As a follow up to last weekend's post about meeting a boy. . .
Boys suck.
He spent the whole weekend flirting with me, saying things like "I'm not having as much fun tonight" and then agreeing when I suggested it was because I wasn't with him. Giving me all sorts of signals in person. And then today I send him a text and say "so, a few weeks ago I met this cute guy, and I'm thinking about asking him to do something. Thoughts?"
His thoughts?
"I started seeing someone."
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
According to Nudity Proactivity
The other day, I established the concept of being "nudity proactive."
Basically, this is something that comes over me whenever I like a guy and deem that it is not entirely platonic or one sided. (Granted, normally even when I've decided this, it turns out later that it was, indeed, one-sided after all). The philosophy of nudity proactivity is this:
Try to look as good as possible naked BEFORE anyone actually has to see you naked.
There is a logic to this more than just general vanity. You see, when someone has been single as long as I have (I've made the numbers public in the past, no need to post them again), it becomes common to sort of. . . get lazy about things. There's a weird myth that girls in relationships let themselves go. I never found that. I always found I made much more of an effort to look good or stay fit when someone was going to be touching me constantly or appraising me without clothing on (did I just make myself sound like chattel? hmmm.) But whenever I'm single and without any real prospects, I sort of stop trying on the small stuff.
For a good example, my regular waxer, the lovely Khia, recently asked my best friend if I was okay, because it had been so long since I'd been in. You know things have gone to pasture when the girl who. . . erm. . . landscapes your garden?. . . in the Brazillian tradition?. . . NOTICES you've been absent.
Moreover, my exercise routines go by the wayside. And often, I'll go a few days without shaving my legs. Perhaps I won't brush my teeth on a Sunday if I'm not working. In other words, I'm sort of like a guy, haha.
Then, all of a sudden, someone will show up and I'll think "damn. . . I wouldn't kick him out of my bed for eating crackers." And then it dawns on you, that if he were to actually end up IN my bed, he'd probably realize that I'd actually been eating crackers there. And chips. And like. . . soup and stuff. I like to eat in my bed, what can I say?
And then it dawns on you further that: I haven't bought new underwear in easily 3 months. I haven't visited the aforementioned Khia in almost 7 months. (there WAS an unfortunate experiment with some Nair. . . and, well. . . never again.) I realize I haven't done a sit-up in like, 6 months, or used my elliptical in about 2. And it's because, to be honest, the actual prospect of having sex hasn't existed for probably 12 months. You let things slide.
So suddenly you meet this guy, and you're like "heck yes, hormone overload and bad decision making: here I come!" And then realize: "Cripes. . . would I actually WANT someone to see me naked right now?"
And with that in mind, nudity proactivity comes into play.
And because of the previous post. . . I'm going to go do some crunches.
Basically, this is something that comes over me whenever I like a guy and deem that it is not entirely platonic or one sided. (Granted, normally even when I've decided this, it turns out later that it was, indeed, one-sided after all). The philosophy of nudity proactivity is this:
Try to look as good as possible naked BEFORE anyone actually has to see you naked.
There is a logic to this more than just general vanity. You see, when someone has been single as long as I have (I've made the numbers public in the past, no need to post them again), it becomes common to sort of. . . get lazy about things. There's a weird myth that girls in relationships let themselves go. I never found that. I always found I made much more of an effort to look good or stay fit when someone was going to be touching me constantly or appraising me without clothing on (did I just make myself sound like chattel? hmmm.) But whenever I'm single and without any real prospects, I sort of stop trying on the small stuff.
For a good example, my regular waxer, the lovely Khia, recently asked my best friend if I was okay, because it had been so long since I'd been in. You know things have gone to pasture when the girl who. . . erm. . . landscapes your garden?. . . in the Brazillian tradition?. . . NOTICES you've been absent.
Moreover, my exercise routines go by the wayside. And often, I'll go a few days without shaving my legs. Perhaps I won't brush my teeth on a Sunday if I'm not working. In other words, I'm sort of like a guy, haha.
Then, all of a sudden, someone will show up and I'll think "damn. . . I wouldn't kick him out of my bed for eating crackers." And then it dawns on you, that if he were to actually end up IN my bed, he'd probably realize that I'd actually been eating crackers there. And chips. And like. . . soup and stuff. I like to eat in my bed, what can I say?
And then it dawns on you further that: I haven't bought new underwear in easily 3 months. I haven't visited the aforementioned Khia in almost 7 months. (there WAS an unfortunate experiment with some Nair. . . and, well. . . never again.) I realize I haven't done a sit-up in like, 6 months, or used my elliptical in about 2. And it's because, to be honest, the actual prospect of having sex hasn't existed for probably 12 months. You let things slide.
So suddenly you meet this guy, and you're like "heck yes, hormone overload and bad decision making: here I come!" And then realize: "Cripes. . . would I actually WANT someone to see me naked right now?"
And with that in mind, nudity proactivity comes into play.
And because of the previous post. . . I'm going to go do some crunches.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
According to Dumb Luck
Went out this weekend, and the impossible happened.
I met a guy. A potentially actually decent, honestly adorable, guy.
Go figure.
I met a guy. A potentially actually decent, honestly adorable, guy.
Go figure.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
According to 91km
I forewarned everyone that occasionally a "serious" entry would poke itself in here, and I believe this may be an example of one of those.
I sort of brushed on a concept herein while introducing my Cosmo entry, and that is the idea that women seem to feel the need to create a version of themselves that caters to the wishes and desires of their "ideal" man. Which of course is complete horseshit. Whichever man/woman/individual is the right person for you to be with, that person will love you (in the immortal words of Mark Darcy): "just as you are."
I firmly believe that the only things you really need to change when you finally meet "the one" are that suddenly you will have to share your bed ALL THE TIME, and that perhaps you will have to sit around watching UFC from time to time because he or she puts up with your fanatical need to watch True Blood.
Any other changes cannot possibly be for the better. You should never have to pretend you like hockey if you don't (I happen to love hockey, but sports like professional soccer, wrestling, televised golf, etc are totally beyond me); you should be able to eat what you want in front of someone; wear the clothes you like; admit that you think Kate Hudson isn't really all that great an actress, but you totally saw How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days in the theatre. Being who you are is a good thing. You should only ever change something because it's a change you want for yourself.
In the same breath, you should NEVER insist your partner change something about their personality because it bothers you. Your boyfriend likes mushroom pizza? Don't try to make him love your pineapple/feta. Order two pizzas. Your boyfriend absolutely loves his grubby high school football shirt? Don't throw it out because it's disgusting. Accept it, and he will accept that you own 10 pairs of flats but only ever wear one.
It is with this in mind, I come to my point. Last weekend I completed, over 2 days, a 91km bike ride. That is both an intense and epic number to wrap my head around. I sadly, did not complete the full return trip, but nevertheless, the experience of getting as far as I did was, not to sound cheesy, profound. I mentioned to my friend Kristen as we were arriving to check in that I have a mental list of things I want to accomplish. I call it my "I Want to Be The Kind of Girl" list. In the case of last weekend, I wanted to be the kind of girl who could bike 81km in support of finding a cure for MS. I did it. A list like that is a list of things you want to change or accomplish in order to be the best version of yourself. For no one else but you.
So, with no further ado, here is my list. Everything on it has nothing to do with impressing boys, catching boys, wooing boys, or anything other than being the person I strive to be. Once upon a time it was my "Things that Will Make Me an Amazing Wife" list. That list was very different indeed.
I Want to Be the Kind of Girl Who. . .
- Can read Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky in the original Russian
- Has a Masters Degree
- Runs a Half Marathon
- Has a New York Times Bestseller
- Cooks a fancy (or not fancy) dinner, while listening to Opera
- Reads the Sunday Times
- Speaks 6 Languages
- Has Visited Every Continent
- Owns a Horse (yes, I am 26 and I still want a pony)
- Knows how to use a Bow & Arrow (archery is cool)
- Makes a Perfect Pie
- Makes it to Everest base camp (I don't want to climb the mountain itself, thanks)
- Looks just as good in lingerie as I do in camp gear
- Goes camping once a year
- Can fix a Car Engine
- Knows how to Salsa, Tango and Swing
- Swims with Dolphins
- Is an Award Winning Photographer
It's an ongoing list, and I know there's more to it. But it's the kind of list everyone should have. It's the list I'll be thinking of next year, when I bike the whole 162km. It's the kind of list I want on my mind instead of "what should I weigh to impress him? What profession isn't threatening to his ego? When should I disagree with his opinions?"
The right guy for me is the guy who loves the girl on that list. And the girl who made the list. And every girl in between.
I sort of brushed on a concept herein while introducing my Cosmo entry, and that is the idea that women seem to feel the need to create a version of themselves that caters to the wishes and desires of their "ideal" man. Which of course is complete horseshit. Whichever man/woman/individual is the right person for you to be with, that person will love you (in the immortal words of Mark Darcy): "just as you are."
I firmly believe that the only things you really need to change when you finally meet "the one" are that suddenly you will have to share your bed ALL THE TIME, and that perhaps you will have to sit around watching UFC from time to time because he or she puts up with your fanatical need to watch True Blood.
Any other changes cannot possibly be for the better. You should never have to pretend you like hockey if you don't (I happen to love hockey, but sports like professional soccer, wrestling, televised golf, etc are totally beyond me); you should be able to eat what you want in front of someone; wear the clothes you like; admit that you think Kate Hudson isn't really all that great an actress, but you totally saw How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days in the theatre. Being who you are is a good thing. You should only ever change something because it's a change you want for yourself.
In the same breath, you should NEVER insist your partner change something about their personality because it bothers you. Your boyfriend likes mushroom pizza? Don't try to make him love your pineapple/feta. Order two pizzas. Your boyfriend absolutely loves his grubby high school football shirt? Don't throw it out because it's disgusting. Accept it, and he will accept that you own 10 pairs of flats but only ever wear one.
It is with this in mind, I come to my point. Last weekend I completed, over 2 days, a 91km bike ride. That is both an intense and epic number to wrap my head around. I sadly, did not complete the full return trip, but nevertheless, the experience of getting as far as I did was, not to sound cheesy, profound. I mentioned to my friend Kristen as we were arriving to check in that I have a mental list of things I want to accomplish. I call it my "I Want to Be The Kind of Girl" list. In the case of last weekend, I wanted to be the kind of girl who could bike 81km in support of finding a cure for MS. I did it. A list like that is a list of things you want to change or accomplish in order to be the best version of yourself. For no one else but you.
So, with no further ado, here is my list. Everything on it has nothing to do with impressing boys, catching boys, wooing boys, or anything other than being the person I strive to be. Once upon a time it was my "Things that Will Make Me an Amazing Wife" list. That list was very different indeed.
I Want to Be the Kind of Girl Who. . .
- Can read Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky in the original Russian
- Has a Masters Degree
- Runs a Half Marathon
- Has a New York Times Bestseller
- Cooks a fancy (or not fancy) dinner, while listening to Opera
- Reads the Sunday Times
- Speaks 6 Languages
- Has Visited Every Continent
- Owns a Horse (yes, I am 26 and I still want a pony)
- Knows how to use a Bow & Arrow (archery is cool)
- Makes a Perfect Pie
- Makes it to Everest base camp (I don't want to climb the mountain itself, thanks)
- Looks just as good in lingerie as I do in camp gear
- Goes camping once a year
- Can fix a Car Engine
- Knows how to Salsa, Tango and Swing
- Swims with Dolphins
- Is an Award Winning Photographer
It's an ongoing list, and I know there's more to it. But it's the kind of list everyone should have. It's the list I'll be thinking of next year, when I bike the whole 162km. It's the kind of list I want on my mind instead of "what should I weigh to impress him? What profession isn't threatening to his ego? When should I disagree with his opinions?"
The right guy for me is the guy who loves the girl on that list. And the girl who made the list. And every girl in between.
According to My Inability to Flirt with the Irish
Cute guy comes into work holding a familiar looking form and asks my coworker if we do passports. She asks if it's Canadian, and he says no, and before he can explain I say:
"Oh, that's for an Irish passport, I know that sheet."
"Yea," he says, "it is."
"We actually have the settings for that saved. Awhile back I did them for these two super cute Irish kids. Not that you're not cute. But they were WAY cuter."
"Oh, that's for an Irish passport, I know that sheet."
"Yea," he says, "it is."
"We actually have the settings for that saved. Awhile back I did them for these two super cute Irish kids. Not that you're not cute. But they were WAY cuter."
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