I call Left Field

 

I make jokes about being single in my thirties for the same reason I made jokes about being picked last in school for sports. It helps ease the pain and insecurity I try hard not to feel.

I look around me in my family, work and other personal relationships, and often see a sea of marrieds. When I joke about going home to my video games or my cat, part of me just really wants to make people laugh, the other a tinge of "why am I last?"

In grade school I was often picked last for sports (what cruel teacher even sets shit up this way, no wonder I hated gym). Most commonly, baseball. I can't really sprint, I can't catch, and I can't hit the ball - naturally no one wanted me on their team.

I would always do a little dance as I walked over to the team to get me by default and yell out "I call left field!" and everyone would laugh. I would then suffer through the rest of the game, thinking about how much I hate baseball.

In life now, when people ask me if I'm married or have kids, or when I see the look of pity in peoples eyes, I do the same thing. I do a dance in the form of words and make people laugh.

I'm not sure why I was ever upset in school for being picked last, I never wanted to play in the first place. When it comes to romance, perhaps I feel the same.

I think it's time to call left field again.

Unicycle

 

If life was a bicycle race, I'd be a unicycle.

There is no shame in being single, most of the time.

If your family is anything like mine, first let me say, I'm sorry (see lovable maniacs blog). Then let me also acknowledge the asshole relative you have that feels the need to ask you about your love life each and every single time you see them.

For me, it's a yearly event that kicks me in the chin, emotionally speaking. Each Christmas a certain relative of mine, asks the same question. The first Christmas he asked me, was the year I broke up with my only real long term boyfriend. I was a mere 18. I was heartbroken, as we had split days before Christmas (aka I was dumped).

I walked into the family meeting place on Christmas Eve, mopey and sad I dragged myself in behind my parents, my sister, and her boyfriend (now husband). I met my cousins girlfriends and boyfriends, my uncles new wife, and then my relative looked at me and said, "so, where's you're boyfriend?"

I looked back at the door I just came through, looked at my relative and said "he's parking the car" in a very sarcastic tone.

My family laughed, and each year without fail, I get asked the same question over and over. I give the answer each time. The sad part is, I turn 31 next month and I've yet to have an actual boyfriend at Christmas. My relationships never seem to make it.

It's ok though, one day, maybe he will be out there, parking the car. However, I seem to stick close to my other idea, the idea that, he's not coming. Ever.

Each year I say the same thing and laugh about it, in fact it's a phrase other single friends of mine have borrowed. The question however, comes with a touch of shame, a feeling that there is something wrong with me.

Then I imagine a bicycle race. People riding down the course with two wheels, racing down the road. Then suddenly, in comes a rider on a unicycle, keeping a pace, following the road. Maybe the unicycle doesn't go as fast, maybe the rider of the unicycle doesn't get a medal.

But how much do you respect that rider? The one who goes it on a single wheel?!

I imagine they would make the front page of the sports section, and people would applaud their strength and courage.

So...for those of you out there riding the unicycle every day, remember this idea. Remember, You freaking ROCK.

MOVING HANS SOLO

The greatest adventure in life, is to try it alone. Who said that? I did fuckers. When I was in my mid-twenties, I decided to peace out of this place and move 5000 km away from my friends and family.

I had some time to transition to this new world, as a friend of mine was a mere hour away. I was working at a Provincial Park and became very close to the people I lived and worked with at the park.

As the summer came to an end along with my contract, I decided to get a job in the nearby town and stick around. I was living in Northern Alberta, and I enjoyed how close the wilderness was to me.

I landed a decent job and decided to make a career of it. As the leaves started to fall and the first frost came, I found myself moving out of an almost empty park house into a new city where I knew no one.

The last of the park crew left in November, and suddenly I found myself alone, in an unfurnished apartment and wondering what the FUCK I was thinking. The first night you spend alone in such a place is surreal, much like the first night at summer camp.

You hear strange noises and you miss the comforts of your home almost instantly. In my case, I had but a futon mattress, dishes and clothing and a mini portable dvd player, that is all. I felt as if I was in complete isolation.

I passed my time by watching every available season of The Simpson's and having strange dance parties alone in my kitchen. The first little while was indeed tough to handle. I felt like I was talking to myself way to much and going crazy without the feel of someone else's touch, even if just a hug.

The reason I felt the need to write about this time in my life, is because I was asked by a friend if I had any tips for moving to a new city alone. It brought me back, and I have thought upon some tips I learned along the way.

TIPS FOR MOVING ALONE

GET A HAIRCUT - AND GET A REAL JOB

Getting a job is what kept me in this new area. I was working at a Women's Shelter which meant I was working somewhere I wanted too. I found that important, but I understand not always possible.

Whether it's school, a placement, a minimum wage job or the career of your dreams, get out there and be a part of something full time. This will keep you busy, and around people.

Not only will this deal give you less time to thing about being alone, you will meet people and get more connected to this strange new place.

FIND PUBLIC PLACES TO HANG OUT

If you decide to hide in your dwelling feeling sad for yourself you will be miserable. Find places to go where you will be around other people to avoid crying constantly, or worse, crasturbating because you just can't stop (crying that is).


I always found grocery shopping to be comforting, so I would buy less and go twice a week. There was always lots of interesting people shopping, and I could exchange pleasantries with the cashier. I recommend this, the conversation has no awkward ending because your shit is packed and it's time to go - perfect because you leave feeling fulfilled.

Also works - parks, the library, a pub, the movies, and an active downtown area.

Even if you can't be with people out in these places, doesn't mean it's not nice to be around them. Besides, you've moved to a new place, go check shit out.

MAKE "FOR NOW" FRIENDS

I am not normally one to encourage lowering your standards, but here's the deal, if you meet someone you maybe wouldn't normally hang around with but they seem to want to...go with it.


So what if they are known as the town bicycle, they have a birthmark that makes them look like Hitler or they have an odd obsession with cheese. You can look past these things for now.

It's someone to hang out with and show you around, load up on that shit, just remember not to share to much personal information, and for goodness sake do not apply this rule to dating.

My "for now" friend was a little on the mentally and emotionally unstable side, but for the first bit she made for a great person to hit the bars with (yes, drinking helps with being on your own, but only when you are with at least one other person you "know"). 

PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE - THE FRIEND DATE

How to ask out a potential friend without seeming like you are asking them on a date. Extremely tough if they are either gender (especially when you are confused as a lesbian as often as I am).


This is a tough one, cause let's face it sometimes people get the wrong idea, especially if you ask them out to dinner. My suggestion leads back to the first tip, which is getting a something to do full time.

After the thing that you do, ie work, ask this person if they want to catch a drink or a coffee. Make sure it's not someone you find sexually attractive, as it's just not a good idea to date right away.

The friend date can lead to wonderful things, or a for now friend. Either way, it's an outing you can hopefully enjoy and tell the folks back home about.

SEE THE LOCAL ATTRACTIONS

I don't care if it's the giant beaver attraction in the next town over, go see that shit. While there, take a picture and put it on facebook. You will enjoy showing off where you are, and knowing what people back home think about it.

Secretly, you will also make them jealous. Guess why? They are stuck in the same old place doing the same old thing, which will lose it's comfort when they see the adventure you are having.

So be sure to have 'em. 

LEARN ABOUT YOURSELF - FIND SOME HOBBIES 

Being isolated at times, meant I had time to really think about how I wanted to fill my time. I discovered things I didn't know about myself.


When I was in grade school, I didn't like art. My shit never looked like what it was suppose to and often times I ended up just accidentally gluing shit to myself and loosing points on my overall self esteem.

When I moved alone, and had oodles of time to myself, I started to paint. I was really bored one afternoon and found myself at the dollar store buying random art supplies.

Now, I love to paint. It helps me relax, I enjoy the ideas I can splash on a canvas and it has provided full decoration for my current apartment.

Find what makes you tip, you now officially have the time. 

GET YOURSELF A COMPANION 

For me, this meant flying back from my Christmas vacation with my cat. Once I had her in my life, I felt better. When I came home from work I was greeted with prrs and love, and I could tell at least someone about my day (yeah, it probably looked a little fucked).


Pets provide love, give you a time filler and make being on your own less lonely. If you have no pet option (remember, fish count) then I suggest a plant. Something you can take care of, and give love too.

I had a plant before my cat came to live with me, and his name was Mario.

COME HOME WITH STORIES TO TELL

Don't be a shit head and spend all of your time at work or at home with your six cats, make sure you get out there and do some silly shit. The benefit of moving to a new area alone, is NO ONE KNOWS YOU.

You can suddenly get away with things you just didn't feel comfortable doing in your home town/city/etc. Nobody is going to tell your parents they saw you in the Legalize IT march, you will not run into your ex boyfriend and his wife and kid, and you can get away with smoking in public without the fear of your grandmother catching you (yes this applies even when you are 30).

You can experiment with who you want to be, whether it's to dye your hair bright purple, make out with people at the bar or feel out wearing hammer pants in public. It's a beautiful change to just be you, after all you don't know these people so who gives a fuck.

MEET THE BEST FRIEND YOU EVER COULD

I will sum it up with this last section here. There was a moment when I felt like I was going to be ok, and then there was a later moment when I knew it would be hard to ever leave.


The first moment had an unfortunate start. I had been officially alone in a new city for a month and without any new additions to my apartment, I was feeling very alone. To make matters worse, I came down with a horrible stomach flu.

The degree of this stomach flu was epic, and it pained me to call in to my new job sick, but I had no choice. Before I called, I called my mom, and sobbed to her on the phone about how awful I felt and how lonely I was.

My mom told me after that she almost flew out to be with me, but something changed. I called into work to tell them I was ill, and a placement student answered the phone. I really enjoyed what I knew of her, but she was new in my life.

I started to cry, I couldn't help it. Being sick when alone like that is almost unbearable, and I broke. I told her through sobs that I was very sick and I wouldn't be at work.

She asked me if I needed anything. I paused for a moment, and said, "really?"

I could hear her smile through the phone and she asked if I wanted some ginger ale, and I told her yes. I lived a one minute walk from the shelter (Living close to a your full time gig is a good call at first as well, makes it easy to get comfortable in a new place). She was at my door within twenty minutes, and I greeted her in the front hallway of my apartment building.

I thanked her for coming by, and could feel tears rising again as I stood in front of this almost stranger in my pjs. She looked at me, and said "I moved here alone as well. I know what it's like. If you ever need anything or feel alone, there is a place just down the street full of people who can help."

It lifted a weight off of me I cannot describe. I suddenly felt like I wasn't alone anymore, and I could do it. This moment will come, but you have to give it time.

The moment I knew I would never want to leave, was the night I did a night shift at work with a staff I hadn't worked with yet. I was a bit nervous, as on a night shift it's just you and that other staff.

If they suck balls, your night sucks balls. Within the first twenty minutes of meeting her, I decided she was going to be my new best friend. It was the meeting of a kindred.

We instantly clicked and by the middle of the night were crying from laughter. As the sun came up and I walked home from work that morning, I knew I was going to be at home soon enough.

This amazing woman turned out to be my best in the west. Our friendship is like two kids playing happily in a sandbox (one where both of us have peed and neither cares).

She is a friend I will now have forever, who ended up making my time out there incredible. She is also the friend that asked me for tips, so I wrote a blog.

Although I eventually moved home and had to hug her farewell, she is still with me everyday. She is in my heart and in my mind, and not a day goes by where I don't at least think of her.

This blog is for you Lloyd, so basically the best tip I have is to find a similar me, in your new city. I love you, and I love you so much, that if this new "me" is closer to you or better in any way, I will kill her.

Then assume her identity. Unless it means loosing weight.

I love you, thanks for making my years in Hickton glorious, and good luck in your new adventures. 

LB Plus None

Wedding invitations, fuck em. Guess what soon to be and current marrieds - as singles - we hate getting this shit in the mail. In the time of email and texting it's rare to get a letter addressed to you, and true, when you pull that shit out of the mailbox you are stoked.

That is, until you see the front. The part where it says "Your Name plus Guest." Fucking guest right? You can already feel your brain searching for a potential date, and no one comes to mind. It's maddening, and it makes you feel like a lonely piece of crap (no matter how full your life seems).

I always had a back up for weddings, a friend of mine I have known for years who has been my constant date. He's perfect for it. He's a great friend of mine, we laugh together, he dances, and he knows my entire family since he's essentially a part of it (long time family friends). I will say that I never experienced too much anxiety because I knew I was single, but covered.

I could save the sad choke back of lonely tears for the wedding ceremony alone and I would be good otherwise. Things changed, the day I got his wedding invitation in the mail.

The wedding invitation, was not sent to my apartment, despite the fact that I moved out almost a decade ago. The wedding invitation did not have a plus guest, in fact the invitation was addressed to my parents plus me.

That's right folks, I am the plus one, and I have plus none.

The sad part of it, is that this now meant the last TWO weddings I've been invited to (in a list of many) there was no plus one. Prior to this my friends sent me an invitation for a wedding out of town for just me.

I guess I am so chronically fucking single the people in my life don't even bother to place a date option for me. I am the poster woman for dateless. I am the embodiment of Bridget Jones, and here I stand, alone, just like the cheese.

I was unable to make the first dateless invite, but indeed I attended the wedding of my long time wedding date.

My father was ill that day, and so my mother let me know not to worry, she would be my date. So now I've gone from plus one status to backup plan or pity date, fuckin eh.

We were not seated together and within the first ten minutes I found myself standing alone in a wedding hall full of couples. Couples and me. Just like the invite. 

I am not sure if you have ever experienced the feeling of complete loneliness, but at that particular moment, I felt it, and I felt it deep. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes, I could feel my throat closing in and was sure my nose was already red in anticipation.

I stood there, motionless in my party dress and high heels, completely alone. That's when I saw him, across the room. He was there, on his own, and now was my chance.

I walked as fast as I could in shoes I never wear, and found myself face to face with him in the back corner of the hall.

With no hesitation, it came out so easy. "I'll have a white wine, and can you just fill that shit up to the top so I don't have to come back as much?"

He smiled.

From then on, my night was great. So thank you, to the bartender, who didn't judge my binge drinking to escape my sadness.

Yearly Check Up

 

Fucking shit. Nothing worse than realizing your time is up, and it's time to get personally checked under the hood again. Why on earth would I write about going to see the gyno? Because I had a rather grand visit there recently, that's why.

I can be an anxious person at times, but nothing sends me into a spin more than hitting up this exam. Every year this visit becomes more and more painful, and I don't mean physically, I mean emotionally.

I do not own a scale of any kind (not even for cooking, because I'm not that precise). I don't weigh myself because my clothing tells me enough, and I feel it's just not healthy for me, as I can obsess.

So what's the first thing I get to do upon arrival (after waiting an hour surrounded by pregnant women and small children), I step on the scale. The scale being in the hallway next to the waiting room for all to see. I know they can't fully see the number, I just don't need an audience. It's like having someone at a carnival guess your weight, no one over sixteen picks that option. Eventually we all opt to have them guess our birthday.

At this office, although it sounds like a carnival with all the kids running around,  I step on, the audience is present, but there is no chance of a prize, bullshit. The least they could do is fancy a guess and toss some condoms or pamphlets my way.

After the pain of seeing a number I didn't want to see flash up on the scale, I walked my way down to the room to await doctor claw. I can feel myself fighting tears, and I try to pass it off as allergies when he finally enters the room.

I sit across from him, and he pulls out my sheet. The conversation goes like this:

DOC: How old are you now?
ME: Thirty
DOC: Married? Do you have a husband?
ME: No
DOC: Any children?
ME: Nope
DOC: Any pregnancies?
ME: No
DOC: Sexually active?
ME: Do I count as a partner?

Or maybe I just said NO and slumped further into my chair looking at my life and wondering if I'll be alone forever.

He proceeded with the medical questions and once he finished and scolded me for smoking, handed me the teeny tiny gown and excused himself. I hate getting into that shit, it's bad enough I suffered through a weigh in and questions that make me depressed, I now get to attempt to get myself into what appears to be a child's apron.

I await the return, and stand awkwardly to conceal my nudity which feels like it's popping out from all sides. The doctor returns with a young woman. He introduces her as a med student, and before he can go on I know what he's about to ask me.

I am all for training. Everyone starts new, and has to practice. But why must they all practice on me? A bad haircut I can get over, a bad exam in my under region, no thank you.

Alas, I say yes and now have an audience of two staring into my vagina. She doesn't even introduce herself and in goes that fucking tool I hate. I call it the claw, even though I am aware of it's true name. She fucks up, and has to do it again.

She fucks up again, and ends up doing it twice more before the doctor steps in. I felt like I should ask to go out for a smoke, because four pokes is short but it's the most action....you know where I'm going with this...

Four times. If you go to get blood taken and they fuck up twice, that's it. This should be an overall rule for anything. To top off my visit, as the doctor has his hands in me and I am staring at the ceiling waiting for it to end (insert married joke here); he looks down at me, and starts asking about my life out west and my new job.

What the fuck?! He wishes me well when all is said and done, and out the room my audience goes, leaving me in a gown, sitting on a table feeling low. Did I want to cry? Yes. Did I wait to do so in the privacy of my car? Yes.

Nothing hotter than a single thirty year old woman driving down the road crying. Did I then get into a Hank Williams frame of mind and start thinking I am so lonesome I could cry? Yes, I did. Then, I did something I've slowly learned to do....

I got over it. I got over it with a trip to see my mom, a swim in her pool, a nice cold beer and a good old fashion hangout with my friend. If I was married with kids, I may not have taken his questioning so harshly, but if I was married with kids, I wouldn't have the freedom to do all those things in a day. 

FIRST DATE F#$K UPS

 

Did he just fart? Did he seriously just let out a silent bomb in the car, and say nothing, as though I would not notice? Can he not smell that? Is he hard of smelling? Does he expect me to think it wasn't him, meaning that it must have been me? It was a first date fart that I could have done without. 

I haven't been on a good date in a long while. In fact, I haven't been on a date period in a long ass time, years even. I am not sure what a successful date looks or feels like, it's simply been to long. I can't provide any advice on the how to's of dating, so instead I am going to try something different.

These are not ideas I have simply plucked out of my head, they are indeed things I have witnessed, done or heard about that have happened on dates. Here is my list, of DO NOT DO'S.

DON'T

Fart, as mentioned prior. If you feel a fart brewing on a first date, I suggest you figure out an exit strategy. Either relieve yourself for a moment, hold that shit tight if you can't, and if you have no choice but to let er rip, admit it after the fact.

I dated a guy who ripped a wicked foul silent mushroom cloud in his fancy leather interior car and say nothing about it. He didn't even roll down the window, he just went on as though it never happened.

I could sense his panic, and I could taste his fart.

Just don't do it.
  
DON'T

 Show up in track pants. I love track pants as much as the next gal, they are easy access after all....but on a first date - what the fuck are you thinking?! No one should have any reason for this, none.

Is it laundry day? I am sure you knew you had a date, giving you time to launder a pair of non track pants. Did you just play some form of sport or work out? Then why the heck didn't you shower and change after, it's a first date shit for brains. Are track pants the only pants you own? I am not materialistic, but come on!

No - good - reason.

I've dated this guy also, and what's worse, he didn't just wear track pants....

.....he tucked his shirt into them.

No, I didn't have sex with him.

DON'T

Get shit faced. No brainer right? Wrong. I am a smart lady, and I just got a bit carried away with the pints of brew...and forgot the fact I don't drink all that much. 

Is a drunk rambling chain smoking lass a good catch? Apparently not.

There was no date number two...I totally get why. I should have mixed in some water, ate more for dinner, or skipped the whole thing altogether, because even now I cringe at the thought of the hot mess I must have been (just, less hot and more pukey).

Don't get piss tanked, not on the first date.

Also, don't get wasted a few months later celebrating St.Patty's Day and run into the guy, then rant about how he didn't call you while spilling your beer and slurring your words.

BEER - TWO L.B. - ZERO.

DON'T

Destroy the restaurant. Try to keep the dishes in tack and on the table, along with the table cloth. My mother (yes, she dated once) went out to a nice Italian restaurant with a young suitor.

It happens, and it's not a full don't, but his fly was down. When informed of this, he was quick to the draw, a little to quick. No he didn't zip his member into the pants al la Something About Mary, instead, he zipped in the table cloth.

What's worse, he didn't notice. Mid meal he excused himself to the washroom, and upon getting up and walking took the contents of the table with him.

This young man, is not my father.

DON'T 

Talk about your ex. While on this topic, please don't also talk about how amazing she was, how much you miss her, and how great she looked. Please don't go on to mention her awesome rack, while showing a picture of a bare chested ex-girlfriend on your phone.

I never thought I would have to make a request to not do this, but he did it.

She did have nice boobs, I will admit to that.

DON'T

Show up, if you are anything less that what I am looking for in a partner. Why? I simply don't have the time anymore. 

Palm Reading from Hell

I've had palm readings and tarot cards read, and although deep down I know it's just for entertainment, I use them as a tool.

Each time I have gone I couldn't help but feel my hope renewed because almost each and every time I get told love and a great career is on the way.

The first time I went, I had just turned eighteen, I have gone between then and now (thirty) and mostly it's been all good news. I can't help but wonder now,  where the fuck is he, and why the piss do I not have the golden career?

Perhaps they were all wrong, or worse, the only woman who told me different was right.

I was down in New Orleans with friends in the early 2000's, and somewhere in the French Quarter I sat in the hot humid Louisiana sun, and had my palm read by the most authentic looking palm reader I've ever seen.

She was blind in one eye and it was clouded over, her hair was long and in tattered curls and she had an ongoing outfit of scarves tied together to make a dress type thing. 

This woman was incredible, she told me things I'd never told anyone, and many of her predictions have indeed come true. She was specific about details of my past, and I sat across from her in wide eyed wonder.

Telling me I was set for financial security and a job I will love, made me feel glorious hope, and the fact that she was so dead on with other things, I felt like maybe this woman could see it all in the lines of my hand.

She told me I had dated many snakes (she said snakes, I say assholes) and that I had more to wade my way through, she was right. Then she told me one last bit of information, I wish she hadn't.

After an intense reading, she looked up at me with a sad look, and said the words I'll never forget. "I'm sorry," she said, "but you'll never meet your soul mate."

Boom. There it was smack dab in the middle of my vacation, a clairvoyant gypsy telling me that there really is not point to date. By her vision, I dated a lot of jerks, was going to date even worse only to end up not with my soul mate.

NICE. Thanks a shit load gypsy lady, you really didn't need to tell me that last part. The only good to come out of this, is the calm I now feel knowing I don't even need to worry about dating, indeed there is no reason.

Maybe she was right, maybe I'll never meet my soul mate. Luckily, I have beer, and soon enough I should be getting that career to match this financial security. Unless of course that's the one thing she's wrong about....

Single Female finds the Fish Plenty, but Rotten

It all starts with me spending quality time on my couch watching television and cuddling with my cat. It's my special time of the month, and all I want to do is eat and occasionally cry for no reason. I'm trying to zen out and another one of those damn commercials flashes on my screen.

Did you know that one in five relationships now start online? No shit. It's another website for singles to connect with other singles in an attempt to meet that "one". The commercial causes me to flash back to a time when I thought that this shit was possible.

I can tell you, that the people compiling these advertisements and sites have clearly not spent enough time accessing them, as they have no bloody clue what it's really like.

First off, what's with the people they use to show what a first meeting looks like. Where do they find these people? Did they send them to Extreme Makeover first that included a wardrobe overhaul and teeth whitening?

No one I have ever met off any site has looked remotely close to anyone who I've seen on TV, in fact let's be honest, you are lucky if the guy shows up showered or sober most attempts.

The date these people are on is also absolute shite. The couple sits happily at a table, laughing and talking in their nicest business casual attire while sipping wine. The restaurant is high class, and after dinner it pans to them doing activities I would expect out of a romantic comedy, not real life.

The final part of the commercial shows couples who met on said site, the date they contacted and clips of them sharing how happy they now are because they found someone. The person they found always seems to be the same colour and size, and they are usually wearing outfits that match.

I am just doubtful these people even exist. These sites, whether free all the time or tossing free weekends at you, are all the same. In fact, you are likely to find the same people on more that one if your looking.

Common decency was lacking from most messages I received no matter which site I used. The one that claims to have plenty of singles is the worst, the plenty of fish they have are the ones left at the bottom of the ocean.

No one is swimming in the dating pool, we are wading. Why is that my friends? The dating pool is shallow. These sites do not offer anything worth a wade. Every time you check in to these sites to see who's found you, you get a gaggle of messages that are enough to make you consider a switch to the other team.

I know that women are still objectified to a horrid degree in this world, and still I was consistently disturbed with how I was spoken to in messaging. When you log in and see that you have pending messages, there is a moment of excitement, until of course, you open these messages.

Sometimes they would simply say "HI", as though this is going to somehow catch my attention. Often, the message would say something about my picture (cute smile, nice whatever) then follow with a request to see more pics, nude ones.

These potential suitors don't even bother to use proper English most of the time, and so the message is written as "Hey QT got nude pix? send me sum". What a romantic how you met story for the future in-laws.

If they didn't ask for nude pics right away, they eventually did. If they were trying to convince me they were respectful of women, they would instead ask me for a "body shot". Apparently a picture of my shoulders up is not acceptable.

No matter how they try and deny it, they want to know if I am of tiny waist. They want to make sure I'm not a "fatty" and most likely have a "No Fat Chicks" t-shirt kicking around somewhere.

You know what affects more women in Canada than breast cancer? Eating disorders, gee I wonder why we worry.

The men who were asking too see all of me might I add, often looked about three months pregnant with a receding hairline but had they been decent, I would have not cared to notice. 

The dates I was offered were never for a romantic dinner, in fact not even for a simple coffee date for the most part. Common date request (when I've not even met the person) is to go over to their place and watch a movie.

Yeah that sounds safe. Shall I take my pants off when I walk in or wait five minutes? What happened to the days of the bar when people would at least fake small talk and get drunk before asking such a silly thing.

I was asked more times than I care to count if I was good at performing a certain act (rhymes with flowie) and if I had ever thought about having a threesome with another girl. Worse still, the threesome question was often formulated in a question that would include a friend.

Example: 

Me - I can't do a coffee date tomorrow I am having a girlfriend over for coffee, how about the day after? 

HotGuy4U29 - She hot? Wanna do a threesome hahaha lol jk.....maybe 

Sigh, fuckers.

Once you wade through all that shit, you get to the few people you could actually maybe agree to meet, and holy goodness, they want to get a coffee. This is when I would get a bit more excited, get a good shower on and wear my cleanest of clothes.

Nearing the end of my online dating days I stopped wondering if I would hit it off with a date and started to wonder what version of the online person was now going to show up (if at all). When meeting these people, it's not like the commercial.

The commercials should show dates showing up stoned or half drunk, wearing sweat pants and talking about their last girlfriend who broke their heart or was a total psycho. Because that's the shit I've seen walk through the door.

Not only were most of them nothing like the picture they put up, they were also about a full foot shorter than they said. If the guy checked off non-smoker, fuck that shit, he's smoking like it's 1955. Said he'd never date someone who did drugs, and you're getting high off the fumes from his jacket.

It's all the same, a big fucking let down, and again, that's if he shows (nearing the end for me it was usually me not showing up, because something better came up, like Coronation Street was on).

Dating websites are not a place to find Mr Right. They are an online place for people to meet friends with benefits or one night stands. Every profile I checked after getting a raunchy first email would almost always have "Looking for a serious relationship" as their looking for field. Fuck - right - off!

Dating sites offer a bunch of d-bags, some of whom aren't even single. I really loved getting the "hey sweetie im looking for something discreet" messages. I would always respond, with a lashing and recommendation they seek the site for people who are married to have affairs.

It is insanity trying to find love on these sites. They are to dating what infomercials are to shopping. Attempting these sites you will not find love, maybe just get some sweet sweet chlamydia.

 I gave up on the prospect and stopped buying into the idea that just maybe I was going to be the lucky one who stumbled upon that guy. The one who has given up on the bar scene and is looking for long term.

He doesn't exist. He says that's what he wants, but here's the deal. That same guy is on five other sites and has been at it for ten years, FYI. There's also a reason he's still single.

Forget dating sites, and take the commercials advice. Four out of five relationships don't start online. 

Story Time with Balls

The sweet taste of having wonderful friends is what makes my life of singletude completely bearable. My friend, we will call her Balls (at least that's what she's in my phone under) is an effervescent lady who delights me with her childhood stories. Like me, she has lived through some horrifically embarrassing moments, and to be able to sit down and share them, makes for good times.

The other night, we were discussing certain items we had dropped over the years. I started by telling her about my ballet days. As a child, I was round like Garfield, perhaps a side effect of watching him on Saturday mornings. My mother had to literally hold on to my leotard, and I would jump up and down to simply get into the damn things.

I am not sure how then, during a concert while dancing around in a circle to some bullshit peter pan music, my tutu fell down. I almost stepped out of the damn thing, but made a fast pull up and kept on going. Perhaps my round middle pushed the item of clothing in a downward motion, otherwise I am not sure how this occurred.

Balls fired back by telling me of a time when she danced as well. Grade eight brought her to the stage, and in her time to shine she had a major shoe malfunction. I've had these as well, I am sure you have too. It's when the tip of your shoe gets caught in something, a wood panel, the sidewalk, your other foot, causing you to do a silly skip forward.

When holding on to something, it occasionally causes you to drop that item. In the middle of a chorus of students waving their tambourines in the air, she did a trip, slip and drop. The tambourine went down, but her spirits did not. We are kindreds you see, as I pulled up my tutu and went on, she simply waved her hands along side her stage mates, in an attempt to either act like nothing happened, or to at least value that the show must go on.

The conversation rolled from there, and brought me to an unfortunate even in the hallway when I was in grade eight. When you are female, it is terribly embarrassing to admit to anyone that you have your period. It's something you try and pretend does not exist in any capacity.

It was a winter day and I was at my locker happy to be at the end of the school day. I grabbed my winter jacket out of my locker and threw it on over my head (recall the style in the 90s included pull over short jackets riddled with florescent shapes). I went on with my routine of collecting all my items while trying not to let all the garbage in my locker fall out, when a very shy classmate turned to me.

His face was beat red and he said, "um, I think you dropped something."

I looked down and in horror saw it sitting there in the hallway of the Public School I attended. It was a pink kotex pad, and it lay there laughing at me. I did what any 13 year old would do in a situation like this, I said immediately, "that's not mine."

He looked away asking nothing more, but he knew. He saw it fly out of my front pocket and land on the ground. To make matters worse, the janitor came by with his big broom, and pushed that pad all the way down the hall. I left school in a hurry that day.

Balls came back at me, with what is now my favourite of her stories. She recalled a moment in the hallway at school, high school. It was grade 11 and she was also prepping for the end of the school day. High school hallways are scary as fuck, even walking through them as an adult I can still feel a tingle of insecurity. Every move you make in that hallway is calculated as a teenager, most of us just trying to blend in.

Balls was collecting her items, and was jolted by a loud smashing sound as a juice bottle crashed onto the hard cold floor next to her. Being concerned she reacted by calling out to the other students down the hall, "Somebody dropped their juice!"

She then turned to look at the damaged beverage on the ground and realized, it was her juice. She did it, she is that somebody. And she just yelled down the hall to alert everyone.

Adding to her original question she informed her classmates that it was indeed hers, and to never mind. I pictured this story from her angle, and after catching my breath from laughter, I pictured it to anyone else standing in that hallway looking at her.

What you would see, is a young girl drop her juice (I am assuming fruitopia) and yell out asking who done it. She done it. Then the look on her face once realizing, that indeed, she dropped the juice. I think that's a good lesson on life, perhaps if I could relive my pad incident, I would own up to that shit the way she did.

Story time with Balls is always a fun affair, as long as no one drops their juice. 

Five Good Reasons to Be Single on V-Day

 Regardless of “status” I don’t celebrate this day.  As mentioned previously I see it as a commercialistic bullshit holiday that has no place in my world. That being said, here are five reasons I think it’s a plus to be single on V-Day.

1.       You don’t have to be subjected to disappointment. I mean, sure, you may be sad about the fact that you are “alone” on this day, but at least you aren’t stuck with a partner who drops the ball on the entire day. I have heard this complaint time and again. I hear them mostly at work, whispers among coworkers saying that their so and so; didn’t propose, forgot to make reservations, only got a card, got drunk, worked late, etc. I chuckle to myself knowing that my evening was not a disappointment, because there was simply no hype to let me down from.

 

2.       Chocolate. That’s right, it’s a bonus. Chocolate you say? Impossible! If you are single there is no way you can obtain chocolate. Right? WRONG. Not only can you actually go out to the store and purchase your own chocolate, you can venture out on February 15^th, and purchase that shit half price! Besides, if you are with someone, that someone most likely forgot to get you anything anyways (see previous) so being single = win.

 

3.       No Lingerie. F*&k that noise. I am not interested in having anyone other than me pick out my undergarments. Sure, I may get a fruit of the loom three pack for Christmas from my mom every year, but otherwise, I am able to locate this stuff on my own. Who benefits from this gift anyhow? I sure as heck don’t. I’ve seen that stuff, I’ve even touched it. It’s not comfortable. There are strappy dealies, lace and fur and other things that are going to pull and itch. Not to mention, what if it’s not the right size, what if it’s, gasp, too small? That will really make you feel sexy eh? If I decide at some point my body belongs in that shit even for a moment, and somehow it looks as it’s suppose too, the gift is yours, not mine. I am glad I’m single; I avoid awkwardly saying thank you and putting that crap on.

 

4.       Money in your pocket. You know what costs money? Valentine’s Day. Even if you just nip out to the store to grab a card to say “I love you”, you are set back at least $5.00. I can think of better ways to spend that money, like on half price chocolate after the day is done. A good old hot dog from a street vendor, that’s a better buy as well, and I could go on (but the other examples are all food as well).

5.       A day to rejoice in the fact that you didn’t settle. Look around at the people you know, and look closely. They may be devouring dinner for two on V-Day in low lighting, but deep down these couples are sitting across from each other daydreaming about stabbing one another in the eye with their fork. I’m not saying all couples are like this, some people are lucky and have found healthy love, but there are a boat load of people who got scared to be alone, and settled. Pat yourself on the back on this day, reminisce about the shits you’ve dated and imagine for a moment how unhappy you could be, and then remember you’re not.

HEY FACEBOOK IM KNOCKED UP!

It's baby making season in my world, and I need to vent about something most annoying. The stream of posts I keep locating in my news feed on FB, to the theme of - HEY ALL I AM HAVING A BABY!

Today, my mom stopped over to visit me and bring me more chicken soup as I have been fighting the flu for a few weeks now.

We sat and visited for a bit, I thanked her a million times, and told her how wonderful it is to have such a loving mother who still takes care of me when I need her. She has been all over the city this past month taking care of me, my sister and her baby, and now my father.

Last night, she said she was frustrated to an extreme. She said she is tired, and had to take out the garbage because my dad is so sick. She sat with me today, and said she can really understand how hard it must be to be single, especially when sick, because no matter what you have to do it all on your own.

I felt validated. It was nice to hear someone say it, because often times I feel like no one gets it. After my mom left, I had her amazing home made soup and followed it up with a nap (I think I have been napping since Christmas).

When I awoke, I got up and decided to check my computer, and sit up for a little while. When I logged on to facebook, there it was, another baby announcement. The post to tell all your friends, you got knocked up and in X amount of months you are planning to bring life into the world, let's all dance and celebrate.

OK, it's exciting, I am happy for all of those who are expecting and what not. Here is my major irritation today, the way she announced it, was by using this quote "You will never understand the love of a mother, until you are a mother yourself."

Fuck, right, off. So let me get this straight, if you are a man, or a woman without children (that may be choice or biological restrictions) you simply can NOT understand the love of your mother.

Today when my mom brought over soup, and I thanked her lovingly, I was apparently unable to show how much I got her love, because I haven't been blessed my own children. This is what I am to believe? That I could not possibly have figured out to this day how much my mom loves me? I think, if you have a good mom, you understand what a mothers love is all about.

Another problem I have with these posts, often times they are put out there WAY to early. I am glad you peed on a stick five minutes ago and hopefully you washed your hands before logging on to your laptop to tell the world about it, but what happens if its false? What happens if you don't carry this to term?

It's a miracle, one you may want to share openly with your close friends and family, but when your friends list totals more than 100 people, I am sorry, some of us just don't need to know the news yet.

I think having children is probably all it's made to be, and that's good for you. But do me a favour and stop making it out to be this gigantic TO DO in life that if you don't do well, you will be heartless and loveless and lonely.

 All you did was have sex, lots of people have sex, the people I admire more are the ones who have done it FOR YEARS and haven't disrupted the already overpopulated world by making a baby.

When Beyonce came out on stage and showed off her new belly, as if to say "look at how glorious I am world I am with child", most people rolled their eyes and said "people do it everyday, you are no one special." Well guess what, neither are you. 

V Day

It's coming, so I guess it just makes sense that I rant about that upcoming "holiday" that occurs somewhere between February 13th and February 15th. I don't celebrate it, I don't think it's a valid holiday, and every year I roll my eyes and look the other way when it returns.

In grade school, I loved (deep breath) Valentine's Day. It was a time to exchange cards, receive hugs from my parents, and eat chocolates. My school had a bake sale each year and my mother and I would make chocolate suckers, it was a shit load of fun.

As I grew into puberty, the end of grade school promised something more, a dance. A Valentine's dance, which brought with it the glorious dream that I would finally dance with my crush and have my first kiss. I was let down, abruptly.

I've been let down ever since.  When it came to dances, although I did rock the mosh pit I otherwise stood against the wall, watching other couples dance. Now, fast forward to present day and I watch other couples enjoy dinner, attend movies, get married or engaged and other such insanity if I even DARE step out the door on said day.

I can't even go out for dinner with a friend, because we will be seated among a sea of kissy faced assholes sharing the only offered "for two" meal that night. The restaurant business excludes me specifically that night, it's offensive.

What do I do when I find myself single on Valentine's Day? The same thing I do when I'm in a relationship, I spend time with my closest friends and consume beverages of the bubbly variety.

It's a protest that started about a decade ago, when I had been let down enough (only took a mere 7 years) to know that it was all crap. Hype, created to get those "in love" to buy crap to tell that person they feel said way. I don't see why people can't just say it, but what do I know?

So I saw it for a commercial holiday for suckers, which excluded certain lifestyle choices and said - F THAT. The first few years was easy, I had a ton of single friends from University who were on the "never get married" train (most are now indeed married) and we hit the town, never to mention the "day".

A few years into it, I found myself drunk and downtown New Orleans wandering with other single travelers. We passed a man selling roses who was shouting out "Valentine's Day is for the Ladies". He repeated it so much, it stuck with me, and that is my new ideal.

It is for the ladies, if you think about the traditional way we look at it (and by that I am picturing Ned Flanders singing to his wife). It's all seemingly about getting us diamonds, roses, chocolates, etc. It IS for the ladies.

If it's for the ladies, then why do I need a man? I make the day about spending time with friends (the group has dwindled), where we make dinner, drink wine, and sit around being, well, fabulous. Yeah, surprise, we are JUST like in sex and the city,....note sarcasm.


I don't need a day to tell me I'm alone and I should be with someone sharing woo, and neither do any of you. For those of you who are single and fear this day each year with the thought of another night in, alone with a bag of lays and a shitty romantic comedy, STOP.

Call your friends, and if they are all out being gross, find a better movie with no romance what so ever, enjoy the lays, and pat yourself on the back for missing out on an overpriced meal at a restaurant crammed with other people and cheap decorations.

That, and make sure you have lots of wine, and a cat. Stay Single My Friends.

NOTE: If ever in a relationship I truly have not celebrated this "holiday", and every guy I have dated has seemed to appreciate that.

Here He Is

Surviving Solo - A Singles Guide to the Doctor

It's important to know how to be healthy as a singleton. If you suffer from Spintstosis (chronic singledom) like I do, you know that it is indeed important to keep an eye on all areas of health. It's tough to do, because you have not the live in partner required to assist you with certain things. When you get ill, you are aware you are "alone."

When you were little, and you got sick, (if you were lucky like I was) your parent/guardian would immediately call the doctor, make an appointment, drive there, hold your hand and remember your health card, get your medication (and it didn't cost you a thing) then take you home.

When you are single and you wake up not well, it's a battle. If you have to work that day, it's an even bigger task. If for example, you wake up with no voice, how are you going to call in sick? (they will get weirded out if you keep calling and saying nothing, you may end up with police at your door).

If you are shitting yourself silly and are in need of medication or at least ginger ale, you have to risk that ride to the store alone with the constant threat that you may shit your pants (note: should this happen to you, drop everything, and leave the store, do not attempt to complete your mission, ABORT ABORT).

There is also the task of having no one to bring you anything. I complain and moan and the cat just looks at me like I'm insane, No one to at least heat up some freakin cup o soup for you or bring you crackers. I know, boo hoo, people with kids etc. I am not here to complain, I am here to offer my support.

I may be thirty, but today, my retired father drove me to the clinic to the doctor after my mom called in to work for me as I indeed had lost my voice. So the solution to the sick and alone problem: Know your supports. 

It doesn't have to be a parent (although I did laugh when my father sarcastically said "Would you like me to come in with you?" after I got called, actually I may reconsider this choice next time). It can be a friend or co-worker. It's always good to know someone's cell from work so you can text in a case of no voice.

In a case of stomach flu anything, find someone you love, and who loves you no matter what state they see or hear you in. Friends are good for this, bonus if you held their hair back in college while they tossed up two dollar drafts (in the case where this was YOU, then your friend should be use to it by now).

Aside from knowing your supports, prepare for illness in your humble single person dwelling. This means, stock up on goods. Head down to your local shop of the pharmacy available kind, and grab a bunch of stuff. Get it all, I don't care if you don't have herpes now, you might tomorrow. Of course by that I meant, pick up cough/cold/flu medication, halls, pain relief, a stocked first aid kit, ointments (just grab one of each) and don't forget the ginger ale. If you need it, you'll want it flat anyways.

Think outside the box when shopping for these items as well, aka don't forget the duct tape. Also make sure you are specific to your own needs, for example I tend to fall down a lot, so I keep ice packs and tensor bandages in excess amount (that and I always toss in some extra cat food, your welcome cat). 

You may want to consider stocking your freezer with popsicles as well, if you get them in the early fall right between popsicle season and flu season, you almost forget they are stuffed all the way back there behind uneaten leftovers. When you get sick, your brain is hopefully trained from childhood to want them, and you will recall the one's you already have. It's almost like someone else got them for you, classic!

The last and most important thing you can do when single and sick, is rest. The benefit of single kicks in here full force. Since you are alone, no one else is sick, and if no one else is sick you don't have to look after them. If no one else is ill there is no way for you to catch it again once it's ripped through the family.

When your single, you can lay down, toss on the price is right, enjoy some popsicle or ginger ale action and rest easy.

For more information on Spinstosis consult your local library.

Stigmas about Singles

Congrats if you are over thirty and single, you have made it this far! You have not settled for the wrong partner, you've avoided the doom that is sealed when you say "I do" long before know who you are, you are my hero.

I am my hero too I guess. We are a growing breed of individuals, that for whatever reasons we each hold, have chosen to wander through life (even if just at the moment) hans solo. 

I hold nothing against the married populous, good for them. I am just tired of the stigma that I get stuck with because I am thirty, single, and childless. So here is my rant, know that I am not a hateful person, I just like to write and rant.

The assumption for single females, is we are all Bridget Jone's types, wandering around and sleeping with the wrong men, crying alone in our one bedroom apartments while we cuddle with the cat...(ok I HAVE done this, but it's merely because I was sad about something legit and my cat is my companion, and I like it that way) and that we stay out on weekends "hitting the club" (I hit up a hiking club on weekends when the weather is nice, but the last time I did a jello shot and hit the DJ booth was at the last wedding/stag and doe I attended).

The idea that we are romance challenged, and that deep down we harbour some resentment for the people around us who are married and with kids is another stereotype I don't like. Some people, don't want to get married and have kids, so I know those people feel no resentment. For those who at times may look at the life of marrieds and feel some self pity because they are "alone", I am sure it happens the same amount of times a couple feels like they wish they had their own space and time.

I am in no way, full of resentment for these people, especially when it's 2am and the only reason I am up is to beat whatever first person shooter I am dialing on PS3 and not because my spouse is snoring or my baby is crying. I feel the same way about coming home after a long day of work, and tossing my lean cuisine into the microwave because I don't feel like cooking a well balanced meal.

This brings me to that other annoying idea, that we are people who have chosen not to grow up (and no mention of the video games, I know LOTS of marrieds who spend time dialing up this action). I am thirty, and I have had a good lot of life experience (but know I am always learning and growing) and I am a mature adult.

I pay bills, change the oil in my car, buy the groceries, clean the house and take care of any other life thing that requires my attention. I am fully functional, and I do it on my own. I am proud of this factor, so please don't take it away from me that saying I haven't grown up because I haven't "settled down."

There is the thought also, that we are ALONE. I was told one year at my job that I should work Christmas since I had no family like the other workers (I know what she meant was husband plus kids, but she said no family). Did I simply pop out of the sky and fall down here from the heavens? (I would like to think so, but I was born of two people I call my parents). These "parents" of mine are my family, and this family includes a sister, brother in law, a nephew and a list of other relatives I consider close and FAMILY.

It's not that I mind working holidays like this so people with young children can play Santa and all that, but guess what, I like to have a bit of time with my family too, so please remember that I have one.

I am not ALONE outside of family either, I have friends too. I have a special group of friends who are around my age and single as well, not because I am elitist, but because they get it. If I have had a bad day, I don't pout at having no one to talk to when I get home, I call a friend.

These supper amazing single friends I have, will drop what they are doing to make time for me, and I do the same for them. We have an understanding that everyone needs support, and have figured out there is more than one way to have it in your life consistently.

As for them "dropping their stuff" please don't also assume that all singles have this impressive amount of time on their hands, I am not saying I am new mom busy, but we don't have a partner to split responsibilities with, so yes we do mean it when we say we are busy.

To top that off, if there is a task at work that needs to be done and it passes the "end of the day time" at work, I don't get to run out because I have to pick up kids from daycare (know that this IS TOTALLY LEGIT and I am not putting this reason down) I end up having to stay because there is "no one waiting for me." However, sometimes I do have stuff I wanted/needed to do, but it is never good enough reason, so I stay.  I usually then end up coming home to play "find the cat urine" because my cat is unable to express things verbally and gets pissed off when I am late.

Sex, sex sex. According to TV, we have a LOT of crazy sex with all kinds of different people. That is not being single, that is being promiscuous. We do have the option, but in today's world so do married people (there is even a website dedicated to helping people cheat).

The idea that all singles wants and need to be set up, this one drives me nuts.  It's not that we mind you think we are so amazing we need to share that amazing with someone, it's that you assume we are missing something, like we are not happy, and also it's who you tend to pic for us that is offensive.

It usually starts like this for me, "he's perfect for you, around your age, single, no kids (sounds good to start) and he's a great guy. He is kinda _____ (between jobs, unemployed or in school for the third time) and at times struggles with _____ (mental illness, substance abuse problem or ex issues). He is single and looking and I am setting you up! (at time point my facebook or phone number has usually been given out without my permission, and now I have to tell this guy NO THANKS).

Just because you know someone who is single, does not mean they are right for your single friend. Its like assuming you can set up two gay men because their gay. If you meet someone who is nice, not insane, and fits what you think we like, then set up an event where we can meet this person, in our own time.

There is nothing worse that going out with my married friends to find out last minute "so and so" from wherever will be there so look nice. I don't like the pressure, and I don't like the assumption I am even into dating.

Being single for me anyhow, means that there are times I just don't date. I either can't be bothered, am to busy with other things, or just like my life sans dude. 

Some of us CHOOSE this life, so be aware of that. On that note, one final thing, when you see a single person out and about, and you are playing the catch up game, try to ask about something other than if we are seeing anyone etc.

Ask how my job is going, or how my family has been. As anything, in fact asking about the last time I took a good BM offends me less than "seeing anyone yet?" like I have some obligation.

I don't ask you if you're still having sex in your marriage, so don't ask about my dating life, and for GOODNESS sake, when I do let you know, that I am not seeing anyone, don't do that thing.

You know the thing, where you tilt your head, look at us sadly, and say "someday you'll meet that right person." Don't do that, cause it makes it look like you pity me, and quite frankly if I don't, you'll look mighty foolish wont you?

Single Rider - What's that all aboot?

You're at the fair, and all you want to do, is ride that ferris wheel. You wait in line, hands sweaty with excitement, your ticket turns soggy as you slowly move closer to the ride. Who cares that everyone else wanted to go play games, you came for this ride, and you're doing it.

You approach the front, and hand the carnival employee your ticket, hoping into the car, ready to go! That's when, for some reason, the sweaty large shirtless man who just took your ticket yells out...."Single Rider! We got a SINGLE RIDER here!"

What the heck?! Who said you wanted to ride with anyone? You were happy up until this moment, and now you feel shame. To boot, the entire line up of paired individuals is looking at you like you are a sad person who should be pitied or shot. And that's when the man yells it out again.

SINGLE RIDER. It's what I am all about. I have decided to ride life solo so far, and have felt the joy of doing what I want and the sting of being called out, just like at the damn fair. I say, ride that thing, and don't forget to let the ticket guy know, you don't want a passenger, safety rules be damned!