How long is ‘a long time’?

I remember taking someone into my bedroom, for some ‘you know what’, quite a while ago. He made a nice comment about the decor and I said “It’s been a long time since I invited someone into my bedroom.    A long time.”  He gave me a quizzical look, and asked “How long is ‘a long time’?”.

My reply was “ooohhhhh, 8 months?”.  He laughed, apparently that was not “a long time” for him.  Plus, it was 8 months since I had had someone in my bedroom, not since I have been in someone else’s bedroom.  Being a smart girl, I kept that info to myself.

I recall going on a date with someone who confessed that he had not had a girlfriend in 7 years.  Seven YEARS?  OMG!  I think I would die.  And although he was very good looking and quite charming, I only had two dates with him.  He was talking about marriage and what our kids were going to look like, and it freaked me out.  But if I hadn’t had a good prospect in a very long time, perhaps I would be in a rush as well?

So, the question:  How long is ‘a long time’?

Stories!

I am at work, and I have nothing to do.  My inbox is almost empty, except a few things I am waiting on other people for.  My google reader has no unread entries.  My phone has no messages.  My colleagues are all (suspiciously) quiet.  My glass of coke is empty.  Is it the calm before the storm, a perfect time to tell old dating stories!

I had a date a few years ago, with a guy I met at a house party.  He was really cute, with huge eyes.  Let’s call him “The Eyes”.  So, The-Eyes and I send a few emails and decide to meet up at a bar the following weekend.  I am not a big drinker, so whoever my date is, he generally drinks more than I do.  I have one or two drinks, and “he” will have, well, more.  (Side note:  I have learned to make my first dates coffee dates, it works out so much better!)

That said, on our date, between 10:00 pm and 2:00 am, The-Eyes consumed ELEVEN beers.  And we went to 3 different bars, and at each one the door man greeted him by name.  By name!  I’ve worked in bars in the past, and I go out a lot, but even I am not known by the bar staff by name!  And I’m a pretty girl!  He was Very Drunk by the end of the night.  We kissed (of course, he was so cute!), and then I had to tell him the next day that I did not want see him again (<insert excuse here> about not being ready after recent-end-of-last-relationship).

Some devil’s advocates have countered that The-Eyes may have been drinking because he was nervous, but either way, I don’t want to date a drunk…

Opinions, thoughts, comments?  Should I have given him a second date?  Could I have misunderstood? What would you have done?

To kiss or not to kiss? That is the question.

I view kissing the same way I view a Baskin Robin’s ice cream store:  If I was allowed to try every single flavor, I would.  At the end of almost every date, I want to kiss the person; even if I know I don’t want to go out with him again.  Why?  Because kissing is awesome!

I am trying, quite actively, not to kiss people who I know I don’t want to date.  It causes such complication!  If you go on a date with someone, then you kiss them at the end, it makes them think you want to see them again, and I suppose I would think the same thing…  I wish I could explain to them “I just wanted a little taste, I don’t want to buy it”, without offending.

Thoughts?

My first date, ever

My first ‘official’ date was Valentine’s Day, when I was 18 years old.  I had boyfriends since the age of 15, but never a ‘real’ date before.  I was quite excited.  He had told me he would pay for dinner, buy some booze, and we would find ‘a warm private place to drink it together’.  At 18 years old, I thought this sounded like the height of romance.

I met up with my date, let’s call him ‘first-date’, at the mall.  He informs me that he is taking me to dinner at Burger King.  I explain that I am a vegetarian, what will I eat?  He says I will eat poutine (Poutine is a French Canadian dish that consists of French fries, cheese curds, and gravy.  It’s a snack or side dish, not a meal.).  He eats two burgers and a ton of fries.  Perhaps he didn’t want me to eat very much so I would get drunk more easily?  I didn’t have any money (only bus tickets to get home), so it’s not like I could argue with him.

Then we head back to the mall, to the roof.  He explains that there is a vent there that we can drink near, the air is very hot and will keep us warm.  Since it is February in Canada, warmth is an important factor.  He said no one knew about it, it would be just the two of us.

We get up to the roof, and there were 5 or 6 other people already there.  They were drinking and rowdy.  First-date seemed a bit apprehensive, but since I am quite outgoing I introduced all of us, and explained to them that we are going to have a drink together.  After 20 minutes or so, we were acting like old friends.

As the evening progresses, and we were all getting quite sloshed, a snow fight ensues.  Everyone is running around ‘facewashing’ each other (a facewash is when you put snow in your hand and then try to ‘wash’ someone’s face with it).   One of the guys (let’s call him Mr-Punk) puts some snow down my jacket, and First-date grabs him and throws him in the snow, then threatens him.  I talked him down, and he relaxed a bit, but Mr-Punk kept flirting with me and playing with me, which only made First-date all the more annoyed.  Eventually First-Date announces we are leaving, and we head towards the exit. 

Mr-Punk and the rest of the crew decide to come with us, to walk us to the busses.  Somehow a few more people have joined us and there are 10 of us now.  First-Date stayed quite close, and was being quite rude to Mr-Punk.

I was completely oblivious.  I did not have any idea what First-Date’s problem was.  Ha!  I was so young and naive…

First-Date and I said our fairwells and took the bus part way home together.  As we were transfering busses, I kissed him on the lips.  He kissed me back.  We parted ways, taking our different buses home.

The End.

PS We had another date, but only because I didn’t understand how to say ‘no’ yet.  I acted weirdly enough on our second date to discourage him from asking for a third one…

Long weekend away

I am not from Ottawa, the city I live in now; I have friends and family scattered across Southern Ontario, the area that I am from.   I lived in a few places, Brantford, Kitchener, etc, and moved up to Ottawa when I was 8 or 10 years old.  I went this weekend to visit my two best friends, guy-best-friend and chick-best-friend.  Let’s call them Guy-BF and Chick-BF.

Guy-BF is moving to Montreal, sometime this winter (March or April).  Montreal, the same place that someone I was just dating split up with me to move to.  Guy-BF told me his other best friend is also moving there (January), and so is his long distance girlfriend (but not until August, 10 months from now).  He gave me a talk about how living far apart from me was hard.  That he missed me.  That we were ”blood”.  Yes, of course we had been drinking, but either way the sentiment was still quite clear: we should live in the same city.  I really don’t like us being apart for months at a time either, and although Montreal is much closer than where he lives now (8 hours-ish), we would still be living in different cities after he moves to Montreal.

I have some thinking to do.  I am going back to school for a few months, I start quite soon.  I am supposed to be in school for approximately 6 months, but I am not sure if it will take longer (it is not a traditional course of 4 or 8 months, I have to continue  studying until I make a certain level).  Once that is done, then I am free to possibly switch jobs or move, but not before. 

When I was young, Guy-BF and I had a plan to move to Montreal together.  Then it took him 6 or 7 years to finish his degree (he just *had* to get two of them, and then two masters, what a smarty-pants), so the plan fell apart.  I have always romaticied this city, since I have dated more than one Montreal-ian.  I love the subway system, the old architecture, the incredible music scene, the French influence, and, of course, all the sexy Francophones!  I have considered moving there before, but then I found a long term partner and knew that would not happen while we were together.  We split almost two years ago, and now, technically, I am free to go wherever I want.  Technically.

Chick-BF seemed pretty uncomfortable when I brought up the idea of moving to Montreal.  I would be even farther away from her (7 hours, currently).  She has two children, and custody of only one of them, so she will never, ever, leave the small town where she lives.  I, on the other hand, could never live in that small city.  Not only does my father live there (who loves me to pieces, but also smothers me, from 600 km away!), but there is also no music scene and not the same number of jobs, etc, that a major metropolis has, which I am accustomed to.  Plus, everyone I have met there was…  Well…  Not the type of person I’d want to spend time with on purpose.  Moving to a small town is not an option for me, I would explode.  Literally.

I’m not even sure I could get a job in Montreal.  I am an anglophone, but will be bilingual soon (I am to study French when I go back to school).  I know my French will not be the same as someone for whom French is their first language, so perhaps it will be difficult to find a job?  What if I move and dislike it?  What if I am convincing myself that I *want* to move, but really I’m just doing it because other people want me to?  What if I don’t move, because of all the people who do not want me to leave?  What if, big if, I move and figure out that I did not do it for myself (which would be the WRONG reason to move!)?  How screwed would I be then?

I have some thinking to do.  Luckily I have 6+  months to do it.

Who, exactly, is Mr Right?

Let’s get this straight: I want it all. I want a boyfriend that makes me hot; I want to fantasize about him constantly.  I want a guy who’s just as smart as I am, and that’s a tall order. I want a man who’s almost as tall as I am, or taller (I’m 5′ 9″).   I want a guy who is self sufficient and doesn’t expect me to take care of him and all aspects of his life.  I want a partner who is very confident; you have to be to date me.  I want a man who is financially secure enough to pay his own bills, but I don’t care if he’s rich.  I want him to look decent (I don’t need someone gorgeous, but I wouldn’t object either), and I want him to dress himself in some sort of reasonable manner.  I want him to behaive when needed, and be crass the rest of the time.  I want him to make me laugh until my stomach hurts.  I want him to have at least a few similar interests, and enjoy many of the same things that I do.  I want him to be affectionate, kind, somewhat thoughtful, and, of course, a good (and sometimes kinky) lay.   I want him to be able to cook, or, to love my cooking.  I want him to tell me how pretty I am at least once per week.  I want him to be the most fun person I know.

Most importantly:  I want him to fall hopelessly in love with me, and I with him.

Dating: A Full Contact Sport (First Post)

Hello all,

This is the first post on “Dating: A Full Contact Sport” by yours truly, The Dating Darling.  This blog is written in association with http://solargalaxy6.wordpress.com/, my dear friend.  Basically, this blog will contain many stories about my search for love.  Some of my stories will make you happy, some angry, and some sad.  But almost all of them will make you laugh.  They will show you why I call dating a ‘full contact sport’.  I am a 30 year old female who is looking for “Mr. Right”, whoever that may be.  Some of the stories are older, and some will be current.  Please feel free to offer advice or (constructive) comment.

Sincerely,

The Dating Darling