This Guy's... Got It?

Wise Words from the Kitchen #1

"If you're too drunk to hook up, just smoke some pot and drink a lot of water. At least then you're having high, hydrated sex and not pruney, dehydrated sex."

Breaking Up, Starting Over, and Fishing.

Hello internet!

A lot has happened since my last post, whenever that was. The aforementioned long distance lover and I called it quits and I experienced my first real, gut-wrenching, sit-in-bed-sobbing heart break. I cancelled the flights I had booked out to see him (and even worse, I didn't get to see Houston!) and I sat and thought about what in the world I was going to do next, and about how stupid I felt. It sucked.

For all of a week.

My quick and much-needed rebound came in the form of a crazy ex-lover in from Vancouver to visit family for the week. The timing was perfect. I inboxed him with my current phone number, and he met me (and Zaza, Muffy, etc) for wine - we shared a litre, I put my hand on his thigh, he said "Yep." and that was that. He spent the remaining nights of his trip at my place, and I noticed that he'd picked up some... interesting sexual habits in the 5 years since we'd last been together, although that is another story entirely. He went back to Vancouver a few days later, and that was perfect too because truth be told, I was already sick of him.

Following my little rendezvous with Mission: NSA ex-sex I felt renewed - a new woman entirely. I bought a new skincare routine, I got my hair did, I felt fantastic. My roommate and I were both single at the same time for the first time in the 3 years that we've known each other. Life was going to be good - and it was. She and I, along with Zaza had decided to become really "fun" and start going to popular clubs in the City instead of our usual hipster dive hang-outs; attention-grabbing tight dresses, heels, the whole shebang. It felt amazing.

Now, the only issue with it is that I went through a bit of a dry period. When I say a bit, I mean 2 months now. That's a long time for me. I realized that it had been an awful drought last weekend, when I (drunkenly) gave my number to an exchange student who just wouldn't leave me alone at the bar last Friday. Sunday evening, looking back on Muffy's luck with online man-hunting, I started a POF.com account with the following profile:

"Headline: Acqua di Gio Need Not Apply. 

About me: I like fine wines, partying, and stomping on egos. I love Nicolas Cage movies, and I hate people that are too pretentious to admit that they watch them. Goal in life: professional sword swallower. 

If you want a serious reply, please message me with the name of the last cologne you purchased.

 ...JK! I don't like any of those things, and I really don't aspire to be a professional sword swallower - amateur at best. Well, alright, I do like fine wines, Face//Off IS a pinnacle of cinema, and clearly I think I'm funny. I'm pretty low-key, but I take care of myself, I dress well, and I like to get dolled up. I am kind of a jerk, but only in the most charming sense, I assure you. Actual interests include old movies, contemporary art, fragrances, and the Oxford comma. 

First Date: Ideally it wouldn't end with either of us slapping each other in the face and then storming off. 

 ...Or maybe it would?"

Not expecting anything to actually come of this, I was (hilariously) in awe when literally within minutes I had received 10 different responses. Were any of them worthwhile? Not terribly. By the next day, however, I had received nearly 500 views (POF.com emailed me to tell me this) and had received 100+ responses, some who got the joke, and some who really didn't. To my dismay, not one person made a comment about sword swallowing - I really thought that would be the winner.

So far, the best stupid responses I've received are the following:

"hahaha. I wont slap u on your face. u look good. hw was your weekend" 

The extremely romantic:

"wow ur just damn cute :) Shakespare said" there is nothing more beautifull than moon" but I said u proved him wrong. so whats new going on in ur life" 

And of course, the classic:

"Hi what's up? We should fuck ?" 

Essentially, it was a bleak and terrifying wasteland of bizarre people I never saw on the street.

However, Monday night, after sharing a few litres of Sangria with Muffy and Zaza, I decided to sift through the masses and see if there was anyone worth contacting myself. After I sent a message making fun of a guy with a cat on his shoulder for pandering to the reddit crowd and naming his dog after an Arcade Fire song, and a few witty back and forths, he asked if we could move to facebook, I thought that sounded harmless enough, so I added him and we spent an hour chatting. He then asked if I'd be interested in getting coffee, I said sure, and we ended up settling on 7pm the next night.

Tuesday night we met up at a popular local coffee bar, he ended up being more attractive than I thought he was going to be and he had a firm handshake - a good start. We talked and finished our coffee, he suggested a walk. We walked for a few blocks, he suggested food. We grabbed a couple of beers and shared a poutine at one of my haunts and watched the hockey game. We hadn't yet run out of things to talk about. He suggested another walk. We walked a few blocks, he swiftly put his arm around me, saying "if you don't mind." I didn't. We neared the coffee shop we'd met at and he suggested tea. We had tea and talked until the barista kicked us out for closing time. He drove me home, we talked a bit more and asked me if there'd be a second date, to which I responded with a fist-bump. He thought that was hilarious and asked if he could kiss me, to which I said, "obviously." We made out a little in his car, and in an effort to be a classy lady (that's a lie, I hadn't shaved my legs and my bedroom was a mess,) I cut it off after 10 minutes and said "to be continued." as I exited the car.

Although it was a little bit the date version of The Never-Ending Story with less magical flying dog, I had a lot more fun than I could have ever expected I did on my first blind internet date. And, while I am completely and totally on my guard for something completely weird, he seems incredibly nice, intelligent and we have a great chemistry.

Starting over is difficult, but date #2 should be easy enough.

Heyyyyyyyyyyy

A site I love so much is The Frisky. I have learned so many things regarding celebrities and strange animal genetalia from those guys.

Today, while browsing some awesome articles I came across THIS LIST. 20 Shameful Secret Single Girl Behaviors that We're Proud To Admit To.

I really do 99% of these, even though I have roommates and I'm not really single (he just doesn't live in the same city as me). And, really, the list applies to both genders.

Let me post it here so your convenience.

20 Shameful Secret Single Girl Behaviors That We’re Proud To Admit To

1. Playing Tetris on the iPhone while watching “The Real Housewives” on TV. Obviously, this is about conflict resolution. “The Real Housewives” marathon is the conflict. The Tetris marathon is the resolution.

2. Making salad in a giant wooden bowl and using the bowl both for prep and eating to avoid washing an extra dish. It might look stupid. But the two minutes saved on washing extra dishes is worth it.

3. Rinsing dishes instead of using actual soap. Speaking of dish doing … soap is overrated when you’re the only person who uses your dishes. Bask in your own germs.

4. Same for hand washing after using the bathroom. Waste of hand soap!

5. Eating straight out of the fridge or in bed with the laptop. If you’ve recently wiped down your regular eating area, it’s dumb to get it dirty by taking yet another meal there … alone. Skip the kitchen and go straight from fridge to bed,

6. Drinking straight from the bottle. Drink Diet Coke straight from the plastic liter. Wine straight from the bottle. Milk straight from the carton.

7. Smushing the trash down further, to fit more garbage in, instead of taking it out. It doesn’t matter if your apartment smells like rotting spinach if you’re the only one who has to smell it. A candle or some room spray will cover that shit right up and you’ll live another day without having to go down four flights of stairs to the dumpster.

8. Spilling something on the counter and brushing it onto the floor. Coffee grinds, cereal crumbs,pistachio shells, all of it belongs on the kitchen floor where it blends into the ugly linoleum and gets stuck to the bottom of your fuzzy socks.

9. Wearing the same pair of socks multiple times. And even if the bottoms of those fuzzy socks are covered in coffee grounds, you can put off washing them for a while. A long while.

10. Using a towel for a really long time without washing it. Same goes for that face towel you’ve been using in the bathroom. You can flip it up to four times before every surface is covered in your mascara.

11. Boogers don’t really need to go in tissues. Boogers also can be wiped on walls, under beds, in the carpet. Boogers also like to be flicked. But don’t eat boogers. That’s truly gross.

12. Waiting to buy TP until you’ve used every scrap of paper towel and napkin in the house. Boogers especially don’t go in tissues if you’ve been putting off your toilet paper run for a while. Because tissues are the same as toilet paper. Duh.

13. Leaving clumps of hair in the hairbrush. As long at the bristles still run through your hair, you’re in business, Betty,

14. Taking a hell of a lot longer to wash period blood stained sheets than we care to admit. But, what the hell? We’re admitting it now. There is something comforting about sleeping in one’s own period stain. Reminds you that you’re still fertile, even if no one is “tapping that.”

15. Eating potato chips and onion dip for dinner. Tastes better if eaten at the fridge or in the bed with the laptop. We recommend following that up with pretzels dipped in peanut butter and Nutella for dessert. An entire meal without dishes!

16. Sleeping with a teddy bear. His name is Ralph. So what?

17. Cupping our bare breasts or vagina while watching TV. It just feels right.

18. Eating two dinners because the first one wasn’t very good so it didn’t really count. This will be highly unlikely if you ate potato chips and onion dip for dinner. That shit is satisfying.

19. Taking Myspace-style self portraits in the bathroom mirror. It’s important to commemorate these special single moments. Like celebrating an entire day of not using dishes or utensils. Or beating your own Tetris high score while watching “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” Reunion Special.

20. Listening to the same song on loop for five to six days in a row. And it doesn’t matter if it’s something uncool like Soul II Soul’s “Back to Life.” Your plants won’t mind one bit.

To fart or not to fart...

So I've suddenly found myself in the midst of a long distance relationship.

How it happened, I have no idea. I guess I just kind of fell into it.

Y'all may remember Hot Air Balloon guy from last year... well that's who.

I have to say, it's been very trying as I am a massively physical person.

We have visited each other and as hard as it is to be apart, the sex when we finally see each other is AMAZING.

Now that we are growing more and more comfortable around each other he is happy to fart in front of me. This is great, whatever. I'm glad he feels comfortable and the farting doesn't bother me really.

What DOES bother me is that as chill as I am about his farting and as chill as I'm sure he would be I CANNOT BRING MYSELF TO FART IN FRONT OF HIM. This drives me CRAZY.

I'll think I'm fine and that all is great and that there is no reason for me to be weird about it but when it comes down to doing it I panic and try to surpress it or I hide the sound of it and pretend it's not happening.

I just know that one day when I am surpressing it, it's going to be too loud and my pinched butt cheeks are going to turn it into some weird trumpet noise.

Can we just pause and relect on the insane truth this woman speaks?!

One of the gals brought THIS amazing blog post to my attention from bitches gotta eat.

From what I can tell, this woman holds all the knowledge.

Please read an excerpt below:

1 BE MASCULINE AS FUCK. i'm sick and tired of whiny dudes eating salad while wearing girl jeans trying to talk to me about their motherfucking feelings. can we be done with that already? SHUT THE FUCK UP WITH THAT SOFT SHIT. i eat broken glass for breakfast, son. i have the heart of a lion and it pumps lava through my veins. it is simply NOT POSSIBLE for me to have enjoyable sex with a dude in his little sister's t-shirt who has shampoo blood and takes diet pills. i need some calloused hands against my backside, friends. if 2011 was the year of the baby-faced emo drinking his similac while rubbing his wilted penis into your thigh and calling you mommy, PLEASE OH PLEASE let 2012 be the year that men grow some fucking facial hair and and locate their motherfucking testicles AND FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF YOU IN A BED HE CHOPPED DOWN A TREE TO MAKE WITH HIS BARE HANDS. i want to know that a man with a deep voice who slaughters his own meat is not going to put up with any of my goddamned shit. i want to know that a bossy dude with a dick like a beer can isn't going to cry while getting a goddamned blowjob. we need some dudes who put their fucking foot down and are not going to tolerate any of that backtalk, little girl.