I will remain nameless.
The men will remain nameless.
I don't plan to censor anything, so if you are offended get over it because I don't care.
You can, and should laugh at these stories I'm offering up.
Tell your friends, and they will laugh.
If you have your own story, let me know and you can guest blog.
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.
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?"
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.