Online dating? Yes please!

Ignoring my low impulse control, rash decision making skills and inability to think things through, I think most will agree that a good looking man with a great sense of humor is my greatest weakness. Unemployed and live with your parents and 12 DUI convictions? All can be forgiven if they laugh at my dead baby jokes. (kidding, dead baby jokes are SO 2005)

Which brings me to online dating.

Oh my word, have I been back and forth on this one. Being 35 and now officially at my sexual peak, as well as my fabulosity peak I have a pretty hard time resisting it. I have finally smartened up (if I were to ignore the fact that this is really not the best time for dating) and hidden my profile which now puts the onus totally on me.

You see, if you aren't a hump back with dreadful acne and a g tube AND you have a vagina you tend to be rather overwhelmed with emails from the most pathetically self deprecating to the tragically unaware. I specifically state NO COWBOY HATS yet received endless emails from boys wearing them....without a hint of irony.

I would like to share an email I once received from a gentleman whose physical hideousness not only gave me nightmares but might lead to future female sexual dysfunction.

This is an actual cut and paste

"y u womn not want me. make me sad cause i like and like for long times people say my spegeti sause is beater then the store's"

I reviewed this at length and did something I haven't done in years. I met him at a parking lot and he liked and liked me for hours. I keed, I keed....what I DID do was re write his email and returned it to him for review. Again, an actual cut in paste.

"Hi there. Just read (well, attempted to read) your email as well as your entire profile. Please forgive me as I am uncertain if perhaps English is your second language. If this is the case there are several places around town where you can receive instruction. I see from your profile that you are unemployed due to "govenmeant suxs y I dont vote". I assure you, these places can help you out in that area as well.

Now, I *think* this is what you wanted to email me.

"Why don't women want me? It makes me sad because I can lick and lick for a long time. People say that my spaghetti sauce is better than the stores!"........Is this correct? ok. So here is the thing. Woman don't want you because there is nothing more revolting than getting an email like this. I am not certain of your relationship history but I feel pretty confident when I say that women these days don't dig it. Also, put on a shirt for chrissakes. If you would like some help with your profile let me know and I'll be happy to help."

And finally, his response.

"chock on a log on my nasty shit bich"

Well, that was almost a sentence!

These are a few of my favourite things

I have been saving a few of my favourite texts I have received over the past few months. I will omit names to protect the guilty.

"I'm eating ribs in my underwear"

"Stop thinking with your pussy. You're worse than a man"

"I don't know about you but I think we need to bring back freak shows. There seem to be an awful lot of albinos in Newmarket"

"You have won the life lottery!"


"Dating sites should be for people who want to date. What is this, Fuck Me University?"

"Sorry Mom, but you have to tell me why you are forcing me to take worm medication or else I just won't do it"

"Cock piercings are always a deal breaker."

"Ummm we think u are one of our veeeery favorie ppl om this earth. And you will get through this shit patch. And when u do you will be stronger.... Also DO NOT LISTEN TO ANY ELLIOTT SMITH"

Bliss

Tonight was one of those rare treats where the kids have tomorrow off school. Off to grandmas for a sleepover they went, leaving me the house alone.

I love these nights. Just me, no plans. Sometimes it's lonely but on nights like these they are fucking amazing.

So, I move all of the furniture, plug in and dance in the dark like crazy. It's amazing and happy making.

Which brings us to the self sabotage part of the evening. In hindsight it's always the best part.

We see ourselves naked all the time from the front. I'm used to it. I'm at the point that I look at my naked body in the mirror and while I have a wealth of flaws (as determined by western culture), I can take it. I have seen worse, i have seen better. No biggie.

Obviously, since I was feeling pretty good, I decided that it was a good time to prop up my camera and take a full on naked shot of myself from behind. You know, the side you aren't that familiar with?

It was hideous. First of all I don't know why I insist on putting the camera on the floor looking up with the flash. Seriously, that angle would make Keira knightly look like a lardo.

This is not the first time I have done this and this time around it was equally soul crushing. It's that whole feeling of laughing, genuinely laughing at it while being equally horrified.

I know I'm finally maturing (a bit). Last time I pulled this shit I was on the horn with my BFF within 5 minutes, crying. This time I just said "fuck it", grabbed a pint of icecream and now I'm all curled up in bed with my new boyfriend, John Hamm for 4 episodes of Mad Men

Honest to Christ. This was, hands down, the BEST date I have been on in months.

UHm...what?

So last night I went out with some friends to a pub for a pint (maybe two). I was blissfully unaware that it was open mike night. Nuff said.

Let me first say that I was feeling pretty accomplished, having not been assaulted on my way to my car. Yay me! Perhaps this is why I felt so invincible when I had a hankering for some peanut butter cups and decided to stop at a pretty sketchy store.

As I approached the store I saw a "gentleman" and his dog. Perhaps I was feeling nostalgic over the recent loss of Abbie. Perhaps I still felt like Superman after surviving a walk in Victoria park without a mugging. In any event, I asked to pet the dog. Of course some chit chat ensued. How old was the dog? What breed? Name? I thanked the guy for letting me pet his dog and went inside.

I couldn't help but notice I was being given the stink eye by our very own Methadone poster child. I wasn't sure what to think of it so I very nicely smiled. As she leaves SHE INTENTIONALLY SHOULDER CHECKS ME! Speechless (and scared shitless) I pay and I then see why she was so outraged. Dude with the dog was clearly her main squeeze. I only gathered this because she was royally screaming at him.

Perhaps it was a lot of pent up anger, frustration at these past few months.....but I walked out of that store with my head held high with no intention of causing a problem, but fully preparing for a smack down. You see, years of living with two older sisters has prepared me well for the brutality of women and really, I likely suffered more concussions by my 18th than this broad has at the hands shitty boyfriends. Also, my mouth is my biggest downfall.

This was the exchange, to the very best of my recollection:

(I'll assume she had a stripper name like Amber or Carly or Crystal)

Crystal: you moving on my man?

Me: I don't know who your man is but I am pretty certain my answer is no.

Crystal: you think you're better than me?

Me: Right now I do.

Crystal: (this was all a blur. Mostly profanities)

Me: *blinkblink*

Crystal: Ok. Let's go!

Me: Where?

Crystal: fuck you, bitch.

Me: Ok, well I best be going.

Crystal: Yea THAT'S what I thought.

So I get in my car and discover an accusing text from my daughter, chastising me for being past my curfew by 5 minutes.

Life is so very odd sometimes.

In other news, this years Halloween party theme is slutty barnyard animals!

Awww. Abbie

Abbie moved back with her Dad. It was with a very heavy heart that I said goodbye.

It's a no brainer with kids when folks split. Both parties get them in one capacity or another and no matter how bad the split, you just have to eat a lot of shit, suck it up and make it work.

But you don't really have to with dogs. Sure, some people make it work but I just didn't have it in me in this round of assholeexhattery to put in that effort. God bless every.single.one of my friends who urged me at the time to make a clean break and eliminate every shred of relationship past for never uttering the dreaded words "I told you so" when it became unbearable having her here.

Alas, it's another transition. I worry about her. I worry that she won't be cared for, loved the way she was here. I worry that once she becomes a road block in the life of her owner that she too will be tossed aside.

Because isn't that what I did? She stopped being a part of the family that I loved and cared for and became a reminder of an extremely painful part of my life. I resented her.

It's hard for me to reconcile this in my mind because now that the dust has settled and my life is exactly where it was before she came into it.....well, fuck me, now I ask myself if I hate her Dad more than I loved her?

I have spent years dedicating myself to martyrdom and only now am I admitting this. Eating shit is fine when it's both parties trying....but when the line between being compassionate and being a total doormat is blurred, it becomes tricky. I couldn't keep her without feeling taken advantage of! Who has two thumbs and feels like a total shitbag? THIS GIRL. I just couldn't get past it.

What's done is done. Goodbye sweet Abbie. I wish I was a bigger person and that you could still be running around with your little pack. I miss seeing you wait at the window for the girls to arrive from school, I miss your dog hugs and your hilariously guilty face. I know that you likely have already forgotten about us all. I know that you will have a wonderful life.

I'll go out tonight and have a scotch in your name. I love you and I miss you.

Martin Kloon

I have been singing a stupid song all day. Martin Kloon, Martin Kloon to the tune of three blind mice...over and over again. I don't know WHERE this song came from or why google refuses to show any results but I am losing my mind.

Anyway....I have a teevee date with John Hamm, the handsomest man alive. *sigh* why can't all men these days wear fedoras?

Red wine, mouthgasims and language lessons.

Saturday September 15, 2012 is a day to remember. I don't even know where to begin or how to describe this meal. First let me say that I am SO disappointed in myself for not bringing a better camera to the restaurant. The memories are captured on a shitty iPhone camera.

But we feasted on oysters on the half shell, charcuterie, head cheese fritters, foie gras, duck confit ....don't get me started. All washed down with glorious red wine.

Then the cabbie taught us how to say I love you in Somalian. Sadly, I have already forgotten.

Ah mazing

Dear Young Bolt

I've decided to build a time machine (obviously) but not for the reasons you might think. Basically I really want to hunt down Neil Diamond as a young man and stalk the shit out of him until he submits and becomes my wife. My prototype is less than desirable being that it's made of a cornflake box and crayons but I remain cautiously optimistic that it'll all turn out.

Anyhoo..while pondering the past, and my imminent travel there, I decided to seek myself out as a 16 year old girl and give myself some advice.

Again, in no particular order:

Don't go to prom with your ex boyfriend. You won't get you guys back together, just separated by cops because your grumpy and drunk morons.

Go to your classes. You have your whole life ahead of you to get stoned with your friends.

Really value your friends. You will be surprised how important they are, even when you are old. Old friends are the best.

Go ahead and marry your high school sweetheart. It's a bad idea and he is going to royally fuck you sideways up the ass......but you will have your family out of the deal as well as a good relationship with him later on. Try not to despair over it for long. It'll all be grand eventually.

Dance. I know your self conscious about it but don't wait until you are 35 to discover how good it feels to dance alone. If you start now you'll freely dance with others by the time you are my age.

Don't be so jaded about love! I promise you that you will have your heart smashed more than once. At the end of the day don't let the heartbreaks prevent you from opening yourself up to it again, when the time is right.

Your life is going to be SO much different than you had intended it to be. Don't waste your time pining away for something that didn't happen. The alternative is lovely.


Don't let an untrained dog live with you. You will lose her in a breakup which will not only break your heart but leave you with an $1800.00 estimate to repair your floors.

Hone your home improvement skills and invest in good tools. You'll need it.

Stop trying to convince yourself that there is good in everyone. Even if this is the case chances are you'll never see it. Write them off and move on.

When getting a brazillian wax, if you think the wax feels a wee bit warm SPEAK UP. If you think the initial 2nd degree burn is bad just wait till you hit the shower later.

Establish boundaries. Stick to them. This will serve you well.

And last but not least.....don't wait until you're 28 to admit that you jerk off. You aren't fooling anyone.

Good luck, young Bolt. Try to take better care of our skin for us.

Another crazy weekend.

Tonight I'm off to a wee little club I used to frequent quite often in my younger years. It has been take over by horrible university students but the band is an older one so hopefully it keeps away the douches.

Tomorrow I'm off to TO for a birthday dinner for an old friend. It'll be nice to dress up for once.

One thing I am grateful for is that I stopped fearing the 401. The fear being gone, plus my new gps has opened up my little world a bit.

Everything is coming up Bolt.

50 Shades of Grey

For the sake if full disclosure I will admit that I have never read this book but 50 Shades can seriously suck it.

Some folks are outraged to see that misogynistic drivel has garnered so much attention. I'm just offended that this book is being treated like a goddamned revolution. Wake up, dumbasses. You want porn? BUY IT.

It's ok. Men have been doing it for years. You don't need a book that by MANY accounts is a piece of garbage. Now, us wimmins, from what I hear, are nice submissive creatures who like to read sex rather than see it. Our little brains can only take so much dirt. Fine. I get it. Thing is, there are deviants out there who have vaginas yet WANT to see the dirty stuff. Now, last time I checked it is 2012 which is why it baffles me that woman are STILL ashamed of their sexuality.


Nut up. You enjoy it and that's ok. I can't stress this enough. There's nothing wrong with having a vagina AND liking porn.

For the record, I am not trying to suggest that I am an enthusiast. I do not own a single pornographic image. But to all the folks out there, buying this crap because you think it's the only socially acceptable way you can get off without your husband? It isn't.

Now go get her, Tiger!

Camera Obscura and some b-b-b-beets.

Next time Aunt Helen tells me that Uncle Herb picked me some beets I'll be more prepared. When I hear *some* beets it suggests that there is a handful waiting for me and to please come with my children so she can see them. Not that there is, in fact, quite literally a WHEELBARROW full of these bastards.

So I have spent the better half of this evening drinking wine and actually dancing alone in my kitchen to my new fav, Camera Obscura, while pickling these little red glories to enjoy all winter.

Life can be a little heavy sometimes. Every once in a while you just gotta dance with the beets.

Cool stuff.

Is that a gun in your pocket?

Just started watching Mad Men which I have to say is the best flipping show ever. John Hamm is one handsome guy but WHO is this Christina Hendricks? Holy chick boner, Batman.

I'm gonna dye my hair red and buy out mod cloth, starting with the red polka dot bikini.

My life is complete

I just saw two fat kids, busy on cell phones collide and the a mini quake was felt by all.

Love always,

Jabba The Cunt

On breaking free and rebounds

Man. Breakups. They certainly are the worst for a wee little bit. I find the period of time where the rose colored glasses are removed and every single flaw you were warned about but ignored come forward to be the most puzzling if not totally infuriating. You are bombarded with endless break up cliches and you know they are true yet you still walk around in a self pitying phase.

While we all have that moment, that breaking point where the douchbaggary seals the deal and you are donezo and over him...I find it takes a little more time to get over the actual relationship itself. I second guess myself all the time and the major concern is how on earth did I manage to place the relationship bar so low? I am not talking about forgetting to lower the toilet seat. I am talking every major red flag that an 18 year old virgin would run away from! I'm a bright woman, I have a family and certainly don't lack self esteem.....so what was it?

After a breakup, people with half a brain take a good 6 months to a year to reflect. Drooling retards with no self esteem try to find a relationship right out the gate.

I don't fall into either of these categories but I simply can NOT resist a gorgeous man, a deep voice, broad shoulders and an infectious laugh. This brings me to the rebound.

We act like rebounds are bad. Why? If both parties are well aware of the history and intentions I think they both deserve a break.

This girl loves her butterflies, laughing till her belly hurts and promises of breakfast in a king sized bed.

I think the rebound is the perfect compromise.

But yes, I make terrible choices .

On loving, losing and how Christie got her groove back.

And just as quick as it was here it was gone.

I had lived years without it. I actually enjoyed it. The freedom, the absence of compromise. In retrospect it was quite liberating as its lack of presence allowed me to do what I wanted without the distraction.

But I opened my heart and allowed it back.

I'm glad I did. It opened me up to new experiences, helped me relax, distracted me from silly little things like the crumbling economy and allowed me to laugh and weep freely.

But that didn't stop the pain once it walked out the door.

And then it hit me, why am I allowing something so fundamentally replaceable cause me emotional pain?

So I caved and drove my sorry ass to Best Buy to get a new teevee for my room.

Cuddling up in front of the idiot box, how I have missed you.

More on happiness.

I could have lost my job today. My cat could have been killed by a fat kid on a bike.

And it would be ok because I found guiness cheddar, smoked mussels and cheese crusted sausage.

Imma gonna eat this all as the angels smile down on me!

What I have learned.

In no particular order:


1). I can't paint. I love it, I do it often but oh boy, it doesn't look good.

2). I am extremely capable. With everything. Shit gets done on my watch.

3) I have grossly underestimated my running abilities. After tracking my runs I realized that I'm just gonna skip the 5k run altogether and go for the 10k.

4). I am a shameless flirt.

5). This body is NOT meant for rollerblading.

6). I can't stick to a plan to save my life.

7). My kids are HILARIOUS. And not kid funny, like actual funny.

8). Losing 35 pounds wasn't that hard.

9). Losing 250 pounds was even easier.

10). Quitting smoking IS hard...one week down and a lifetime to go.

11). I'm loved.

The pessimist in me is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things are almost "to good" right now.

The optimist in me is just enjoying the ride.

Goals-Part Deux

Ah goals. The constant reminders of my fickle nature.

Frankly, I don't know what I was thinking. No dating for a YEAR? I didn't last 2 weeks. Beehives?!?! Really? That idea is the worst, second only to my plans to build a chicken coup in my backyard.

Blogging every day. Well, so far I have managed, however, with family and life and courses and running and home renos....well, needless to say there are not enough minutes in the day.

I choose to look at this as a positive.

Goals can suck it.

Back to the pond.

The other day my kids were watching some shitty kids show. A commercial for eharmony came on. I realized that the online dating gig has come to realize that it's best to advertise during children's programming due to the high volume of lonely single parents out there with nothing better to do but watch shitty programming. I would like to think that I do not fall under that category. My youngest bellows out " YOU SHOULD JOIN" and after I locked her back in her cage I thought about it.

Now, I will never join eharmony after a rather unfortunate ego bruising I received several years ago when a 4'11 hobbit who I am fairly certain was walking around with an extra chromosome said HE wasn't interested in ME! Anyhoo, there are no shortages of cesspools out there to meet some
folks so I said to myself "Hey now, you are living in the now...DO IT!"

This isn't the first time in recent history I have done this but for whatever reason I bailed on it as fast as I joined.

I once knew someone who always tried (and failed) to get me out of my comfort zone. I always resisted as it was so, well, unnatural for me.

Not anymore says she! You know what? I AM going to go rollerblading with the ridiculously muscular meat stack who will likely be horrified with my total lack of grace and ability. I WILL go sailing with the 50 year old widower. Why? Because we have things in common, I'm opening myself up to new experiences, finally getting out of my comfort zone and meeting new friends to share these things with.


I only have one wee life and I intend on living it well.

And if I survive rollerblading I'll get us all pairs and force my kids to do it with me.

And maybe no on the sailing. Especially if his wife died in a sailing related "accident". I can only be so free spirited!

First day of school!

Isn't the first day of school always so magical?

All summer long we don't need to adhere to silly little bedtimes or appropriate snacks for our little darlings that are approved by the school board. Do you have any idea what a huge drag it is to not be late for work due to your little snowflake not being able to find a pair a socks that "feel right"?

Let's face it, my parenting skills take a major shit in the summer. I don't care when they get dressed. I don't have to drive all around the city to dance or gymnastics. Frankly, I don't give a rats ass if they don't eat breakfast! Are they breathing? Yep. Are they on fire? Nope. My job is done.

Now here we are, lunches to be made, constant demands for fund raising, ( Jesus, I don't want any fucking wrapping paper just take my money) wailing about lost shirts and calculators.

Back to school is awesome.......for me to POOP ON!

Happiness

I recently reconnected with an old friend from many years ago. Yesterday he made his way down from the big city to join me in a day of wandering.

First let me say that on our travels we stumbled upon a cured sausage COATED IN PARMESAN CHEESE and considering that cured meat and cheese top my list of favourite things, well, the day was off to a good start.

So, we had our sausage and began our frolic. Walking, driving, taking El Doggo to the river. All in all a lovely day.

Out of nowhere he poses the question "Are you happy?". Now this question came as a bit of a shock given we had spent the better half of 10 hours frolicking and laughing like idiots but he smiled and I knew that this was the time for the deep, philosophical portion of our time together!

We discussed the meaning of happiness and how we are able to reconcile the good and the bad and the downright ugly and move forward.

And of course the topic of my marriage came up

My divorce isn't something I dwell on but rather something I always refer to when the topic of moving forward and finding happiness again comes up. You see, it was by far my greatest learning experience.

That was the time where I lost everything. My home, my husband, any immediate plans for an education and a hell of a lot of money in legal fees. I thought I would die. I thought I was finished.

Hindsight is 20/20. I never lost myself. I always had my children.

What a Goddamned shame it would be to allow the failures to shape our lives rather than the lessons we learned from them. We can't go back in time and changed what happened. Running away to a happier time doesn't bring happiness, it's reflecting on our experiences and learning how to be better human beings that does. It's personal growth and the ability to recognize our weaknesses and take action and not allow ourselves to be stuck in a time that is no longer. How can we possibly be happy and subsequently succeed when we are still reaching for a branch that can not support our weight? Don't get me wrong, we have to go out on a limb from time to time, however, to be happy is the ability to laugh at the broken rib should the branch give way!

I don't have a lot and many could argue that my life is mediocre. I don't desire a life where I "have it all". I'm good with just a few pieces here and there. I have had my fair share of bumps and bruises but I can still genuinely laugh at the day. Things, money, people, they come and go as they please. It's the person I see in the mirror that will be my only guarantee in my life.

What it all came down to, three hours later after too many coffees at 4am, is that we need to be accepting of our pasts, that we need to be content with ourselves, right this moment because for all we know this could be it. We cant confuse this with complacency but we need to be just fine with our lives WHILE taking the steps to improve them. How can we ever achieve actual happiness without first settling into the comfort that is our being? That's the key. Right there.

And I am very happy.

Ps

I couldn't resist overturning a pail of potatoes. Not a lot but the perfect amount for two....ok, maybe three.

Frosh Week

My city is bustling with activity. This is the glorious time of year when all the students return to stake their claim. Underdressed girls and man children infiltrate every last corner of what is fun in the city.

In my defense, I believe I am suffering from PTSD from recently dating one of these folks (see goal 8 in a recent post).

Instead of fighting it I retreated to the safety of a friends house where we spent hours over boiling brine and a mountain of vegetables requiring preparation.

He did the math, long story short a lot of time was put in per jar. I don't care for the equation. I just know that it was a worthy labour of love.