Shaved Legs...again!

And so, there I was, back in the world of dating again and boy had it changed since I last dated.   Gone were the days of men picking up a phone and calling you.  Dating websites provided the platform for brief, yet interesting ice breakers that could or could not lead to something more.

Let’s go back to the Balkan god I mentioned in one of my earlier posts.  He was, for all intents and purposes, perfection.  Tall, dark, slate blue eyes and muscles of steel.  I thought I had died and gone to heaven when we first started chatting online.  He was one of many that I had sent a wink to on the dating website…and he actually replied back!  He was interested, damaged goods and all.    So I said let’s meet.

We did.

And…he made me feel desirable, sexy and interesting! I started to feel good about myself again.

What a night! 

But the night didn't start out with the same good feelings. 

Let’s discuss the pre—work to that night.  It was a challenge.  I had been single for a while and the reality of what my wardrobe looked like hit me hard (including underclothes!)  Crap!  I had nothing sexy to wear! No short skirts or tight fitting tops, just a pair of jeans and tee shirt that I could possibly work with.  The only acceptable lingerie I owned was a black bra and something that very loosely resembled sexy panties (just because they are lace, doesn't make them sexy!)

Then I looked down at my legs, horrified.  I DIDN’T EVEN HAVE ENOUGH TIME FOR A WAX!!!

Did I worry about these things when I was married? Not so much.

And so, I searched for a razor.  I found one nestled behind a whole bunch of other toiletries, tucked away under the bathroom sink. There was a bit of rust on the blade but I was desperate and it was worth the risk.  

I had never seen so much blood before. But whenever I look at these scars, I remember that night, with a smile on my face. 

From ear to ear!
(NOTE to all single women out there...laser hair removal...WELL worth the investment!)

Accessories....Not Baggage

So what have I learned so far since being on my own?

I learned that I was wasting my “sexual peak” years.

I learned that in terms of quality of men out there, it stunk.

I learned that some things are best left in the past where they belong. 

But I learned one very important lesson and carry it with me always.

My kids are NOT BAGGAGE, they are ACCESSORIES.

VERY FASHIONABLE ONES.

You Can Never Go Back

It finally happened.I met a man whose mouth was larger than his penis.

I know that this must sound absurd since men like to think that their penis is larger than life, but believe me, it happened.By the time I uncovered this truth about him, it was too late.Funny thing though, I had known this man for years and this was a new discovery for me.

You see, somewhere along the way of searching for “perfect partner”, I had decided that perhaps finding that lost love from years gone by would be the answer.

Was I ever wrong.

My intention was good and the thought of reuniting with my first love was, oh so romantic, no? Twenty years prior, in the impetuousness of my youth, I had captured the attention of an older boy and we spent years flirting back and forth with nothing ever transpiring.

Now I know why.

Some memories are best kept guarded in the deep recesses of our minds - that place where the innocence of young love lives and still shines brightly.These memories are no longer there for me to draw upon in my future as an elderly woman.They disappeared…gone forever…after only 4 weeks with this man.

His attention became too consuming and concerning. Actually, creepy would be a better way to describe it. His idea of "relationship" was so far from my definition. He had such a warped sense of reality and voiced it at every possible moment.

This was not going to work.

Things fell from his mouth like an uncontrollable case of verbal diarhea. He had no filter and thought he knew it all 'cuz HE WAS THE MAN.

He just didn’t know when to shut up and I couldn’t deal with it, nor did I want to.

So, the inevitable moment arrived when I knew I had to end this. I asked him out to coffee, figuring a public place would be best to do this and we could avoid any sort of scene. I told him that this wasn't going to work, stressing that my life had no room for someone right now due to my responsibilities. I tried to handle it tactfully, making it about me and not him.

His reply…. “YOU ARE DAMAGED GOODS AND NO ONE WILL EVER WANT YOU BECAUSE OF YOUR BAGGAGE!”

I had expected a bit of disappointment but this was a shock.I told him to have a good life and walked away.

Words have a tremendous impact on people. And those words still haunt me.

Monogamous Non Relationships

I have an old friend who is a bit of an enigma.

I love him dearly and he has seen me through the good, the bad and the ugly.  A sounding board for all my daily wins, losses and catastrophes, he has been a constant for me in a forever evolving path.

He is the first one to say I should be out there having fun, that I should be focused on that and not falling in love.  As much as he professes he won’t settle down, he has gone through his share of what we like to call “monogamous non-relationships”.  I love the fact that he views this as a happy alternative.  Don’t get me wrong, he is a kind and gentle man who always treats a woman right. 

But I want to know, what the hell is a "non-relationship"?!? 

If you are spending intimate moments with only one person, isn't that a relationship?  He thinks he is fooling the system but I think he is knee deep in it! 

He has been blessed with the knowledge that a lot of men lack, how to make a woman happy and keep her happy.  Every woman’s best friend and a man true to his word, he makes every woman feel special and inspires her to do things she never thought possible.  He sees her potential, not her limitations.

Amazingly, he is able to keep great friendships with all his past lovers, a feat many men would be reluctant to want to accomplish.  I often envy him for the ease in which he maneuvers in and out of this “non relationships”, although I do feel that in some way he longs to find the “one”. 

So what is making these "non-relationships" work for him?  I think I figured it out.

Expectations.

There are no crazy, honey-why-aren't-you-calling-me-twelve-times-a-day, crying into your pillow, waiting by the phone, nagging demands being placed on either partner. 

Maybe I needed to look at things the way he did.

Maybe he had a point.
(P.S. He is totally in love right now and is IN a relationship!)

Dating Advice from a 6 year old

Friday night is movie night for me and my kids. Cuddled on the sofa in our pj’s, we watch whatever chick flick is on television.

One particular Friday, about 5 years ago, MY BIG FAT GREEK WEDDING was on. Yes, I admit, I love this movie.

Two reasons I love it.

Number 1, it’s the classic tale of struggling to figure out who you are tossed together with a dash of romance that makes it warm my heart every time I watch it and believe that anything is possible.

Number two, John Corbett.

I have been a fan of Mr. Corbett for years, discovering him and falling instantly in love with his character Chris Stevens, the philosophical ex-con on NORTHERN EXPOSURE. His voice made me sigh, over and over and he is really easy on the eyes!

Watching him grace the screen as the super hot Ian Miller this one evening, I let out a sigh.

“Mommy wants to find a man like that” I swooned.

I don’t think I even finished that sentence before my, then 6 year old daughter sat up and pointed her finger at me, scolding, “Not looking like that you won’t!”

I was shocked! She was 6…and chastising me for my appearance.

“If you want to find someone like that you need to put some lipstick on, fix your hair and put on jeans. You know, make yourself look like a woman!”

I am still stunned by her comment to this day. Maybe she had a point.

As I continued to watch the movie, I began to think that lying around with dark roots and sweat pants with an ice cream carton on my lap wasn’t scoring me any points with the fellows.

I think it was time to shake it up.

Thank you daughter!

Does Hair Colour Really Matter?

Faced with the reality of having to actually go out there and date again, I started taking inventory of where to go and what to wear.

I wasn't ready for my discovery.  Gone were the days when jeans and cowboy boots were good enough to wear out and a beer was the drink of choice.

Now, everything glittered and glowed and bubbled with fake enthusiasm.

I did not.

Everyone looked the same.  Men sported the same GQ look and women wore the mandatory 5 inch heels, short dress and red lips.  Authenticity seemed to be lacking.

It was then I knew I didn't fit in and I felt an old familiar feeling creep up inside me.

At a young age, I became acutely aware of what it meant to be different.  Growing up as a first generation Canadian was not without challenges.

I could speak another language, which according to my Anglo friends, was just "weird".   I also ate strange things for lunch. They didn't know what frittata was and they surely didn't understand why my family would spend one weekend at the end of every summer jarring tomatoes.

Then there were the other first generation Canadian friends.  I remember coming home from school in grade one, tears streaming down my face, inconsolable.

You see, I was the only Audrey in a sea of Maria's. The only blonde in a blanket of brunettes.  My light eyes were freakishly bright compared to the chestnut ones that stared back.

I didn't want to be different.  I wanted to blend in.  With either side. 

Funny how things change.

I can't imagine blending in anymore. 

So now what?

Fast forward a few years, now divorced, a single mom and still waiting for that perfect someone to sweep me off my feet. I had become the topic of many friends’ discussions.

“Isn’t there anyone we can introduce you to?”
“Have you tried online dating?”
“Being single is better, trust me!”

I always loved the last comment because it generally came from the happiest of couples, who, for all their complaints about one another, still spend copious amounts of time being all lovey dovey. It is easy to say “stay single” when you know that there is someone waiting for you at the end of the day.

But the best comment from loved ones was, “You are at your sexual peak! Go out, have fun! It’s all down hill after this!”

So there I was, past my “peak”. What a waste! In my haste of wanting out of the marriage, I really hadn't given it enough thought. I was 33, divorced, two small children, in the process of building my career…who had time for fun, let alone a relationship. To say that I was frustrated was a complete and utter understatement! I began to frantically search for someone to fill the spot next to me, looking for that perfect blend of Hugh Jackman and Ward Cleaver.

  

I never did find it.

I can tell you what I did find...I found the unemployed, still living with mama, wanna be Fonz; the sweet but desperate magazine photographer who promised I would have an amazing life with him; the incredibly hot Balkan god; the preppy boy who still wasn’t over his true love; the law enforcement officer who couldn’t make up his mind between being happy or miserable (that one scared me…volatile emotions and a gun, not a good combo!); the latin lover who said I didn’t have enough meat on my ass for his liking (that’s a good thing in my eyes!); the young stud who tried to convince me that age didn’t matter – in his country; and the pseudo intellect who thought opening a door was the extent of what being a gentleman was all about.

You name it, I found it.

So what was I supposed to do? I had hit my peak...all the books and articles said sex would never be as great as it would be now. Yet I was alone.
 

What had I done?