Let's talk about danks

If I had a dollar for every boy who ever asked me to tell him what I really thought of his penis...

Ladies, I have discovered THE PERFECT THING TO SAY.

you don't want to lie to them and tell them they have the biggest dick you've ever seen (unless it is!)

and Jesus, please do not say "Oh it's just right!" (even if it is!)

Let's talk about the V/M ratio

The vagina/mouth ratio

The Perfect Penis makes your vag feel good, but also fits in your mouth

"Why should  the Perfect Penis fit in my mouth?" you ask? Seriously, if you're asking, stop reading this blog now, Prude.

So ladies, next time a dude asks you what you think of his dick

(I mean, provided you want to make him feel good about his junk)

Mention the V/M ratio. Tell him that its great because it makes your cootch feel good, and allows you to give great head too.

Conversations with Zaza re: heartache and lols

Coco:

like I feel desperate for 10 minutes

and then it slips my mind for 2

and then I don't feel immediate about it

until another 10 minute episode occurs

during a tegan and sarah song

omg

ok

this is lol

I put on my "angry girl music" playlist (which I call "BitchTits").

It's like, metric, tegan and sarah, martha wainwright.

Tegan and Sarah's "don't confess this thing that breaks my heart" comes on

and there are these two chipmunks chasing eachother.

I was like "ughghghg and WAHHH and ugugugh fucking couples!

And i wish i was the girl squirrel/chipmuunk."

Zasa:

haha

omg

Coco

WE ARE SO PATHETIC

Oh my God, you GUYS!

Be Still, My Heart.

An email I received this week: 

M.Sc in medical sciences, I think you should change that to Genocide Science cause you know full well what the ingreedience are in the medications, so much poisoning and Government funded GMO toxic foods, that kill kids and millions of others, odd no cures in 60 years, but hey well come to the real world, PS I love a woman with a real brain, maybe then I could trigger some thing inside your beautiful mind to help you to get the real cure, cause I have the prinicalbe idea I just need some one with a real brain to figure out the details, plus your cute - a somewhat attractive (in a Lex Luther kind of way), but short man - with the most terrifying profile ever (ie, lots of caps, a link to this as "THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SONG THAT SHALL INSPIRE YOU ALL", and he's a DAD. --------------- Dear Men of the Internet, Don't insult Science! it is clearly somehow my profession! And its listed as one of my Interests! lol. What is wrong with you? How is this a "good strategy" to wooing me?! - Coco

Mr. A

Back when I was thinking about making a profile, a friend told me that the best method for online dating was to ignore all of the messages from dudes that initiate conversations. I was told that I should focus in on the profiles I found most interesting, and then send an email to those boys, and those boys only.

I obviously did not heed this advice at all.

Now, a few months in, a few dates in, but ultimately still nowhere in terms of finding anyone that I have any real connection with – I decided that it was mafukkin time to put my big girl pants on. It was time to BE THE INITIATOR!

I knew exactly which boy I wanted to email, but I was nervous. I practiced on some other profiles that were sort of interesting first, building up my nerve.

For lack of a better term, I’ve been profile stalking Mr. Adventures for several months. Before I uploaded pictures and made a real profile, I noticed his. He seemed perfect: a mix of tall, dark, and sexy-ugly. There was even a picture with a beautiful and rugged beard. I instantly had a boner for him.

Then, just before I put up pictures, he took down all of his photos. His profile was still there, but I figured that zero pictures = not currently looking.

I waited…

I didn’t really mind, to be honest. I hoped that his majestic bearded mug would return eventually, but I in the meantime I had no shortage of potential suitors to comb through.

Recently he uploaded photos again (not the bearded one! Womp Womp), and I resumed admiring his profile regularly.

One day, after reading a blog about being PIMPIN’ and taking charge of your life, I experienced a surge of confidence and fearlessness that provoked me to send Mr. Adventures an email.

Muffy once described his profile as: POW POW POW EVERTHING ANYTHING POW!!! I wasn’t sure what the hell to write in the email. He mentioned his love of adventures several times in his profile, so I asked him to regale me with his favorite Winnipeg adventure story. I figured that we could exchange stories and then I could suggest exchanging more stories over coffee.

Much to my delight, that is exactly what happened! Here is harshly summarized synopsis:

Coco: Tell me an adventure story!

Mr. A: AN ADVENTURE STORY! Imma hint at another story too. Your turn!

Coco:  AN ADVENTURE STORY! TELL ME THE OTHER STORY!

Mr. A: THE OTHER STORY! (it was super long and hilarious)

Coco: OMG THAT WAS AMAZING. Imma tell you more stories over coffee?

Mr. A: okay!
Coco: HERE IS MY PHONE NUMBER

Mr. A: HERE IS MINE

We planned to meet on Thursday after Folk Festival.

I was really nervous. Like, super fucking nervous. I had somehow gotten this man, who I had lusted over for months, to go on a date with me. AND SO QUICKLY! I avoided my previous method of having a phone conversation pre-date.

On Thursday we met at a coffee place. He texted me about an hour before to make sure we were still on. I appreciated that since I had been the INTIATOR the whole time. It was nice to know he might be even a tinge worried I’d bail. I told him to get his drink to go b/c we were going to go for a walk. He was early and sitting outside when I arrived.

He was wearing sunglasses and a straw fedora hat. I couldn’t really see his face for the first half of the date, and I worried that he was an ugly-ugly. We walked to a water fountain on Corydon and chatted. The conversation flowed pretty smoothly, although he went on mega tangents that were sometimes hard to follow.

Through a combination of a poor choice of hairstyle (bangs fully down), nervousness, and the heat wave, I soon became a disgusting sweaty mess. I was sure that I was bombing the date and that he was super grossed out by me. I was wearing a low cut top and I hoped that maybe my boobs were distracting him. I still wasn’t sure if I should care or not, since I was on the fence regarding whether or not he was an ugly-ugly or not.

We made it back to where we started and I freshened up in the restroom of a café. Then I suggested that we go to the park to check out the spinny chairs. He was game.

In the park, he twirled on the chairs for an amount of time that would have made me throw up. He loved it! When he calmed down, he asked me if I had plans for the rest of the night. I said I didn’t. Then he asked me if I had eaten dinner. I said that I hadn’t (I had been too nervous!!!). Then, much to my surprise, he asked me if I wanted to grab a bite.

I was delighted, but still unsure what he really looked like.

We headed to a local pub. We sat down and he went to the restroom. On his way back he sneakily bought me a beer that he had mentioned he thought I’d like on the walk. When he got to the table I suggested we move so that he could watch the game. We were both wracking up mega brownie points.

At last he removed his shades and hat. SEXY-UGLY FO-SHO! We shared nachos (he ate all the cheese!), told each other stories, and laughed and smiled a whole bunch. It felt easy and simple. It felt like one of those first dates that happens to girls you know, but never to you. It was textbook. And when the noisy nature of the bar forced me to lean in closer, I was pleased when I caught him occasionally and sneakily looking down my shirt.

I offered to go Dutch for the nachos, which I’ve since been told was very cool of me. We paid and left the pub and I veered us towards my apartment. Near my place he asked, “Am I walking you home?” and I said, “Yes, I tricked you into it.”

In front of my building I told him I had a fun night and that I’d like to see him again. He said that he’d like to see me again too, and then asked how long I’d be away for. He mentioned that he didn’t have his schedule for the next month and didn’t know when he’d be free, but then I think he realized it might have sounded like a brush off and told me that I should text him.

I was going to go in for the handshake, but before I could, he stepped towards me, said “oh, you’re going in for the hug!”, and hugged me. I wrapped my arms around him and breathed in his chest. Wonderful. And then we said goodnight.

Although it was a very nice date, I am not exactly all-a-flutter about it. Was the conversation really fun and easy? Yes. Was there chemistry? I’m not sure. At the end, I didn’t want him to kiss me, but I did like the hug.

I worry that he's secretly a big loser. 

A week later, while I was out of town, I texted him about something boring just to stay in touch, and because he had been all “text me!”. His responses weren’t revolutionary by any means, but he responded – so that’s something.

We are going out again on Monday to Folklorama. I hope he has grown a luscious beard in my absence. 

play structures, moonlight, and the No! feeling

I wasn’t super keen on meeting Scarf. Maybe this was because I was distracted by other dudes, maybe it was because a friend told me he had “woman beater” eyes, or maybe it was because he said he’d met over 100 girls from the internet, some of them who have since been featured on thedirty.com – It is really hard to say what factor prevailed in giving me the No! feeling about him.

We shared a few emails, phone calls, and texts. Not a lot, just enough to keep in touch. The conversations were polite, mostly boring, and I felt a false enthusiasm from him. He was a mumbler, and it annoyed the shit out of me.

We made plans and I bailed out a few hours before. I knew that I would be away a lot in June, so I asked him if we could put a pin in things – if I could contact him when I was back in town. He said sure and didn’t complain. I appreciated that. Mostly because, in the meantime I was trying to make a date with RC.

Unimpressed with RC, and invigorated by my discovery that a dude I barely know can make my knees shake, I arrived back in Winnipeg with a fresh perspective and a willingness to meet Scarf.

  

We met one evening outside of a coffee shop nearby. He was tall (!), burly (!), and rocking some serious stubble (!). He was sexy-ugly through and through (!).

We walked first to a park near my place, played on the swings and chatted. Then we walked to another park and played on those swings too.

I have no doubt in my mind that he was once a force to be reckoned with. There was a practiced smoothness to his charm and a deliberate patience with the formalities of a first date. There were also signs of wear and tear, a break down of his playa-ness: He hurt his arm doing a chin up on the swing set, he accidentally bonked himself in the nuts with the teeter totter, and he was generally quite clumsy. It was his saving grace – I found it endearing, and an easy target to make fun of. We spent the evening mocking each other playfully.

I walked him to his car, and we shook hands. I said I had a nice time, he said we should do it again. Then we argued over who would call who.

It was a “good” first date – but I was still getting the NO! feeling about him.

I was away for the weekend, and he texted me on Tuesday so see if I wanted to meet at the coffee shop again on Wednesday. Normally I don’t like to seem that available, but I had a date already planned for Thursday night with Mr. Adventures, plans on Friday with friends, and would be away for the rest of the month.

The last time I’d been on a second date, Nicole Kidman masturbated at length on screen and Jack Black checked out his ball-sack in a mirror. It was minus 30 and we were both wearing parkas. I googled “second date”. I don’t recommend doing this.

We met at the coffee shop again, got drinks this time (he didn’t pay!) and then hopped in his car and went for a drive. The conversation was easy and enjoyable. At some point he decided that we were going to go on a tour of schools he’s attended.

At the first school, we played on the play-structure and warmed up to each other again.

At the second school, we played in the skate park area and then sat down for a while and talked. The bugs were bad so I sprayed us with repellent. He told me things like that he was a really shy person. I figured that was him trying to be ‘vulnerable’ in front of me, which is a classic playa-move. But I also worried that maybe he was being genuine. I was still getting the NO! feeling about him – not enough NO! to convince me I shouldn’t see how things played out, but also enough that I knew it could never be a real thang.

We climbed to the highest point of the skate park. It was dark, and the moon was mostly full. The air felt wonderful. I told him that anyone who has ever said they hated this town should spend a few minutes outside on a clear summer night. He spun me around twice and on the second spin he pulled me to him and kissed me.

We kissed a little more. He ran his fingers through my hair, kissed my neck, and moved to my ear. Then he choked and died on a combination of earring and bug repellent. I told him I was wearing boy repellent. On the way to the car he extended his hand for me to hold. I liked that very much.  

At the third school play yard we climbed the structure and kissed more in the moonlight. He tried copping a boob feel, and I brushed his hand away. He laughed, and didn’t try again. I appreciated that.

He stood under the monkey bars with his arms extended up. I approached him, placed the back of my hand against his chest. He asked what I wanted. I said that I wanted some sugar. Women around the world rolled their eyes.

On the way to the car he discovered he was allowed to grab my ass and I got a sneak peak of the manhandling I’m in store for. Excellent.

We started to drive out of the parking lot and he stopped the car suddenly and turned to me. Jesus, what now!

He told me that he wanted to be up front with me about something. I feared the worst (He’s a father? He’s religious? He’s married? Gonoherposyph?). Then he told me that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, and mentioned something about ex-gf drams. I breathed a sigh of relief and told him I didn’t want anything serious either, that it was summer and that summer was a time for fun, and that I was seeing other people.

We made a pact that we wouldn’t be douchy to each other. Perfect. I told him not to text me a lot.

He parked in front of my building. I touched his arm, kissed him briefly and grinned. I told him I’d call him when I was back in town.

He texted me a few days later, while I was on the road, to wish me well on my trip. It was a totally unnecessary, but nice check in.

I’m now back in town, and I feel SO HESITANT about contacting him! On one hand, I could really go for a non-douchy fling, but on the other hand, is it worth it? If I’m going to be seeing someone on the regular, I’d like to at least have the option of liking them fo-realsies – something that is impossible with him due to a combination of prevailing NO! feelings and his emotional unavailability. What is a girl to do!?

Prairie Firrrrre

Regina Guy first contacted me about a month and a half  ago. It is pretty common for out-of-town dudes to try to lure women to their hotel room (gross!). When he IM’d me and mentioned that he was just here for work, I rolled my eyes and waited for the inevitable. I was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t invite me over. I was more surprised when we had a totally nice conversation and he wasn’t inappropriate.

I mentioned that I would be in Regina towards the end of June for school. He sent me this email:

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Future You,

Text Regina Guy at (555)-444-2222 when you are in Regina at the end of June so that he will know whether POF time travel texting is possible and also so that you and him can potentially hang out and repopulate the Earth (assuming mankind has dwindled to the brink of extinction within the next 20-25 days).

He may not remember who you are, so you will have to remind him.

Do this or all shall be lost!!!!

- Regina Guy - (on May 30, 2011)

--------------------------------------------------------------------

When I arrived in Regina, I considered contacting him, but decided against it. I wanted to see what kind of men were in the class with me first (spoiler alert: there was a profound lack of men).

He emailed me a few hours later with a “Are you in Regina now?”. So much for “he may not remember who you are”, I thought!

We met a few days later near where I was staying. We planned to meet by the gym doors. I, of course, went to the wrong doors. I sat on a bench and waited impatiently for him to come around to where I was. There were long hallways on either side of me and I tried to not stare down them to avoid eye contact at an awkward distance.

He was attractive, average height, blonde, and dressed well (he came straight from work). We said hi, shook hands, and I nearly had a stroke when his first few words sounded super femme. It must have been a trick of the ear, because it didn’t happen again.

I am still really not sure what his job is, but I do remember that he said it involves a lot of schmoozing. A professional schmoozer!

We walked around the school twice, sliding on the slippery tiles with our shoes and  chatting comfortably with lots of smiles and laughter.

At one point he deposited a $10 cheque into a bank machine and made a big deal about it.

On the first lap, we journeyed past an area with lots of semi-private seating, and I thought I heard him say “this would be a really good spot to make out”, but I decided that surely he must not have said that. Another trick of the ear, I thought. False! From that point forward, he casually slipped the topic of kissing into the conversation. He was schmoozing me!

We walked past a very dark entryway that clearly led into a big dark empty theatre room. A perfect place to make out! He asked if I wanted to check it out, and I said no and veered us away.

“I think you’ll regret that you didn’t make out with me in that room,” he said, after we’d walked for a bit more. “You might be right,” I said, “but remember, I can travel through time, so I can always come back a week from now and make out with you then.” He asked me what would happen if I ran into myself during this time travel and I said that I would likely make out with her instead. He laughed and remarked “Pfft, I’ll just make out with you both!” He was clearly very proud of himself for coming up with that.

While still on the first lap, he nonchalantly proposed marriage to me. Something along the lines of “while you’re in Regina, we could get married”. I said I liked his sincerity and that I’d think about it. He said he’d like to know by Tuesday.

At the end of the first lap we sat near the glass-walled gym and experienced our first awkward silence, which he broke by commenting on the large exercise balls. I noted that there were a lot of blue ones. Some random girl sat near us, and we decided to go for a second lap.

We were standing in a hallway and could see the dark empty theatre in the distance. He suggested we walk towards it. I was non-committal to his kissing suggestions, but as we approached the dark entryway I made a decision: I was going to make out with this dude in the dark theatre

Because, WHY THE HELL NOT!?

We stood in the entry of the door, both knowing what was about to go down. He took a few steps into the theatre and it was immediately illuminated.

Thwarted by the enemy that is automatic lights, we exited out of a side door and found ourselves in a short hallway that lead back to the main part of the school. There were sharp gradients of light in the hallway and he stepped into a slightly dark area. I followed and said it was still too bright. He stepped into the darkest area. I followed and pressed my back to the wall.

He approached me slowly, patiently stepping closer.  He smelled really good, something subtle and manly. His lips pressed gently against mine as his hand slid into my cardigan and stroked my side. I was feeling flustered and hot – he was doing everything right. He stepped closer, pressing his body against mine deliberately, while continuing to slowly kiss and touch me. He dropped his newspapers. My knees shook.

It was awesome.

I remembered that we were in a hallway and that we could be caught at any second. I broke free and went for the door. He picked up his newspapers and followed. We were giggling like children.

Who was this guy!? He had just schmoozed me into a dark hallway, kissed me briefly (it was less than 3 minutes, I swear!), and I was feeling like a hot mess. My glasses were fogged up and I was tingling. Jesus.

He made Race Cars seem like such an amateur. It was a welcomed dose of perspective. 

We walked a bit more. He teased me about running away and mentioned that he had to get back to the parking meter. There was an underpass that we went through that had a dark hallway with vines hanging. PERFECT! We found a cozy corner near a door (that lead to an area he said looked like a biohazard), and kissed a little more. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He tried copping a feel and I swatted his hand with my water bottle.

I thought I heard someone approaching so I fled again. He made fun of me again.

We had an awkward goodbye and shook hands. We parted ways.

I was still in town for a few more days, and he tried convincing me to come over. I refused. There were several really good reasons not to see him, and when those reasons seemed like lame reasons, he was away.  

Since I have arrived back in Winnipeg, we have texted occasionally. I have outright refused to make any effort to visit him (I am poor and don’t have a car!).  A few weeks ago he told me that maybe he could visit and that he has a few days off in July. By some cruel twist of fate, I am busy whenever he’s available.

The notion that this dude wants to visit me is bizarre and frightening. Like, sure, he was an amazing kisser for 5 minutes once when we spent an hour together. Is that really enough to justify a trip? We don’t know each other at all!

I just got a text from him as I was writing this: “I’d like to see you again, just fyi”

For the sake of research: The Un-Godly hours of the night First Date

After many emails back and forth, several long phone calls, and uncountable texts, I finally met Race Cars.

The more I “got to know” RC, the more I liked him. He was silly, ridiculous, and cute, and seemed to dig me. Also, once I accidentally was at his place of employment and saw him. Tall! Cute!

Plans would never work out. I’d be too busy, he’d be too busy. He bailed on plans twice, but reassured me that he was interested. He seemed to always only be available at ungodly hours of the night on the weekends.

I knew that I would be away a lot, and I didn’t want to wait until the end of June to meet him. I decided to propose something ridiculous.

Was it a trap? Was he really always busy? Was 3:30am really the only time he was free? These are questions better left for scholars to answer.

I suggested that we meet at an ungodly hour of the night, that we’d go somewhere and hangout in a lame and chaste way. He asked if we could make out. I said sure, as long as we both wanted to.

He picked me up outside my building. I was nervous, he was nervous. There was very little eye contact, but that’s probably best since he was driving. We chatted a bit, talking about our day. Upon reflection, it was mostly me stammering nervously as I admired the thickness of his arms and hands as he gripped the steering wheel.

We drove around for ten, maybe fifteen minutes. I asked him where we were going, and he said “There’s this place I want to show you. It’s like Harry Potter. It’s like Ravencourt.”

The city disappeared, and we ended up on a dark winding road flanked by tall arching trees. It was raining lightly and the clouds blocked out the moonlight. “There are a lot of trees,” I said. “Yup,” he answered. “Oh, it’s just like the country,” I stammered nervously, panic starting to swell in my throat. “Yup, isn’t it great?” he answered. He stopped the car and backed into a hidden approach. He turned the car off, and then scrambled to turn off the clock light.

I asked him if he was going to murder me. He said that he was, and asked if that was inconvenient, if I had a lot to do the next day.  This was followed by several minutes of very awkward conversation, with him trying to ask me if I wanted to make out and me desperately rambling about anything not relating to making out while tugging my dress closer to my knees. This wasn’t because I didn’t want to make out. Make no mistake, I wanted him badly.

Frustrated, he asked “Should I drive you home?” and I said “No… I want to be here.” We turned to each other, made eye contact. I continued, “I’m just shy and you make me nervous.”

“Well, then,” he said, “I guess I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands.” He pushed the button on his seat belt and it whooshed over his body and clinked into place loudly. “I guess I will prepare, too,” I said as I undid my own belt and placed my purse on the floor.  We turned to each other once again.

He lunged at me then, chuckling to himself, kissing me like it was a race, and grabbing at me greedily.

I was on the defense, pushing his hands away from my bra, trying to slide them towards my knees when he tried reaching further. I kissed him once for every three times he kissed me. We clearly had different make-out agendas. I wanted a patient stallion, but I was getting more of a wild bronco. Luckily, it wasn’t my first rodeo. I think that he thought he was passionately seducing me - it was like he learned what he knew from a bad porno.

We moved to the backseat, and made out for a while. It wasn’t particularly good, but it was fun and not totally bad. It was the back seat of a car that didn’t have automatic windows, pitch black outside, raining, and in the forest.  I was caught up in the moment! It felt like how high school should have been.

When the sun started to rise he suddenly decided that he had to leave (he said he worked at 8am. It was 5:30) and drove me home. 

When I got home I realized that the casualties of the tryst were my dignity and an earring. 

From the same guy that sent Muffy that ridiculous message the other day:

"So I messaged you just to chat but I'm kind of concerned. I mean, we could hit it off really well, end up having a few drinks, next thing you know you're giving me your number because I'm too shy to ask for it, I finally get up the nerve to call and we take in a movie, have some dinner, I relax, you relax, we go out a few more times, get to know each other's friends, spend a lot of time together, then finally get past this sexual tension and really develop this intense sex life that is truly incredible, decide our relationship is solid and stable, so we move in together for a while, then a few months later get married, I get a promotion, you get a promotion, we buy a bigger house. You really want kids, but I really want freedom, but we have a kid anyway, only to find that I am resentful, the sparks start to fade and to rekindle them we have two more lovely kids, but now I work too much to keep up with the bills, have no time for you, you're stressed and stop taking really good care of yourself, so to get past our slow sex life and my declining self-confidence I turn to an outside affair for sexual gratification. You find out because I'm careless and a lousy liar, you throw me out (justifiably so) and we have to explain to the kids why mommy and daddy are splitting up. That's just too sad. Think about the children. For God's sake, if you chat with me and we hit it off, let's just keep it sexual, because we both know where it's going."

foreshadowing!!

Regarding the successes and failures of my online dating escapades:

"It was like you stepped out that car and right into that hallway" - Muffy

full stories soon! 

One Great City

Earlier today on fb messenger:

Coco:
Race Cars texted me "BONER CITY" last night at 11:30

Muffy:
AHAHAHA

Coco:
i was already asleep.
so this morning I texted him "is the city big?"
and he said "its huge... and very sloppy"

Muffy:
eww
also, lolz

Coco:
I lold
and also eww'd
haha
and texted back "oh my goodness"

LATER THAT DAY, via text message

Coco:
I asked RC if the journey to boner city is very long and hard

Muffy:
I dream about boner city

Coco:
I would like to have a conversation with the head of this city Haha

Muffy:
Up close and personal. I'm sure he would stand erect in your honour.

Coco:
He'd probably be stiff at first
But I am sure I could get the ball rolling eventually
And I would also hope that he wouldn't be totally nuts

Muffy:
You win, I am pulling a blank!

Coco: pulling a blank omg you win

Muffy:
Ohhh Coco

Coco:
Oh Muffy.



        

Voldemort

 We’ve all got a Voldemorte or two in our lives. That guy that you’re just kind of powerless around because they’ve been privy to some side of you that you don’t let out anymore, or a part of you that really only existed with them, or you met before you should have and things are totally fucked up now. Or something! Or all of the above. Whatever!

Voldemorte v2.0 and I have a history of meeting each other out on the edge, and turning around. We’re both guilty of being total assholes. We are never on the same page, and for a long time we weren’t in the same book. However, much to my chagrin, we have too many mutual friends to completely drop it and avoid each other forever. Recently, we’ve “resolved” things – which mostly involved difficult apologies from both sides and agreeing to try not to be so fucking weird around each other.  

I’m feeling very The Suburbs (continued) about him right now, but that’s probably the running-into-him-recently-and-it-finally-not-being-totally-weird coming out. 

The obvious solution to deal with this confusion is to date several men from the internet. 

jumping IN

I am meeting a dude for coffee tomorrow. A dude from the INTERNET. Tomorrow I shall be losing my "meeting men from the internet" virginity*.

Dimples** and I have been emailing back and forth for about a month. He originally messaged me on Okcupid (with my skeleton pictureless profile) because my username was the title of one of his favourite songs, and he just "had to".

Dimples is a frustrating mix of characteristics that I like a lot (dimples, deep voice***, beard, plastic framed glasses) and characteristics that I am far less pleased about (short!, balding?, 28, what do them teeth look like?).  That being said, I once thought that really tall men were the bees fucking knees, until I realized that a huge difference in height gets complicated in the sack. And, I am wildly attracted to a balding man from work. And, I would totally be fine with dating someone older than that. SO WHAT GIVES!?

wish me luck, ladies.

ALSO: A few months ago I decided that in May I would give internet dating a real try. So, today I uploaded pictures.  I feel like a freak! BUT ALSO, I can't help but wonder...

* I may have played some "just the tip" re: meeting men this way a few years ago, but that's a story for another day.
**not his real name
*** like REALLY DEEP. It was like there were R's rolling in words that didn't even have R's!

Missing Mojo

Have you seen my mojo? I certainly haven’t lately.

There are several unmistakable “it’s time to get back on the horse” signs that I have encountered within the last few months:

1.       . Lets just say it's been a while and leave it at that. A very easy date to remember considering it falls on a friend’s birthday and facebook never fails to remind me.
2.       My condoms are starting to expire!
3.       I told my married religious friend about point 1, expecting her to be the ONE person who would maybe support my accidental celibate lifestyle, and instead of telling me that I should feel good and proud about it, she said something like, “Oh…. Considering that you’ve had sex before and know how good it is… that must be rough.” Thanks a lot!

Was I always this way? No! Fuck no! How did I get here?

Undergrad was a veritable smorgasbord of cute boys and firsts. First dates, first for-real make-out sessions, first boyfriend, first time a boy made me cum, first serious boyfriend, first bj, first love, first TIME, first heartbreak, etc!  My journal from the first three years of school reads like a racy rom-com about someone else’s life.

My journal from the last three years reads like a sad book you might find with the cover ripped off at a dr.s’ office. WHY GOD WHY!

What the hell happened?  Do I just not know where the boys are at? It might have been that I was stuck on someone, but recently I feel very unstuck (thank you baby J for that small miracle). It may have been that I was in a “focus on my future/career” state, but that’s going well and now its time to have some fun, I think! Time to go on dates and kiss boys that I shouldn’t and probably reconsider my aversion to casual sex.

           

Truthfully, I have an idea of where the boys are at. I see them sometimes, being all sexy, bearded, broad shouldered, smart, and funny around town. However, I’ve totally lost my mojo. I’m in some kind of shitty ‘afraid of men’ nightmare comedy starring my second virginity and some nearly expired condoms.

What is a lady to do in this situation? Meet men on the internet, of course! Stay tuned.