What’s Your Number?

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A couple of weeks ago my roommate and I were involved in our favourite Sunday ritual: rom-coms, Uber Eats and vegetating on the couch. We’ve passed many a weekend watching Cameron Diaz in “The Sweetest Thing”, Cameron Diaz in “The Holiday”, Cameron Diaz in “The Other Woman”…you get the idea, she plays ‘hard-ass looking for love’ quite well. Anyway, on this particular Sunday we flipped on “What’s Your Number”, a silly story about Anna Farris’ character tracking down her 20 ex-ual partners (Trademark: Samantha Jones) to see if any of them are worth a second shot. Why, you ask? Well, thanks to trashy magazines designed to make women feel miserable, her character learns that the average number of partners a woman has in her lifetime is 8, and anyone over 20 is deemed “unmarriable”- a category that she finds herself in right before her younger sister’s wedding….yikes on bikes.

Now, my roomie and I are usually quite talkative during our slothy Sundays, constantly interjecting to discuss drama from the previous night or to comment on the latest pic of avo toast on Instagram….but as we watched a VERY skinny Anna flirt with a VERY gorgeous Chris Evans, we were both oddly quiet. About half an hour into the movie I looked at her and awkwardly said: “Doesn’t 8 feel kind of low?” To my relief she immediately agreed, having been wondering the exact same thing.

This got us thinking…is 8 really the average? It felt kind of low to us but honestly, we’ve been known to be a wild pair so maybe we were the outliers? Thus, we set out on a noble quest for the sake of all womankind: conduct an experiment to determine what today’s average truly is (amongst our friends at least).

So, once again I don my scientist lab coat and present to you, The Thirsty Thesis: A study investigating the response pattern of millennial women when questioned on their sexual history. 

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Thesis: The average number of sexual partners a woman has in her life is greater that 8, contrary to that reported in “What’s Your Number”.

Method: We sourced voluntary responses from 19 of our friends to determine statistically significant results (Funny, had we gotten one more participant our list would’ve been deemed unmarriable…).

Findings:

  1. The mean was 20, however, the median and mode were both 14. For those of you forgetting statistics, the mean is the average, median is the middle number  and the mode is the most frequently reported number.
    • These data points show that we had a high degree of variability in our results, with a couple numbers largely skewing the data. Removing the bottom and top 2 outliers to adjust for this variance (I told you I’m a scientist), the more accurate average amongst us was 15 sexual partners. 
  2. If the girl’s unsure, don’t listen to her. EVERY TIME someone was unsure of her number and reported two potential responses, she’d end up realizing the higher number was true when pushed to confirm.
    • In my expert opinion, this highlights a subconscious pressure amongst women to keep their number low, as no one actively admitted to misrepresenting themselves for any reason other than failure to recall.
  3. Three participants asked for clarification on what actually counted, providing  further support for the hypothesis that women will try to lower their number wherever possible.
  4. The difference between the highest and lowest number reported was 78 people.
    • For those of you gasping, don’t…this was a significant outlier and honestly…to each their own. See ‘Discussion’ below for further details on “slut-shaming”.

Limitations:

  1. When the numbers seemed too low, I polled more sexually promiscuous friends of mine…sue me, I was 3rd highest on the list until 90% of the polling was complete.
  2. This study relied on self-report, which given on the sensitive subject matter may not be an accurate reflection of the proper numerical response..

Discussion:

If you’re a sexually active woman in 2018, the topic of your number is definitely something you’ve thought about at least once (in the last week). Post after post on DTT6 highlights our sexual exploits, with some referring to the count explicitly (Sorry Carrie, there’s no such thing as a 10 a & 10 b 😉 ) and others shying away from posting about every tantalizing tale (myself being one of the biggest perpetrators here). Come to think of it, I’ve actually even added a notch to my metaphorical bedpost since conducting this study…

Nonetheless, whether you report a 2 or a 20, there seems to be a connotation attached to the number of partners you have as somehow reflecting of the kind of person that you are. In my mind, this is completely absurd and totally problematic. The “2”, who may be cautious with her heart or just had multiple long term relationships, is no better or no worse than the “20”, who may be focused on her career or just hasn’t met the right guy to settle down with. When you’re perpetually single and want to have a lot of sex you end up sleeping with a lot of people, it’s just the reality of the situation.

And honestly, the very idea that a woman is somehow deemed “unmarriable” because she surpassed an arbitrary number picked to be “normal” is both archaic and downright offensive. The tagline for this very movie perfectly points out the root of the problem: Women subtract, men add. This common-held conception posits that men can have as many partners as they want and this is acceptable, but women should remain pure for their husbands. Though pre-dating the 1950’s, this ideal really took off when Hugh Hefner (RIP) brought to life the modern ‘Bachelor’ with the introduction of Playboy. Keep in mind, this was a marketing construction, built to sell magazines and a lifestyle to sad consumers who needed an outlet from their painfully repressed suburban lives.

Sidenote: If you don’t know the history behind Playboy, Penthouse & Bachelor pads, you totally should read on up…it’s beyond fascinating and such an interesting outcome from that time period. I’d suggest “The answer to suburbia: Playboy’s urban lifestyle.” Fraterrigo, Elizabeth. (2008). Journal of Urban History 34 (5): 747-774. It’s accessible online AND YES THAT IS A PROPER MLA CITATION THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

But I digress…Despite Hef’s genius marketing strategy, there really shouldn’t be differences in the way that men and women are perceived for the sexual choices that they make. I’m not naive to think that we can fully disrupt these norms, but we all biologically have hormones, so I refuse to support an antiquated ideal that forced women to wear CHASTITY BELTS to contain their sexual urges. Women want it just as men do and this is not blasphemous by any means.

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Damn – Between the Playboy and chastity belts references, this may be the most I’ve ever used my Communication Studies major in real life.

I am not saying that there isn’t a point in time where being sexually frivolous can be unfair to your partner and to yourself, especially if you aren’t taking necessary precautions. However, I truly believe that as long as you are being safe, respectful and doing your thing for the right reasons, you should feel empowered to sow your seeds in whatever field you’d like (Farming euphemism for the win!).  To me this means owning your choices and making them because you want to, not because they may perceived one way or another by someone else.

End of the day I still enjoyed parts of this movie – particularly Chris Pratt as Disgusting Donald and Andy Samberg as the sexually-perverse puppeteer – but I CANNOT STAND the ending message. Anna ends up with Chris Evans’ character, finally accepting that she can cross 20 partners and still get married, only to find out that she didn’t actually sleep with one of the guys and Evans is her 20th partner, putting her in the marriage range….wow, progressive AF you guys. One small step for feminism, followed by one subsequent face-plant into gender normativity.

Conclusion:

Forget everything this study has taught you. While it was fun to do and actually quite informative, the lesson here that is way more important than knowing how you compare to an average of your peers. It’s about realizing that the number of partners you have does not determine your self-worth. It is the choices you make that define who you are. Now that’s a tagline I can get behind.

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Top 10 Tips to Survive Dating in 2018

In my free time, I’ve become a dating tip connoisseur. In fact, it’s almost a hobby at this point. I’ve been soaking up everything I can from Youtube videos, dating coaches and podcasts to learn everything I can to successfully date in the social media/technological age that we’re in. I think it’s a fascinating world and there’s so much content to learn from. In conversation with Sam the other day, she suggested I pull together a shortlist of tips that I’ve found effective so far in my life. Although there are specific do’s and dont’s from what I’ve listed, it’s not so much about the exact wording or protocol about doing things. Instead, it’s more about your mental state and approach to conducting yourself to date in a positive, healthy and self-respectful way.

So here goes, in no particular order, what I’ve found works best for me:

  1. Don’t contact him after the first date. Unless you forgot something or he said to text you when you got home safely, let him make the move. Having him text first when he’s ready will show an indication of his interest level. Too often I’ve gone on dates and focused on gauging MY attraction to them when I realize that’s only half the battle.
  2. Let him take the initiative to make plans. I want a guy that takes initiative and isn’t afraid to setup the plan. If he puts the ball back in your court, just say you’re up for anything and to surprise you. Having him put the effort in is also an indication of his interest level.
  3. Keep the texts short and sweet. It doesn’t need to come across rude, keep it flirty but get to the point. The purpose of texting should be make plans, not to get to know each other via message. As long as you’ve found out the basics about him and there’s somewhat of a common interest, everything about him can be learned on the actual date.
  4. If you’re unsure about the guy, make it a coffee date. It’s short, quicker and not as expensive as dinner or drinks. And if you both find out you like each other, it’s easy to transition into a drinks date after.
  5. Take the time to evaluate your hard yes’s and maybe’s. You don’t need a must have list of 20 physical qualities and characteristics – it’s not realistic, but focus more on the values and morals that you’d want in a person. At the same time keep an open mind on the date, he may surprise you and you may discover certain things you didn’t realize you’d be attracted to.
  6. Do not ever feel like you owe a guy anything after a date, no matter how much he’s spent on you. You are in control of your own body.
  7. If you can and are able, date multiple people casually at the same time. Trust me, I haven’t figure out how to successfully do it yet myself but I am told it is the healthiest approach to dating. By not focusing all your energy (and therefore desperation) on one guy, you can feel more at ease knowing that you have options and can take your time when evaluating for a good partner before you get into anything serious.
  8. If he cancels or comes across flakey, give him the benefit of the doubt and allow him to reschedule. If he doesn’t, move on. You’re not a top priority in his mind and you shouldn’t waste your time on someone who sees you as an afterthought.
  9. Self-reflect on your dating goals. What are you looking for? Are your actions and behavior aligning with your goals? Alter as necessary. There have been times where I say I’m looking for a relationship, but in truth, my body seems to yearn for something more casual. Coming to that realization was eye-opening for me and allowed me to tailor my dating style based on what I was looking for at the time.
  10. Above all, respect yourself and those around you. You deserve to have someone treat you well, and you should treat them in kind. If it’s not the right fit, don’t force it just because you’re lonely, it may damage you more in the long run.

That was just a few of the things I’ve learned over the years. It might not be to everyone’s taste but I think there is a fundamental vein of truth that runs throughout them. Let me know your thoughts or if you have any tips to share with our readers as well.

Señor San Fran

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If you’ve been reading my posts lately you’d know that I was in San Francisco last week and definitely not behaving myself, which makes for the best blog content (if I do say so myself). And if you’ve been reading along, you’d know that I’d been on a pub crawl the night before, meeting tons of new people all with the same thing on their mind: hooking up.

At bar two on the pub crawl, I met Señor San Fran, a tall, dark and handsome glass of water from Mexico (lol, yes I’m a huge tool) who sang me Happy Birthday and bought endless rounds of drinks. I’d never hooked up with a Latin guy before, but was definitely interested in getting chipotlaid and liked his vibe. We exchanged numbers and apparently he’d tried to message me that night, but a lack of service on my end had different plans. The next day I saw an undelivered text to an unknown number in my phone and messaged it via WhatsApp like the 21st century thirst trap I am.

Well, I’m glad I did because on my last night in San Fran I hit the bars HARD with Señor SF, Charlotte, and a couple friends we’d made along the way. After a long night of beer olympics, a Dancehall club and a house party in the middle of nowhere, we ended up together on a bench outside my dorm . The time was 3 in the morning and I had to leave for the airport at 5 am, but despite being so tired that I couldn’t formulate sentences I was determined to get a goodbye kiss.

Eventually he leans in and plants one on my cheek of all places…My facial expression, which must’ve read something like “Dafaq”, prompted him to say “That was super lame wasn’t it”. I nod and he reaches under my chin and pulls me in for a real freaking kiss. I mean, DAMN. Fireworks people.

From there things went from 0 – 100 real quick. He asks if I want to go to the shower down the hall (the same shower from the night before I might add…for SHAME Samantha) and I say “yes” unsure how to tell him that I have already fornicated in that room and would prefer to desecrate a new location. Again, hooking up in hostels is HARD.

Compared to the night before, which was rushed and intense, this was soft and slow…but equally, if not more, awesome. You know what they say about Latin lovers amirite? In fact, I didn’t even realize how hot it really was until some guy yelled at us to shut up…I’ve never really been one for discretion….Sarrrrry.

After getting dressed and saying our goodbyes I went back to my dorm to grab Charlotte and our suitcases…it was time to go to the airport.

I may not have gotten much sleep that night but it was well worth it, and texting him back and forth since then hasn’t been half bad either. I guess I took the phrase “ending with a bang” to a whole new level this trip and couldn’t have asked for a better end to an already incredible vacation. Damn, between Monsieur Formidable last year and now UK Bae/Señor SF, I’m clearly spending my birthdays travelling the world more than just geographically, if you now what I mean 😉

Mr. UK Bae

I’ve been told that the story of this night seems so ridiculous that it is like something out of a movie. As such, like most movies this post comes with a rating:

R – the following blog post is rated R for Relationship. If you are in a relationship, proceed reading with caution and hold all judgement for the comment section below.

Mr. UK Bae, a film by Samantha Jones.

The scene is downtown San Francisco. Two girls (Samantha and Charlotte) are on vacation and staying in a dorm at a hostel. A couple from London, Mr. UK Bae and his girlfriend of a year “Andie” are in the dorm as well. Andie looooves UKB, but he’s a little more meh about her.

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That night, all 4 attend the hostel pub crawl along with 50 of their new best friends. The night starts off as innocuous as any and at the second stop of the night everyone finds out it’s Samantha’s birthday. From there the drinks start flowing and soon enough she is very drunk….the following is her account of the rest of that night….

My 24th birthday was one of the best of my life. I was on vacation in San Francisco, had gotten my first tattoo earlier that day, and was having the time of my life with not a care in the world. The only thing getting me down was “Ken”, a guy from my hostel who could not take a hint and was hanging off my neck most of the night. By the third bar I was officially over this stage-75 clinger and asked UK Bae for help in getting away from him. He grabbed my hand and led to the dance floor out of the clutches of Klinger Ken. There, amongst the crowd of gyrating bodies, we stood perfectly still,  holding hands and not breaking eye contact. I don’t know what it was about this guy but from the moment we met I was attracted to his vibe. Now, standing there on the packed dance floor I was definitely feeling a slightly different vibe, so dropped his hand and walked away to grab another drink.

Some time (and many drinks) later I stumbled outside for some much needed fresh air. I stood there catching my breath when UK Bae walks around the corner laughing at me standing there doubled over, trying not hurl.

I honestly don’t know who made the first move but the next thing I know he’s pressed me up against a wall and we’re engaged in what I can only describe as the hottest make out session of my whole damn life. I know it was morally wrong, this is why I put the rating at the beginning of the post, but something about the “badness” of the situation made the whole thing 10000% hotter and I was totally caught up in the heat of the moment.

We reluctantly separate and go back to the bar to avoid suspicion, where Charlotte and Andie are looking for us to hit the next bar on the list. Andie was NOT happy that she’d been left alone and broke down begging him never to leave her again. He told her he’d been helping me since I was sick (semi-true) and Charlotte accepted this at face value, I have no idea what Andie must’ve been thinking.

We acted causal the rest of the night and ended up heading back to our dorm in a pack including him and I, Andie, Charlotte and the guy she picked up for the night, and a blonde AF, Frodo-looking sir who really wanted to walk me home. Friggen squad goals. I suppose a nicer person would’ve felt guilty about the situation but maybe I’m not all that nice a person…Help me out here people, was I wrong to break “Girl Code” or is the onus on him to not make a fool of his girlfriend? The cavalier way in which he so easily crossed that line REALLY makes me suspect I am not the first person to be his “Other Woman”…I’m not justifying my actions…but maybe I am.

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Back in our shared dorm, I’m on the top-bunk when I get a very racy text from the bed across from mine. It was UK Bae. In what felt like a scene from a really bad teen movie we begin texting back and forth what we want to do to the other while Andie and Charlotte lie sleeping below us. The whole thing was so naughty that the tension was almost too much to take. We planned to wait till everyone was asleep to make our move and I eventually fell asleep too.

A few strong taps wake me up and and soon I’m on my way to meet him in the shower room down the hall. Why the shower room you may ask? Well, hooking up in hostels is HARD, especially when the person you’re hooking up with is travelling with a significant other. I don’t think she was too interested in having a threesome, so we needed to make alternative plans.

Anyway, after all that build up we immediately got it on in what was one of the sexiest experiences I’ve had in a long time. I’m a girl who likes a little roughness and he seemed to know just what I wanted. The whole thing didn’t last more than 15 minutes, but hey, after about 5 hours of foreplay can you really blame the guy?

We head back to our respective beds and I wake up the next morning still turned on from the events of the night before. Hell, I’m even getting a little turned on thinking about it as I write this. He had some sort of crazy sexual hold over me where all logic and morality flew out the window, replacing all my thoughts with the image of us fooling around in that alley outside the bar.

Now, I know what I did wrong. Andie is a very nice girl and had any guy done that to a friend of mine I’d castrate him. But the circumstances and distance between their lives and mine made the whole thing feel surreal, and boy did it feel good to be bad. By the time Charlotte and I returned to our hostel the next night they’d checked out (this was planned and not a consequence of our actions) so whether or not he tells her is none of my concern. All I can say is Happy Birthday to me, I’m one year older, wiser and a little sluttier too 😛

Dating Woes? You DESPERATELY Need to Read This Post

What’s the most vile word in the English language when it comes to matters of the heart?  I’ll give you a hint: Seth Cohen noticed it, Chandler Bing embodied it, and if you’re a millennial in today’s dating scene, you probably smell of it.

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Did you guess? If you did, well done! You’ve correctly identified the number one most avoided noun in the history of verbiage. Desperation in any form is bad enough as it is…no one says they’re jumping for joy desperation or choose to make the desperate choice first, but when it comes to dating this effect is 100 times worse.

Recently I heard an interesting podcast about the dominant hookup culture that rules the day (I swear my life doesn’t fully revolve around dating – just mostly). Sociologist Lisa Wade explained how a woman would rather be called a slut than be called desperate, because a slut may have slept with a bunch of guys but the desperate girl…well….at least when you’re a slut someone wants you.

*PAUSE TO TAKE IN THE FKD UP-NESS OF THAT SITUATION*

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What’s so sad is that I can’t even say that this is something I don’t identify with. I have definitely been in the unfortunate situation (more than once) where I did something with someone that I wasn’t fully comfortable with just to feel wanted, to feel like I fit in, or that I’m just like everyone else. Well, I’m here to tell you that the sad truth is that sleeping around doesn’t make you like everyone else. In fact, feeling desperate and alone probably brings you closer to feeling like the rest of us than getting laid does.

According to this article in NOW Magazine, which went absolutely VIRAL in Toronto, us Millenials are significantly less sexually active than our Gen X predecessors. People claim to be too busy for something meaningful and overwhelmed by all the option, and it’s really no wonder why. We work longer hours, spend more time with friends than family and let’s face it, technology is complicating everything. At the tips of our fingers are option after option making people feel dispensable, so should we really be surprised when they treat us like we are?

It’s unsurprising that if you’re constantly talking about sex but not having it that you’d wind up feeling a little desperado, and there is absolutely no shortage to the sexual imagery that exists in every facet of our culture. Even as I write this I’m surrounded by content hell-bent on turning me into an attention-seeking single. The desperate divas from The Bachelor Women Tell All are whining on TV, I’m listening to James Arthur’s “You’re Nobody till Somebody Loves You” and that article I mentioned earlier? The ad at the end was actually promoting a dating event for foodies!! ‘Foody call’…very subtle LOBLAWS.

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Realistically, sex when you’re dating falls into two main categories: a) completely meaningless or b) meaning everything. I swear, now more than ever, the only time you DON’T have sex with someone is when you actually like them. As if the very intimate act in and of itself is proof that you don’t care about the person you’re sleeping with. WHAT KIND OF TWISTED LOGIC IS THAT? Most shocking of all, this mentality is something we women actually STRIVE for. We want to appear aloof, detached and totally okay with it…the less you care the better off you are. HAH. That sounds healthy…

There really is no win for women because men want it both ways: they want a sexually deviant, hot woman who knows what she’s doing in the bedroom until they don’t. For a woman to be deemed acceptable of “wife-ing up” she should still be seen as “wholesome and respectful”, which apparently doesn’t mean being overtly sexual or too comfortable in the bedroom. See the problem? Not only do men have ALL the power in relationships, but they condemn us for embodying the very ideals that they promote. Most of the time we end up feeling cheap and desperate because the only thing harder than getting someone interested in you is keeping that interest for more than 10 seconds.

I had a very illuminating experience last weekend. I approached a guy at the bar and we had a great convo for quite a while. My friend “Julie” ended up cock-blocking me so when he asked me for my number later that night I was stoked. Well, without my knowledge, another friend of mine, “Sara”, berated her for being the world’s worst-wingwoman and told Julie to go fix the situation. Julie claims he asked her where I was but I have my doubts. The result? Me, left wondering if he asked for my number because he liked me or because someone told him to…Worst of all – how PATHETIC I feel for even explaining this to whomever reads this blog. Why? Because this shouldn’t be a big deal at all, but what started out as a nice interaction/little ego-boost ended up rocking my self-esteem.  When I messaged him later that night and got no reply I immediately felt like I was the poor girl who needed her friends to get someone to talk to her, even though I’m not. And that is not a good feeling.

As women we are often too hard on ourselves. We overthink our interactions with men and then get mad at ourselves for overthinking them – all because we don’t want to appear, you guessed it, DESPERATE. Who knows, maybe with time I’ll stop caring so much about looking some type of way. If a guy doesn’t like me for who I am then that’s on him not me. I’ll forget my fears and feel confident enough to say: “Hey, you’re great and we should hang out”.

Lol, Just kidding…I’m not that desperate.

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Mr. Grilled Cheese

Carrie – I am no longer a young professional living in the 6ix. As much as I loved shitting around in what my father termed my “sabbatical” year in a great city, I’ve decided to move to a sleepier town. I’ve immerse myself back into an academic environment filled with intelligent, like-minded individuals, and a ton of… general douchebags. Welcome to the world of law school.

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Since I began two months ago, I have projectile vomited on a bus in front of my friends, peed behind a school building on campus, fallen on my face on a boat cruise, woken up with a leg full of bruises, developed viral conjunctivitis (aka a case of the pink eye), gotten a cold twice, and just generally killed it at life it seems. Maybe it’s the fierce female squad I’ve made (our group chat is the “Pro Boners”) and their bad influence on me but realistically, it’s probably just me.

One Saturday, after 12 hours in the library, my friend and I took one break to stop for linner at around 3. With that having been my only meal of the day, my mind being exhausted, and my overall track record of making bad life choices, I am fucked by 8:30 p.m. when we head over to this bro’s house for a pre.

I show up and I am the most ‘lit-lit’ out of all of us. I was hoping one of my crushes would be there – he’s a year younger but we went to the same alma mater, he’s well-spoken, tall, with these cerulean eyes that are alarmingly entrancing. He had been messaging me a couple of weeks earlier, even sending me heart emojis that the Pro Boners collectively freaked out over, so I had this pent up sexual tension I was hoping to explore with Mr. Heart Emoji.

Naturally, I sleep with his best friend.

Continue reading “Mr. Grilled Cheese”

Mr. Slide Into My DMs

Carrie – For the first time in a really long time, when I stepped out of the shower that morning, an overwhelming sensation of gratitude washed over me. Perhaps I had been in a particularly good mood having finished my summer courses and finally enjoying what was left of my summer. Maybe it was the reminiscent effect of some weed I’d had the night before. Whatever the case, I was appreciative of the simple things: the sweet aroma of my shampoo, the soft towel grazing against freshly cleaned skin, and the sensation of my plush memory-foam bath mat under my foot as I gingerly step out of the shower.

Then in some weird sort of memory association, I remembered the history of said bath-mat. It wasn’t particularly sentimental, being a cheap Costco purchase two years ago. However, I recall enthusiastically snapping videos of the memory foam in action to Mr. Puppy Love who often experienced my obsession with all-things-fuzzy. The mat has also gotten me through darker moments: supporting me (and friends) as we hung around the toilet the morning after a night of binge drinking and comforting me when I pathetically cried after Mr. Mindfuckboy left my house that fateful winter night.

If you haven’t read up on my saga with Mr. Mindfuckboy, I’ll spare you your life and give you the Sparks notes here: this guy’s favourite movie is The Notebook. If that wasn’t indication enough (as I was too infatuated to see at the time), it is exactly the type of tortured romance he’s looking for in his life. He wanted me to be his Allie, the girl he couldn’t be with right away, but she was his soul mate and they’d eventually end up together when the time was ‘right’. Too bad the ‘right’ time in the movie was also the most-complicated scenario/worst-timing right when she was happy and about to get married. But that was the love he wanted. Mr. Mindfuckboy made everything fifteen times more complicated than it should have been. When I gave him the opportunity to be with me, he chose to cower, ignoring my phone calls but writing me a fucking poem about how I’m better off without him. Later that evening, I sent him a ‘break-up’ text telling him to never contact me again and delete me from his life.

So lo and behold my dismay when, I kid you not, TWELVE MONTHS LATER (that’s a whole year later ladies and gents) I get hit up with a follow on Instagram from Mr. Mindfuckboy, who I will now term Mr. (Slide Into My) DM.

Continue reading “Mr. Slide Into My DMs”

Mr. Somebody That I Used To Know

Carrie – Okay Mr. Somebody might not be the story you’re expecting. It definitely wasn’t what I was expecting when I boarded the subway at Finch Station on a Thursday morning at the crack of dawn. I had been staying uptown at my parents’ house, the area where I had done (most of) my growing up. Disoriented from taking the southbound train to work, I got in on one of the cars in the middle. And out of all the ways I changed my normal routine that morning; it was either fate or chance that led me to stand in the same car right across from Mr. Somebody.

So who is Mr. Somebody That I Used To Know? Well, he is the older brother of my ex, aka the only boyfriend I’ve ever had, aka Mr. High-School-Sweetheart Puppy Love. Mr. Somebody was the quiet eldest brother of three, equally as mild-mannered as my ex, but definitely the most difficult to get a reaction out of compared to the rest of the family. Going from playing board games with him once a week to deleting him off Facebook when I found out my ex was sleeping with someone else, it surely was an odd feeling to see him again and I wasn’t sure how the interaction was gonna go.

Continue reading “Mr. Somebody That I Used To Know”

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”

The Versatile Blogger Award

Last week we were nominated by Hookup Culture for the Versatile Blogger Award! Thank you so much for the nomination! We love your blog and are so glad you like ours too 🙂 (Rules for nominees at the bottom of the page)

7 Facts about us:

  1. Our origin story: Samantha, Stanford and Carrie went to high school together, Stanford and Carrie also went to university together while Samantha and Charlotte were roommates at university for four years. Miranda and Samantha met at work and started DTT6 to replace the post-shenaniganry coffee updates taking place all too frequently.
  2. Charlotte has a photographic memory….when it comes to memorizing shopping malls and online inventories.
  3. Samantha can name the winner of every season of survivor (and is very proud of this fact)
  4. Miranda‘s sneezes are so loudly she could both wake the dead and scare the living half to death.
  5. Carrie has never had the chicken pox so don’t expect any dates with her to be anywhere near a coop or a farm.
  6. Stanford can say the entire alphabet backwards.
  7. The five of us have never been in the same room all at the same time.

We are nominated the following awesome blogs that we love and know you will too.

Cat in the Cactus

50(+) First Dates

Suzie the Single Dating Diva

Ordinary Adventures

Fatty McCupcakes

What are you still doing here? Go check them out!

Rules

  1. Thank the person that nominated you and include a link to their blog.
  2. Nominate at least 15 bloggers of your choice. When considering a fellow blogger for the Versatile Blogger Award, keep in mind the quality of their writing, the uniqueness of their subject matter and the level of love displayed on the virtual page.
  3. Link your nominees and let them know about their nomination.
  4. Share seven facts about yourself.