Monday, 6 October 2014

The Loch Ness Monster

From Ireland I went to Scotland. The land of manly accents and calf muscles. I had no idea that the National animal of Scotland is the FLIPPING UNICORN. How bad ass is that? They don't even exist.

Today's activity! 

Take out a pen and paper and write your top 5-10 perfect man characteristics. Don't be shy. I know that they're already brimming on the edge of your cerebral cortex and you've always wanted an excuse to write them down but haven't because you're scared your boyfriend will find the list and use it against you. Maybe break up with you and return your birthday gift to the store.

So write them down now. DO IT NOW!!!

Then hold it up to my list to see if we are twinsies.

Imaginary Man List:
Dark hair
Green eyes
5'9". Also acceptable 5'7", 5'8" and 5'10".
Nice shoes that aren't Tom's shoes.
Sexy forearms and calves.
Sexy Scottish accent

Sense of humour
Over 30
Has a car, house or a credit card.
Super flirty all the time.

Twinsies? No?

Whatever is on your list... I actually don't care because this blog is about me anyhow. So the odds of meeting someone who embodies this list is pretty rare. I count my lucky stars that my expectations are so low that I found a match. Notice I didn't list an IQ or education or anything?

So I took a bus tour of the Scottish countryside. I figured it would be mostly like the ones I took in Ireland- full of old people and lesbians. But no! I didn't notice that the slogan of this tour was "wild and sexy" and thus attracting young people!

Note: I was almost the oldest person there but because of my converse, skinny jeans and toque no one guessed. Thanks Forever 21!

The drivers on this tour were two smoking hot Scottish men. Shortbread wrapped in plaid. Like the full meal deal super sized. Braveheart in 2014... just not Mel Gibson style (man he's old). And because I get motion sick I always sit up front. On the drivers lap. Just kidding. But spending a week chatting with men who were born earlier than 1985 was extremely pleasant. I had forgotten that people in their 30's know lots of things that I know and we can talk about those things. For example, these guys saw Train spotting and the Matrix in the movie theatre. Probably Back to the Future too, but I didn't ask. I just figured they grew up wrestling bears in the Scottish wilderness with muscled forearms.

But I digress. So by now you remember I don't drink alcohol. But in the United Kingdom where the national animal IS A FLIPPING UNICORN... I drink. That's right. All my friends that are Pentecostal perked right up! Haha. Am I wrong? But yes. I drink in Scotland. So what you do if you are in AA is go to the bartender and get them to pour a bottle of non alcoholic Becks beer into a glass. Bingo. Nobody makes fun of you for not drinking alcohol because it looks like you are! It's super easy to make people think you're drunk too. Just smear your eyeliner around, be all sweaty and swear a lot. I'm really good at this because that's how I am in real life.

So I spent my nights in the pub with the hot Scottish men. One of them was eye candy and all the 20 year olds wore low cut tanks and shimmied and crowded around him, and to tell you the truth I sat there and made fun of them with the other Scottish guy. Who basically was everything on my aforementioned list.

Please remember by now my friends and family think that I am some sort of weird Christian nun (who swears a lot) or a lesbian (who can't get a girlfriend) so it's perfectly ok for me to be flattered by a smoking hot Scottish man who says things like "I've always wanted to see a Canadian beaver" while giving me saucy looks in the rearview mirror. Or my personal favourite, "Would ye like to see ma loch ness monster lass?"

So after chatting with this guy and telling him about my life back in Canada... He stops me and says "You're quite the lone wolf now aren't you lass? Why don't you take the night off and join me in my room for a wee spell?"

Oh man.

Being invited to a hotel room of your fantasy man is the ultimate offer. It's like if you were visiting L.A in the 90's and Brandon Walsh or Dylan McKay invited you to one of their rooms to listen to a tape. Or if it were 1989 and you went to a party hosted by the New Kids on the Block and Donny Walberg asked you to rebraid his rat tail. Or if it were the late 90s and Jordan Catalano left his plaid shirt casually in your house and you sleep in it everyday for a week and go out and smell 40 different mens cologne samples at the Bay to try to match the scent so you can buy yourself a bottle and spray all your pyjamas every night. (And your pillow). So it's like that.

And for a girl this damn old it's pretty tempting. 

I've seen quite a few ladies in my age group settle for men that absolutely don't deserve them, or have one night stands that broke their hearts... sometimes left them as single moms. My heart goes out to these situations because it's easy to take your eyes off the Cross and just go with it. So I'll be honest. I was absolutely tempted to join this hot hot man in his hotel room. I really only had a split second to decide. I thought to myself... "Is this really what you want to do?" Answer... "Heck yes, actually." But... "Is this the kind of woman you are?" Nope I'm not. I would have regret it for the rest of my life most likely and been heartbroken. I told him that he was too drunk for company and I went back to my room alone. 

And I cried for two days. I hiked up a volcano that morning and stopped every five minutes because I couldn't see where I was going. The next morning, I climbed it again but I didn't feel any better. What can I say? Sometimes life sucks and you don't get what you want and you don't know why you don't get what you want. But you just have to keep trusting that God has your best interests at heart and that when you're not looking out for yourself, He probably is. 

And of course since that day I keep wondering (obsessing) about the context of "Lone wolf." 

Really? Lone wolf? Coincidently those two words would make excellent knuckle tattoos. 

Saturday, 30 August 2014

I kissed the Blarney Stone, and I liked it.

Ok so after Dublin I went around and ended up in Cork. They don't make corks there. That's Portugal. Cork was a typical tourist town to be honest. Lots of shopping... and no starbucks. I spent 2 days there and saw pretty much everything. So I decided it was time to visit Blarney Castle.

A lot of the time people brag about kissing the Blarney Stone but no one really knows what that is.

Think about it. Do you know what it is?

I thought so.

But it's true. It's a stone. And it's attached to a castle. The word "blarney" means "clever, flattering, or coaxing talk" and let me tell you... it's all true. Just wait until you hear about the guy I met while kissing this famous stone.

I got on a tour bus in Cork to get to Blarney Castle and wouldn't you know it? The only empty seat on the bus wasn't next to a granny. It was next to a guy that lives 3 hours away from me in my real life. At first it was nice to chat about home and things but I started to feel like I had deja vu. I felt like this had happened to me before... same conversation, over and over. I couldn't shake what it was. It was really bothering me until I realised that I WAS ON A BAD BLIND DATE.

This guy bragged non-stop for like 2 hours on the bus about how he is mega rich, he gets tons of women in Calgary because he buys them all drinks at the club. He told the whole bus that Ireland was so different because when he offers to buy women drinks in Ireland, they say no. (I'm going to add a "Get lost creep" to that but he didn't say that part). From what people told me in Ireland, if you accept drinks from a guy he expects you to put out. Is that true in North America? I haven't been to a club since 1999 so what would I know? I personally wouldn't drink anything a greasy oilworker gave me no matter where I am, because I'm ALLERGIC TO ROHYPNOL. He actually said that he hasn't seen much of Ireland except the pubs. Why would you fly to a different country and not look at anything? Oh. Cause he's "rich" with oil money and Fort Mac got boring. Then he bragged about how he is the best at everything. He actually said that. He said that he could have gone pro as a skateboarder, he can write code and could work for google, that he thought about doing astro physics but that he didn't want a desk job. He even bragged about how curly his hair was. He mentioned that even though he spends all his money on women, he's "still looking for that special someone" and did I want to go to the pub tonight? A lot of the time I'm glad I used to be an addict and can say: "Sorry, I'm in A.A," as the best excuse EVER not to go to a bar.

Ugh. Let me say that my cheeks were sore from smiling and nodding and I couldn't wait to get off the bus. When it pulled up on the castle grounds I found the nearest Asian tourist and asked if they would take selfies with me. This took half an hour and by that time I figured that I lost him. But then my new Asian friends wanted to hang out so that was really cool actually, and we went to find the big bad blarney stone.

To get to the stone you have to climb up these teeny tiny claustrophobic spiral staircases (like much of Europe) and go out on the roof and find the old men. These old guys hold your legs while you go on your back, slide backwards, and dip down backwards upside down to kiss a stone covered with cold sore germs. My Calgary Gem was already there. Waiting for me. Or so he said... "I was waiting for our make-out session, what took you so long?" OMG. So I did the stone thing. And then I couldn't shake the guy! He just followed me around the grounds and it's hard for me not to be polite in person. It's way easier for me to be a jerk here, but my snappy comments don't always come out in person. I usually make a weird face and talk extra perky and tell people I have to go to the bathroom to get away from them.

So on the grounds there's a poison garden. And my thoughts turned dark. A little nightshade could really do the trick.

But alas... another bus ride home listening to him brag about how intelligent he is and how rich he is.

MEN do you really think that this is impressive? No matter what walk of life you come from bragging is super rude and it just shows how insecure you are. Isn't it better to be yourself and let people be impressed with things that last? Like your consideration. Your sense of humour. Your thoughtfulness. It might be old school of me but if I have a conversation with a guy and he doesn't ask me a single question about myself... he's not into you. He's into HIM. And I've got better things to do than validate egos. Like kiss a stone in the south of Ireland that a million of other tacky tourists kissed so they can brag to people that "I kissed the Blarney Stone."

Wednesday, 13 August 2014

Wee Little Spanish Man.

So from France I went to Ireland! I started in Dublin, at Issac's Hostel. This was an interesting one... let me tell you. It's a meat market. They have the Internet in the lobby only, and pump the music super loud so it's like an all day party! So because people are forced to be out in the open when they are checking emails and the facebooks it's the perfect opportunity for all the creepy men to skeeze on the girls.

I was downstairs for maybe 10 minutes, loathing the pop music and I noticed a guy. He started off on the other side of the room, and he slowly worked his way over to my table. Picture this: a teeny tiny Spanish guy with a Mohawk and soulful black eyes wearing a white wife beater. It gets better. He was drumming on the table with drumsticks. I think he was trying to impress me with his tapping skills, but he probably just wanted to tap the new girl.

Because I've been trained in Intercultural Studies... and with my job I have a "friendly" switch, I turned it on low and made some conversation. He said that he was in Dublin looking for a job and learning English. From what I understand the Irish men can't even find jobs in Ireland, so I think he's on the wrong island. After a while I got tired of the broken English (sue me) and the whole staring down my shirt thing and trying to grab my leg and I was like "Hey dude.. I'm just leaving now but where should I go in Dublin? Any good sights to see?" I don't know if that's considered a pick up line because I was trying to drop him... but his response was "Ok, tonight WE could go to this bridge at midnight, it's very beautiful. But not as beautiful as you."

Hold up. That's not what I asked. I think I made a face at him and said "I'm allergic to bridges" and he was like, "Ok, well I'm sure we can find something to do, I will call you tonight." Except that I didn't arrange an international phone for this backpacking trip. So I let him add me on Facebook so that the conversation could end... I could leave... and I didn't seem too rude.

So I went out by myself, because I like being by myself... and I hit up a Starbucks for the wifi and clicked on this guy's FB page. HOLY HELL HE WAS 22 YEARS OLD. For two minutes I was like, "Ok, great... the 40 year old guys haven't zoned in yet and guys in their 20's are still interested." Then I did the math. And wanted to throw up. I deleted that baby face and prayed I'd never run into him at the hostel! ACK!!! SICK.

I mean... sick. It's meant to be half your age plus 7. He didn't quite make it.

I soon realised that the Spanish guys in Ireland can't go more than 3 hours without having sex otherwise they might DIE as the legend goes. I did end up running into babyface in the hostel. He was shaving in the hallway at 11pm at night. So, I guess that's courteous to that nights S.T.D fest. He was like, "Hey you still owe me a date blondie!" My reply... (my favourite) "The only thing I owe you is a spanking, because I'm almost old enough to be your mother." He just stared at me. Didn't move. And then he backed away into his room.

After a week in Dublin I saw absolutely everything that exists... and went onto Kilkenny where my hostel had black mold in the bathroom, the floor was mushy, hairs in the bathtub and dirty towels hung up. The sheets had blood on the bottom, as well as on the pillow and wall. The room was generally grimy... and it was deserted. I was the only guest, and I slept with the lights on and the skeleton key in the lock so I would know if someone tried to break in.. (my key would have fallen out on the floor) and in the morning I was actually locked into the creepy hostel and I had to kick the door down to get out.

And THAT was still more preferable to skeezy Spanish guys trying to get in my pants.

Friday, 11 July 2014

In case you didn't know... the moulin rouge is topless.

I've always wondered what kind of person has absolutely no personality or imagination and needs to google "Top 10 date ideas" to find things to do. I guess that's better than taking a girl to a McDonald's drive thru or making her watch you do martial arts. But according to ASK MEN this is the top 10 things to do on a date:

The Theatre.
Driving Range.
Art Gallery.
Local Music Show.
Play Tourist.
Ice Skating.
Try new Cuisine.

Well. There you have it. The limits of a mans imagination. I've done all these things on dates, with the exception of a driving range. If I'm going to be hitting balls with a stick on a date it's going to have to be vandalism in order to have fun. Is it just me or is golf not the most boring sport?  Dude that's BORING. Go burn some flipping calories already like a smelly sweaty man that's playing a real sport. Of course I'm pretty sure that guys take girls bowling to check out their bums without being noticed.

So I made a list of things NOT to do on a first date. 

Go golfing.
Eat ribs.
A family event.  
Sports bar. 
X rated movie. 
Strip club. 
Go to a topless show. 

Of course these things SHOULD be common sense. But you know. 

When I was in Paris there were probably TENS OF THOUSANDS of happy couples there, all doing the same things that I was doing. Romantic walks, visits to art galleries, eating in tiny cafe's, strolling, people watching, sketching, french movies, shopping... etc. People kissing everywhere. I saw so many tongues I felt like I was in a butcher shop. I started to kind of feel lonely a bit... it kind of sucks going to one of the most romantic cities in the world by yourself.

So I decided to treat myself and take myself on a date to the theatre! The Moulin Rouge in fact. It was super expensive even though I bought the ticket without the drink option. I loved the movie, and I was super excited to go to the show. For some reason... I thought it would be similar to the movie.

First they led me into a grand theatre full of happy people (on dates) with cute little tables with tablecloths, red lamps on the tables and glitz everywhere. Then they led me to a bare table under the stairs in the corner where you couldn't see the stage. I was like "Dude.. I don't think so." And they pretended not to understand English. I decided to just suck it up and not complain. Then they seated this old Russian lady in a huge puffy sweater with bad breath next to me to be my date! YAY! I guess that singles have to stick together. She showed me all her photos of all the same attractions I went to on the worlds slowest, smallest screened digital camera from the 80's. And she would NOT take a mint. I offered twice.

When the show finally started and the room was full of happy couples holding hands across the table and making Disney eyes at each other and the Russian lady had stopped playing footsie with me I realised something. THIS WAS A TOPLESS SHOW. I'd like to make a joke about not seeing that much silicone outside of home depot but they were not fakes! I was pretty stunned. I had no idea that the show was topless but you know... it's not something that I've never seen before. I have two of them myself and I see them all the time. And that was the moment that I was pretty relieved that I wasn't on a date. WHO TAKES A DATE TO A TOPLESS SHOW? SERIOUSLY? SO AWKWARD.

After spending 99 euros on a show where they lip sync to English songs, can't afford to buy the dancers bikini tops, get treated like a second class citizen seated in the worst seat in the theatre... I thought back to some of my bad dates and realised that some weren't as bad as this experience. And then the stage of the Moulin rouge turned into an AQUARIUM FULL OF YELLOW PYTHONS SWIMMING IN WATER and as a topless women jumped into the tank to swim with them... I realised that this was probably the worst date I've ever been on. Had a guy ever taken me to a topless show where we sat in the worst seats and the room was full of snakes I probably wouldn't call him again. And I would have done exactly what I did... left early, went home to my hostel alone and marvelled at my own stupidity.

Monday, 7 July 2014

A German Breakfast in France.

Oh my gosh. So I went to France.

The thing about France is that EVERYTHING is a tourist attraction. Moulin Rouge, the Louvre, Eiffel Tower... crawling with people. Everywhere you go you can't really get a moments peace and enjoy yourself unless.... you get up at 5 am in order to get there before everyone else does. I tried this. I'm not a morning person by any means but I did it. Woke up at 5, and was downstairs for breakfast by 6.

The man that served breakfast in my hostel was really creepy. And really French. He would watch you to make sure you only took one croissant and one day he frowned at me taking 2 sugar cubes and on my 6 am early day he saw me coming and REMOVED the sugar before I could take one. Then he pretended he didn't know English when I was like, Dude I can't drink this tea without sugar.

So this random German guy offered to share his honey. I usually don't accept food from strangers but since he was using it I thought it was probably ok. And part of travelling is getting out of your comfort zone and eating mysterious honey and talking to strangers at 6 am is definitely out of my comfort zone.

So I asked this guy why he was up at 6am and he said he hadn't been to bed yet, because they were at the club all night and then drank "many bottles of wine" outside on the sidewalk. His English (for a drunk guy) was actually really good, and he was actually really good looking. Tall, blond, beardy, strapping German lad. All he was missing was the Laederhosen! They don't make guys like that in Canada... and if they do they're in the woods somewhere because I can't find them.

So my new German friend invited me to his room to drink "bottles of wine" with his friends. Hell no. I was like "Oh, sorry I'm meeting my friend, I'm going to Versailles today!" I mean... it's 6am. Do you really think I have time to become a statistic and miss my grand tour of Europe because I'm skinned alive in a creepy hostel in france? Actually... it was a really nice design hostel.

So instead my new German friend invited me to come to Germany! "You must come to Germany and stay at my house and we will go to nightclubs! Germany has the best clubs and we will dance!" He gave me his phone number in Berlin... his address... he told me which train to take and all that jazz. I was kind of regretting putting makeup on.

(This is the best part.)

Then he made a sandwich and beat boxed for me. When I say that he "beat boxed" what I mean is that he said "boots and pants and boots and pants and boots and pants and boots and pants" over and over again... while doing a rave dance shuffle and eating a sandwich.

And I never saw him again...

Thursday, 19 June 2014

Vegan Man.

I was on the phone with a friend and she mentioned she wanted to set me up with a friend of hers. I didn't say anything, and changed the subject. Then she mentioned it again another day and I reminded her that I only date Christian men. She said "Oh, he believes in God!" which could mean many things actually. A lot of people believe in a higher power, or a god, or demi gods, or Hindu gods, or that God is a woman or some kind of different theology or the power of goodness or something like that. There are so many options out there, and we are all different types of people. But I prefer the guys that believe that Jesus is the one true way to salvation... in a nutshell: basic Christian beliefs. So my standards might be high to some people, or low depending on how you look at it.

She ended up texting me three pictures of him.

The first one was totally normal, but sunglasses so he could have been anyone off the street. Jack black probably.

The second one was a sports picture, and it looked like he was punching himself in the face, tongue out, with crossed eyes.

The third one was probably from high school so almost 20 years ago... and he looked like Harry Potter.

All the pictures looked like three different people, so I had no idea what this guy could look like and I really wasn't planning on going any further with it.

So, I'm at the mall the day before I leave on a backpacking trip to the UK and Europe. I'm like totally in a hurry and I'm like, "I need to buy an iPad or SOMETHING!!!!!!" so I had no makeup on, unwashed hair, wearing clothes that I actually did sleep in the day before. I probably smelled terrible, no accessories and the day before I got a bad haircut where she actually scalped my bangs. I honestly don't think that I even brushed my teeth. (Shut up, you've done it). AND then I get a text!

"Hey, want to meet my friend? Come to this vegetarian restaurant in an hour!"

Oh man. So, I go to Sephora and slap makeup on my face, find some body spray at Target that makes me smell like a baby prostitute, and scour my car for abandoned earrings or necklaces or something to make me look less like a hobo.

Or I could have just said no. But, I was curious as to what this guy was like and I'm always up for a blind date. Even though it wasn't a date... BECAUSE MY FRIEND WAS THE CHAPERONE! Every single set up or blind date I've had, it was just me and the guy... I've never had a set up where my friends come on the date too! Hahahhahaha.

Literally the most awkward meet that I've ever had. This guy looked NOTHING like any of the three different guys in the photos. He almost never spoke to me, and basically spoke just to our mutual friend. He looked like the typical beer drinking oil field worker that runs rampant in our great state of Alberta, Canada. I'm sure he is a decent person but the only way you get to draw out a shy person in conversation is by being alone with them. Then they are pretty much forced to talk to you... or at least avoid looking at you and make it awkward on their account.


Plus, I threw up all the vegetarian food I ate as soon as I got home. So gross. Pre formed vegan "meat" full of chemicals and deep fried? I thought vegetarians tried to be healthy, but I was so wrong! If my body is rejecting vegan chemical food it's a good thing I didn't respond to Vegan Man's facebook request.

What's funny is that my bff made an offhand comment a week ago "Oh you know where you can find a lot of single guys? On flights to Fort Mac". Thanks but no thanks.

Monday, 2 June 2014

Back in Business...

Hey Fans! I've had so many concerned emails...

"Where are you?"

"Hey this is funny... anymore dates?"

"Did you stop dating?"

"Did you get married or something?"

WOW. I had 78! emails from fans asking about me and telling me how much they love my horrid dating blog in my absence from posting. Plus my real friends in my real life were asking about it! Sorry guys. I have a life, or somewhat of a life.

I finished a bachelors degree and I was really stressed out, taking twice the amount of classes to graduate (with honours) and on time.

Then I laid around and watched netflix.

Then I started travelling.

Not much time for frivolous blind dating during that time, and remember that I've dated most of the men in my town already. Although I did have a somewhat blind date before I left on a backpacking trip. I'll post it this week....