyfriend/girlfriend labels). Essentially, just like the Fkboi central city we live in, it was the epitome of a very 6ix style relationship.

For the purposes of this post, I would like to rename him from Mr. Black to Mr. Nigerian Prince. I’ve decided to change his nickname from Mr. Black to Mr. Nigerian Prince because it’s a much more accurate reflection of him. I think Mr. Black at the time was a quick decision by picking on his most obvious physical trait in that it was the first black guy I’ve really dated and well…slept with. Up until now I’ve maybe just kissed 1.5 black guys (3 mixed people – do the math). I know I’m perhaps being racist with my explanation but I’m just saying it as it is. Before this, I’ve never been particularly
interested in dating black guys but let’s just say, after this experience, my
mind (and legs), are much more open to the thought. Maybe an entire separate
blog post is needed on this to explain my new found affinity towards black men.

Anyways, he is now Mr. Nigerian Prince because he is a recent expat from Nigeria. And like all traditional Nigerian Prince situations, it was kind of a scam. But, in this
case, he wasn’t scamming me, I was scamming myself.

Let me explain. One of the best (and worst) aspects of getting to know him was his brutal honesty. Quite early on he was upfront that he does not do committed relationships (like, ever) – but he was happy to be exclusive with me. I was taken aback when I first learned this but I consciously decided to remain with him, as it would be a test and learning experience for myself. Could I deal with gray areas? What does it mean to be exclusive but not committed? Is it just labels or is there actually a difference? In the back of my mind, I knew it would come to an close eventually because of his non-commital ways, but it was still something I was willing to see through. So, I guess in that sense I was scamming myself.

Even so, I have no regrets about deciding to pursue this. From the beginning to the end, it’s been a fascinating experience and I’m honestly just proud of myself for coming out
of it relatively unscathed. The fact that I allowed it to last this long in such a gray space is a miracle for someone as high strung and anxious as me. But in the end I had to call it quits, as I eventually learned, among other things, that this was not a good fit for me anymore. To sum up, these are the biggest learnings and takeaways from my time with Mr. Nigerian Prince:

  1. I should not hold  onto my feelings and build up resentment. I cannot expect someone, especially a guy, to be able to read my mind and my mood swings. It’s only fair to open up and communicate them clearly with my expectations and my feelings. Ask them for what you want, so  everything’s fair game and on the table. How he decides to react and act is then on him and you can gauge appropriately from there.
  2. Believe what a guy tells you if he’s speaking honestly. It’s not your role to “read between the lines” or decide whether he actually knows what he wants or not. You either decide to accept him as he is and perceives himself, or don’t accept him at all and move on. Just don’t ask him or force him to change, because that’s unhealthy for both of you.
  3. How to breakup with someone (first one didn’t go so well, second one went a lot smoother). And the emotional rollercoaster that happens afterwards. I didn’t know I was capable of ugly crying for the better part of a day nonstop, mam, that was exhausting. In fact, I’m still in the recovery stage now and trying to figure out the next steps are to get over it.
  4. What I’m capable of giving in a relationship. Throughout my time with Mr. Nigerian Prince, I had to hold back so much with him. I felt ready to give so much more, whether that be in the form of my time, emotional vulnerability, and the desire of creating new experiences together. So, it was very frustrating for me to constantly quiet my internal wants and ultimately, this was what drove me to ending it.
  5. What I want in a relationship. The qualities of a man that ACTUALLY matters. Not their height, their looks, or what they do. I want to focus on how they make me feel, that our communication styles match, and that they are emotionally available and ready to commit.
  6. Lastly, I have jungle fever. This is an exciting realization because it opens up my dating pool much more.

Again, I feel really thankful for this experience and even though ending it wasn’t easy, it’s what was right for me. The crying was definitely ugly (which left my face so puffy I had slits for eyes), and the companionship (and his fine ass) will definitely be missed. However, since coming to terms with what I want, it no longer made sense to keep it going. I was pouring my energy and time into a vessel with a hole in it and left feeling drained.

6ix months later, it’s 2019 and I feel empowered. It’s time to make room for new experiences and to meet other sexy men.

The Fkboi Myth

Miranda – So I’m back, if only for a post. I’ll probably ghost for a year or so after, like a fckboi, so don’t start getting any expectations of me. I recently had an epiphany and felt the need to share with our beloved DTT6 readers.

I’m dating someone right now. I know, shocker. And it feels different this time. It’s still early stages but the stress and anxiety I usually feel doesn’t exist this time around because he’s made the whole process quite seamless and transparent. It’s been about a month and even though we haven’t had any formal discussion of where we’re headed, I feel comfortable and not pressured to become anything more with him at this time. Regardless, that’s not what this post is about. It’s actually about what he told me during one of our conversations and since then, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head and needed to put it on metaphorical paper.

We all by this point know what a fckboi is, right? He is essentially a single guy who loves going out and having a good time, but is non-committal and will do whatever it takes to get into your pants. The modern day player – with the benefit of a range of online hookup apps in his arsenal. It’s all about him, his swag, and getting laid. We’ve all met quite a few in our life I’m sure, and will continue to. So here’s the Fuckboi Myth that I recently uncovered.

Contrary to popular belief, a fuckboi is not an identity but more a state of mind.

Let me explain. Take the guy I’m dating right now, let’s call him Mr. Black. In the time I’ve gotten to know him, he’s been super sweet and thoughtful and is very clear in his motives of wanting to date me. Never in a million years could I see him as fckboi – but that’s just based on my experience with him. However, he told me that he’s had his share of one night stands and flings. No surprise there. But what got me is when he then said he can be quite “rude and mean” about his hookups – so much so that there has been moments in the past where he’s slept with a girl without ever kissing her. Kissing to him is what he calls “intimate” and there’s no point if he feels nothing toward that person. That statement completely blindsided me – it’s so crude and yet I only know him as a super affectionate and romantic guy! Again, maybe I’m looking at it from a more traditional perspective but I find it shocking that a guy can have sex with a girl and not even kiss her once at any point. Yes, I agree it’s more intimate but I look at it as part of the process of hooking up –it seems like a natural progression from kissing to having sex, if you so choose. The fact that you can separate one without the other seems barbaric to me.

My point is, it seems like most, if not all guys, are capable of being both a fuckboi and a romantic, or whatever the equivalent opposite term is. Having had conversations with other friends around this topic, it seems that this statement has been seen multiple times over and been witnessed amongst their guy friends as well.

I guess part of me always knew this deep down, especially since I’ve experienced it myself in the diversity of men I’ve met but I’m really letting the idea of it settle in me now.

It’s still unknown where my dating life is headed with Mr. Black but regardless, this is one fact that I will keep in mind in future with anyone else I meet and I think all of you should too! The same guy could be a fckboi to you and Prince Charming to someone else, and vice versa! Essentially, we can hate on fckbois as much as we want, but they treat you that way for a reason. Not because you deserve it but because they don’t see you as more. They are capable of being and doing more but for whatever reason, whether it’s timing in their life, lack of chemistry, or potential neediness coming from our end , you may not get to see that other side of him.

This epiphany doesn’t depress me, and it shouldn’t depress you either. It just makes it so much clearer what the intention of the guy is. If he’s being shady and you don’t really know what’s going on, it’s probably because he’s got his fckboi lense on and from there it’s easy for you to move on until you meet the guy that doesn’t treat you that way. End of story.

Fckgirl out.

 

 

 

To the girl(s) after me:

Carrie – Hey, it’s me. Someone you don’t know and someone you probably will never know.  The only reason why I’m aware we’re connected in this universe is because we were both intimate with someone who once meant a lot to me. I just have so many questions for you though and the unknown has been bothering me.

So you just started seeing him – my ex. I imagine you met on Tinder cause he never goes out or does anything social, including interact with humans.

Continue reading “To the girl(s) after me:”

Mr. Heartbreak Breakup

Carrie – The curse of having a great memory is having to disassociate every moment you’ve ever shared with him. 

The latest memory that sent me into tears was mini donuts. Yes my friends mentioned mini donuts, a great joy in people’s lives and diets, but a bitter sweet reminder of our first date when we lined up in front of the “hot and fresh” carnival donut stand.

Image result for hot and fresh mini donuts stand
yes, this made me cry recently

The saddest part of having a formal relationship is knowing that the transition never really involves after-the-fact friendship. Maybe ex-sex or the occasional run-in. But rare to have true friendship if you didn’t start off with it. Continue reading “Mr. Heartbreak Breakup”

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”

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. 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. 10(B) Unibrow

Carrie – Having held my re-born again virginity for nine months in hopes for the elusive 10 to mean something more, I wasn’t going to let some non-consensual quasi-hookup with Mr. High School Musical take that title. After processing what happened (lots of alcohol + Bumble guys = bad choices), I decided to get on the Tinder train in Ottawa.

I was talking to this Naval Architect and he was checking all the boxes. He loved drinking, had a full head of hair, a daily gym goer with a stable job and I was hooked. Plus he had trendy circular-framed sunglasses in his summer pics near the water and I just envisioned us wearing matching pairs as we lounged on the beach. (Yes, you may roll your eyes at me). We had been talking every day for just short of two weeks before he finally asked me out… talk about the slow game. As fate would have it (or his poor planning), he was leaving town to visit the east coast for a week. He told me he’d message me when he got back.

In the interim, I had matched with this other guy. He messaged me a couple of times so when Naval Architect left, I answered him back but he was definitely a back-burner type of guy. An Ottawa-native with a U of T business degree, his responses were nice but boring. After Naval Architect had come back for a few days (which I deduced from frequent stalking of Tinder “km away” LOL) but failed to message me, I sheepishly accepted the date with the other guy.

I end up meeting him for a patio beer and the sunlight hit his slight unibrow and patch of four white-heads near his nose just so. I was repulsed and named him Mr. Unibrow, vowing to write a post for the blog.

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