Monday, April 16, 2012

Date with El Cheapo, the dog whisperer

Second man- this one, two dates!

As you can imagine- date number one was successful otherwise date number 2 would not have occurred. But, oh the disappointment! I swear, it was like I went on a date with another person.

The first date happened in a bar- it was very pleasant and relaxed. It ended a little abruptly when he said he had to go as he had to take his dog out. He repeated the fact he was worried his dog would poo in his absence many times. But, I did not think much of it- he was nice, honest and fun. What's a little poo talk during the first date? Not that bad right? I should have known better.

Date number 2 was organized a few days later- the idea being we would go for a walk and I would get to meet his puppy. That's his dog, not his genitals.

So, I travel out to the boonies where he picks me up. The dog was quite excited to meet me which it showed by nipping at my hands- FYI that fucking hurt- but I kept it to myself. She was just excited to meet me right?

So, we go for a walk. But, things are stiff. The conversation that is, not his genitalia. I don't feel particularly comfortable. Things are about to get worse when we start discussing nationalities and race. Now, I am not racist by any definition, in fact I have serious issues with any sort of discrimination. So, when he started to talk about the black slaves in the United States and human rights, I thought I would chip in my two cents on how they were treated. Except, it came out like this: "Oh, but when they arrived they were not considered people. They were slaves-so they had no rights". I thought I was only contributing to the conversation with regards to the horrific treatment of these prisoners....but he thought I was expressing my own opinion on black people. Which resulted in a mortifying 20 min whereby I was trying to convince him I was not a terrible racist.

I got out of that storm...now you would think we could laugh that off- but no. I still think he did not believe me. Anyhow, we change the conversation and start talking about travelling. He is chatting away when all of a sudden he says with a fierce authoritative tone "POOP!" I am shocked for a couple of seconds and then muster the strength to say "I beg your pardon.." His response "No, not you. I am teaching my dog to poop on command". Yes, that's right- you can't make this shit up- and visibly neither could the dog- here I was on a date with the dog whisperer teaching his dog to shit on command. Imagine the power trip he must feel- I felt sorry for the dog.

So- here I am walking around some park, on a date with a guy who thinks I am a racist and who randomly shouts out "POOP", sometimes in mid-sentence (either his or my sentence- that did not seem to bother him).

We finish our walk- and you would think I would be a smart cookie and ask to head home. No- I decide to go for dinner with him. The place is OK- not up to my snobbish standards, but not many places are. He says it is genuine ethnic home cooked food- I seriously doubt it. I still cannot believe the portions served here. Anyways, during dinner we are talking about grocery shopping- he keeps saying that us Europeans are so different in our ways..blah blah blah. He's never been to Europe, so I let him go on about how us Europeans live. And then, he blurts out what any woman most desires to hear: "I am cheap" Why does he say that? Well because I had just said I would prefer to pay a few more dollars for quality instead of quantity. He disagrees...

Needless to say, it was clear that El Cheapo and I were not going to go on that 3rd date. And to his credit, he did send me a nice text the next day telling me he did not feel any chemistry and wished me all the best. I thought that was the sign of a good man who at least had the decency not to lie to me. So, I wish him all the best with his quest to find true love and to make his dog shit on command.

In the meantime, I have deleted his number and look forward to meeting new men and have new adventures.

Bye bye El Cheapo. The search continues....

Date with Von Bismark, the most intelligent man in the world

First date with my first man! How exciting!!!

I get to the place and get a text that he got a table to the left- oh the jitters! Then I see him sitting at the table. He seems nice. I sit down across from him. Order my glass of wine- everyone is all smiles.

So, he is a super intelligent engineer who managed to invent all sorts of cool things during his studies landing him a super important position in a major wireless telecom company. He is very intelligent and he knows it.

He seems nice and I like his smile. It would seem the conversation is flowing nicely. The first sign that things are odd occurs during his explanation of his job. I am following his explanation when all of a sudden he uses the word "correlation" and stops in mid-sentence. He then starts giving me the definition of the word "correlation" before returning to his explanation. I was a bit taken aback by this- he must think I thick or dumb! I decide I am obviously not coming across as the sharpest knife in the drawer, so I engage more in the conversation and also point out my academic achievements. (As you can imagine, my confidence was a little frazzled).

The waiter comes and asks if we want to order food. Von Bismark here orders something I do not hear- and the waiter turns to me. Well- I had not been given a menu and my date had not had the common sense to hand me his, so, I ordered what he was having. After the waiter leaves I ask Von what we were having- turns out it was a pizza with garlic prawns on it (YUCK!) Von B then starts defining the word "prawn" to me!!!!!! "A prawn is the British word for shrimp" he says smuggly. Oh really?! Thank you Einstein- must me my lucky day some fucking genius dains sup in my company. I think he noticed the shocked look on my face- "But, of course you know what a prawn is- you lived in the UK".

The food arrives- really, there are no words to describe how disgusting this thing was. Pizza Hut make better pizza. I ended up picking the PRAWNS off the pizza and ate them. He loved it- even finished mine. He then gets up and excuses himself to go to the bathroom. He returns a few seconds later, picks up his cell phone and goes back to the toilet. I realize two things at that moment: 1) this guy is fucking short- I mean I was taller than him and I am super short 2) I may not have the IQ of a savant, but when a man takes his phone to the toilet with him it is usually to occupy himself while he takes a shit. Or else, he is pretending to go to the toilet to make a call. Either way, I am thinking I want to get out of there.

He returns and then, here we go ladies: brush off sentence number 1: "I need to get back, I have to get up early tomorrow morning"- yeah right!

He pays (very decent of him, although I did propose to split it). As we walk out and are about to part ways he says, here we go ladies: total brush off number 2: "Lets stay in touch". Oh yeah, sure buddy old pal! I've always wanted to be "in touch" with an obnoxious midget. Also, be a man and just say good night.

No- I smiled politely, thanked him for dinner and walked home. On the way I deleted his number and started to get excited at the prospect of meeting someone else.

Bye bye Von Bismark! The search continues. 

New continent, new country, new city, new life and new dates

So I have not posted in a while- in fact this is my first post of the year! Hooray!

I moved to Vancouver, Canada nearly a month ago- a fantastic city which I am quickly falling in love with. On the subject of love- I decided to take matters into my own hands in order to meet men and joined a dating website. You know, one of those paid websites that advertise that they have their super duper highly evolved personality analyzer and that they scientifically match you to members of the opposite sex. Garanteed to find true love!!!  Complete rubbish if you ask me- but I am having fun with it. I get to meet men and I am enjoying it- so why not?

One thing I have learned about Vancouver men, and Vancouverites in general, is their love for the outdoors and exercise- I am not kidding. And who can blame them when you have so much beauty and nature to explore around you. However, judging by some of the men's profiles, it can be a bit extreme. One guy mentioned that if he did not do at least 3 hours of exercise and outdoor sports each day, he feels bad. Wow- imagine if I were to propose a night in or a sneaky sleep-in- he would feel so bad he might be sick!

Another thing I have learned about Vancouver men is that those who have dogs LOVE their dogs. In some of the men's profiles there are a few pics of them hugging their dogs and, in some cases, actual pics of just their dogs. I mean....who puts a pic of their dog on their dating profile?!!!!!! I don't want to date your dog- I want to potentially date you without wondering if I will competing for your affections. ╬ťaybe the men think that the dog pics will make us women swoon and rush to out to date them. Maybe it works with some women. But I just press the delete button.

On the subject of freaky photos on dating profiles: men holding young kids. OK guys- here's the deal. When I see on your DATING profile, pictures of you holding young kids, this is what is going through my head: 1) are those his kids? and 2) if those are not his kids, he wants kids in the not too distant future. Now, I have asked other women what they thought of this- we all agree that some men must think that we all have that maternal instinct and instantly fall in love with men when they show how great they are with kids. Not so- I press delete.

Another stupid faux-pas from men with their profile pics: photos of them hugging/holding other women (who are obviously not their mom). I don't care if that is actually your sister- think about it...you have put a picture of yourself with another woman on a DATING profile that your potential female dates are going to judge you by! I don't want to see you with another woman- I want to be able to picture myself as the woman you might hold some day! I don't understand the logic in this one- so I press delete.

Do I sound picky? Well, I am because I know what I want. I want to meet someone who respects me, likes me and wants to share a life with me. I have found some men that seem interesting and started to engage in online conversation. I have started to go out on dates. Each man I go out on a date with will have a dedicated post. They will remain anonymous and be given nicknames.

Let the fun begin!


Monday, November 28, 2011

Who's afraid of the big bad fart?

I think farts are simply hilarious- they are funny sounds, sometimes stinky smells, almost always a source of embarrasment as well as laughter. They are simple, they are free and they are natural- yet some people cannot come to terms with them: they get angry, flustered and sometimes aggressive (the people that is, not the farts- although farts too can be angry, flustered and sometimes aggressive- hee hee...). I have always found farts funny and I will never grow out of toilet humor...never. Nor do I want to. Best present ever with guaranteed hours of fun? A whopee cushion! People have asked me when I am going to grow out of it. Grow out of it? Why would I want to do that? Let's be honest, what kind of a person gets angry at a fart? Also, what kind of a person ignores a fart? I don't want to be one of them.

The best thing about farts? People's reactions to them: you have those who will do everything in their power to ignore them- even if the sound is deafening, the wind bracing and the smell toxic. Some start swearing under their breath, their angry eyes shooting accusatory glances around them, wildly seeking the culprit. Some are more vocal and express their disgust towards the one who delt it by insulting them. Then, there are people like me- who cannot help but laugh. I try and keep it in (the laughter that is) but then I start to smile. Smiling is the worst thing you can do when in this situation- because all of a sudden, everyone thinks it was you the Farter (which may or may not be true). You know what- it's a fart - get over it. Granted, some farts are worse than others- but still- they go away, they are not permanent.

Bit like life really- it's not permanent, it can be thoroughly unpleasant- in fact, it can downright stink. But, a little humor goes a long way and makes it all bearable. Ok- so not everyone might find them as funny as me- but ask yourself this if you ever catch yourself or witness someone else get mad at a fart- is it really worth it for a bunch of hot air?

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Splashing along in life

How do people meet and fall in love? What is that magical moment that seems to "just happen" when you are not looking for it and that will forever change your life?

From what I gather in the UK you usually meet your true love in a bed (could be yours or his). You wake up  following a booze filled night of which you have almost no recollection, turn your head, look who is lying there and then decide if he's worth pursuing or not. He does the same with you- love blossoms or not.

But, Saturday, I saw the potential start of a beautiful love story in London- I mean Hollywood style. A friend and I were walking along a canal in Hackney. We came to a bridge and started to walk underneath when we noticed a most peculiar scene. An old, drunk angry man was shouting "You're fine! You're not hurt!"  at a woman sat on the edge of the bank with her feet in the water: She was visibly distressed and very wet. Behind her, an Adonis is moving her bike over to the side and ringing out her wet hat and bag. Sherlock Holmes would agree with me: this woman had fallen in the water and was being rescued and comforted- to a certain extent- by an old stinky drunk and a young man.

The woman, drenched and very possibly in shock, still had her red booted feet dangling in the water. But, she was not bothered by that. She started to scream and look up to the sky....hugging her ruined laptop. She tried to shake her laptop to get as much water out...but her efforts were futile. We asked if we could help, were told to fuck off by the old fart, and started to walk away. But, my mind was racing... I could not get over two things:

1) How precious that laptop seemed to her. It was as though she had lost her life, the way she was reacting. In my world, the only reasonable explanation was that she was possibly a writer who had just finished her masterpiece, had not backed up her work and rode her bike furiously to bring it to her editor...only she fell in the water when she swerved to avoid the drunk man, thus losing her precious work. In my world, that makes sense.

2) How gorgeous the young man was. He really was stunning. I actually considered throwing myself in the murky disgusting canal to see if he would save me.

All of this got me thinking: this could actually be that woman's lucky day- that magical moment where she meets her true love...a bit dramatic, I agree, but still a possibility. A knight rescuing his damsel in distress....OH HOW ROMANTIC!!!!!

It has occurred to me though that there could be many other interpretations, and indeed truths, of the scene I saw- but I like mine, it fits nicely and is sweet. I like the idea that something great can come from a truly shitty experience or day. Or perhaps I'm full of shit.

My friend and I continued along towards the market- both of us agreeing that the young man was absolutely one of the fittest real men we had ever seen- One day, I too will meet someone- there will be that moment... I just hope it's not hungover in his sheets. I'm not sure how I could tell that story to my future children and grandchildren. :)


Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Boggie and Me

This is my story of Boggie. A man who, without any shame or second thoughts, picked his nose in front of me on the London Tube. That was pretty gross- but then he actually ate his booger. He seemed to be fully enjoying his morning treat, completely oblivious to the fact that I was struggling with nausea and dangerous mounting levels of bile. I mean, who does that, especially in public? My first thought: Only men would do that. A woman would never do that- certainly not a single one- and get away with it. Is that an unfair assumption? I certainly believe that as women, we are expected to act more daintily and dignified and that men can get away with more daring behavior.

For instance, when you have a terribly itchy boob...you can't just scratch it if you are in public. NNNOOO!!!! That would be disastrous...imagine touching your own boob and scratching it...why it's practically masturbating in public! So, what do we do? We start shifting, crossing our arms, desperately trying  to find a way to relieve the itch without anyone noticing. Filled with embarassment, discomfort we struggle with the urge to just give in and scratch.... It's a boob for God's sake! Part of our bodies, of who we are... I actually envy men for their nonchalance towards public embarassment. They don't think twice- they don't care who is watching- all they care about is their comfort. So, when that ball sack starts to itch, they don't hesitate once to just grab it a give it a satisfying scratch.

But, back to my dear Boggie- there are standards of hygiene and social behavior which I believe everyone should respect- man or woman- and picking your nose and eating your bogie in public is totally out of bounds. Anyways, there is always a silver lining: Boggie could have rolled his booger between his fingers into a firm snot ball and then inadvertently flicked it in my face. I guess in the end, he did keep it to himself. 

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Yearning for that Gene Kelly moment

Remember the guy I asked out last Friday? Well, it's not going to happen. Although not surprised, I was seriously bummed about that today. So, I decided I was going to treat myself to a date with myself tonight. Just so happens that the BFI (British Film Institute) is screening MGM musicals over the next couple of months- possibly my favorite films of all time. Tonight's screening was "An American in Paris". I told my boss I needed some one on one time with Gene Kelly and she let me leave an hour early....OH the thrill and excitement!!!!! I had never watched an MGM musical on the big screen...serious treat! And it begins....

I love Gene Kelly- a truly talented dancer and entertainer. He makes me feel great. As I was watching him fall in love with Leslie Caron, I thought: what a lucky girl.... Thanks to the score and lyrics of the Gershwin brothers, this is what Jerry Mulligan (Kelly) serenades Lise (Caron) with on their FIRST date: "Our love is here to stay, Together we're going a long, long way". Yes, I am a sap and I do dream that one day a man will whisper beautiful words to me. It would be a refreshing change from "yeah, I'd shag you"or that ultimate classic "you seem nice...but is your friend available?"

Who hasn't dreamed of living a Gene Kelly moment? Who hasn't dreamed of being the cause of someone else's Gene Kelly moment? You know, where a man is so excited, enthralled and deeply in love with you that the only way he can express himself is by uncontrollably breaking into song and dance. MGM had it right, they had the formula with their uplifting and thrilling musicals....the formula for pure joy. DAMN YOU MGM!!!! Thanks to you my perception of love and romance is totally unrealistic and askew. In these movies true love always happens with one look. Then the man is so taken by the woman- he chases her, harasses her because he knows he cannot live a moment longer of his life without her...They sing, they dance...that's love right?

The later years would be something to see- them in their 70's swinging with their zimmerframes, risking a hip replacement or even a change of underwear when doing a pirouette (yes, that film would be called "Skidding in the Rain"). But back to romance...

I would love for a man to react as Gene Kelly does just because of the way he feels about me. I would also love to react like Gene Kelly because of a man. It's crazy, insane and completely unrealistic....I KNOW! But still, deep inside I think we all hope to feel such emotions that a rainy street suddenly becomes a stage for expressing yourself with delight. I have never been in love- but I imagine that when I do fall in love that I will break out into song and dance...even if it is only in my head. Tonight, I walked out of the movie theatre filled with joy and hope...alone. And I felt great. Thank you MGM, thank you Gene Kelly, Leslie Caron....I look forward to more dates with Kelly, Sinatra and many more. I also look forward to falling in love one day.