There's a frustrating reality for this single, straight woman: gay men.
This weekend is Pride in Vancouver, a celebration of all things GLBTQ2 and fabulous! Finely sculpted men are running around Vancouver without shirts and it's a total tease. Straight men don't look like that, and if they do, they don't talk to me.
In fact, the most frustrating thing about gay men is that they are the only people with penises who tell me I'm pretty, funny and have nice hair.
Breeder men never tell me that shit, and if they do, they're drunk.
So this is my thanks to boys who like boys - thanks for the compliments and calling me the next day. Can you teach those straight fellows a thing or two? Please?
Showing posts with label Stupid Boys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stupid Boys. Show all posts
Monday, August 01, 2011
Thursday, October 07, 2010
What I want
I'm getting a little sad.
Several months ago I returned from Europe with a spring in my step and hope in my pocket.
I sit here today with very little of either. I have lost the hope and I have lost the spring. And it makes me so sad.
The reason for the hope is starting to distance himself - as he should. It has been more than a year since we originally met. More than a year of being 8333km away from one another. More than a year of thinking about him and wishing with every little piece of me that this boy I met lived just a few time zones closer to me.
But alas he doesn't.
When I came back from Switzerland I thought there was a chance of him coming to visit before next year. I thought I had left enough of an impression on him that he would take a risk and fly across the world. Of course he didn't - how silly was I to even think that?
Pretty silly.
The earliest he may come here is March 2011. That would make it a year since I was in Switzerland. It's already been months without a decent date. And for all I know he is dating many women, or heck, maybe the reason for the distancing is that he found an actual girlfriend. Like I'd mentioned before, he's too cute to stay single for much longer.
I'm too scared to ask though. Too scared that he has had enough sense to move on, when I have not. Too scared to find out that I'm not worth waiting for, when I believed (and still do) that he is worth waiting for.
sucks.
Several months ago I returned from Europe with a spring in my step and hope in my pocket.
I sit here today with very little of either. I have lost the hope and I have lost the spring. And it makes me so sad.
The reason for the hope is starting to distance himself - as he should. It has been more than a year since we originally met. More than a year of being 8333km away from one another. More than a year of thinking about him and wishing with every little piece of me that this boy I met lived just a few time zones closer to me.
But alas he doesn't.
When I came back from Switzerland I thought there was a chance of him coming to visit before next year. I thought I had left enough of an impression on him that he would take a risk and fly across the world. Of course he didn't - how silly was I to even think that?
Pretty silly.
The earliest he may come here is March 2011. That would make it a year since I was in Switzerland. It's already been months without a decent date. And for all I know he is dating many women, or heck, maybe the reason for the distancing is that he found an actual girlfriend. Like I'd mentioned before, he's too cute to stay single for much longer.
I'm too scared to ask though. Too scared that he has had enough sense to move on, when I have not. Too scared to find out that I'm not worth waiting for, when I believed (and still do) that he is worth waiting for.
sucks.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
What the what?
My life is riddled with confusion - mainly centering around boys, but confusion nonetheless.
This latest confusion comes from across an ocean and several time zones away.
After Vegas, the one boy that was worth remembering and I became online buddies. We chatted, flirted, exchanged German pleasantries, it was nice.
Until I woke up one morning and he had disappeared.
DISAPPEARED.
The things is, all in all, I thought we had developed, at a minimum, a friendship that warranted more than a disappearing act. A 'Hey, that picture you have up is gross, I don't want to talk to you anymore." or a "Because we don't live in the same country, I am going to become a priest."
Anything really.
But that is the thing about random people - you have no idea about their real life. He may have been married or had a girlfriend or a murderer or so many other things.
And of course, while I know there is a rational explanation to it all, the first thing that popped into my head was, thoughts of his death. I had fears of being Miranda and losing a cute boy to death.
Ugh.
Yes, that is right. My name is Iris and I am perpetually perplexed by people with penises.
This latest confusion comes from across an ocean and several time zones away.
After Vegas, the one boy that was worth remembering and I became online buddies. We chatted, flirted, exchanged German pleasantries, it was nice.
Until I woke up one morning and he had disappeared.
DISAPPEARED.
The things is, all in all, I thought we had developed, at a minimum, a friendship that warranted more than a disappearing act. A 'Hey, that picture you have up is gross, I don't want to talk to you anymore." or a "Because we don't live in the same country, I am going to become a priest."
Anything really.
But that is the thing about random people - you have no idea about their real life. He may have been married or had a girlfriend or a murderer or so many other things.
And of course, while I know there is a rational explanation to it all, the first thing that popped into my head was, thoughts of his death. I had fears of being Miranda and losing a cute boy to death.
Ugh.
Yes, that is right. My name is Iris and I am perpetually perplexed by people with penises.
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Vegas' Y Chromosomes
There are a lot of guys in Vegas.
A lot.
Not all of them were ... quality men. In fact, while most provided good stories, only one name was worth remembering. The rest just made for good blog fodder. I think Andi got the brunt of the creepers - she is super hot and well, I just look kinda angry most of the time. meh.
So here, because I know you have all be waiting to hear about the escapades of Andi and Iris - who, might I add, are a bit like a girl buffet, something for every taste. Now, to the boys of Las Vegas.
XS
While we are walking into the club, some guy just tells us to come with him, so we do and we end up getting in for free - we'll totally take the $20 savings each - however, we won't hangout with you another night. We're just not that into you.
Just because you do something nice, we are not obligated to spend more time with you. Your generosity is appreciated, but that is all.
As we are sitting down, a dude sits on the other side of Andi and starts to create a conversation - being polite, Andi obliges, until he asks "How tall are you?" When she answered, his response: "Cool! We're the same height - let's dance!!"
Seriously, has this worked before? Is it a turn-on to be the same height? Odd.
There was the cute Swiss boy - he was tall, European and well, very cute.And get this - he wasn't creepy! Also, yay for accents!
Boys - being cute and having an accent will always work in your favor. Always. Although, Nein sprechen sie Deutsch.
To the guy on the dancefloor that wouldn't leave Andi alone - yes, I pushed you and yes, I would do it again. Asshole.
Here's the thing - if a girl is unresponsive the first time you try to dance with her, it is likely that SHE DOESN'T WANT TO DANCE WITH YOU. Don't try three more times, just move on. Idiot.
Pure
Um, Pure was BAAAD. The club was pretty, but the boys were a critical fail. No seriously.
Upon arrival, Andi gets stopped by an Aussie who wanted to 'mate' her. As he was holding us both hostage with inane conversation, he starts to talk about his search for juice in Las Vegas.
huh? I'm still confused. JUST GO TO 7-11 and stop talking about it with random people.
After we had broken free from the small Aussie, Andi gets stopped again, but this time by an older dude. This guy wanted to 'guess' which province and city we were from.
Again, huh? Is this a game that works boys? This guessing game? Because it shouldn't and if it has, you have been LUCKY.
Lavo
Lavo was our last stop of Tuesday night and thank goodness. The music was good, the boys weren't as bad and well, we just wanted to dance.
When we sat down, Andi was approached by some random. This time, his topic of conversation was her job. When she mentioned that she works in an accounting office, he asked for two two-digit numbers and proceeded to try and multiply them .. IN HIS HEAD.
You get that she works in an accounting office and isn't actually Rain Man right? Ugh.
There was the old man that invited us to his table for champagne. Seriously, he was there by himself, with a couple of bottles and half naked woman flanking him - the girls weren't actually with him, but were at the club and he invited them over for company and free champagne.
Gross.
Vancouver
After all the Vegas cheesiness, we were happy to be back in Canada where the men are slightly frightened of women.
That was until we were leaving Josh's apartment and two dudes get into the elevator with us. The conversation went like this:
WHEN HAS THIS WORKED?! I mean, I am a fan of cheesy lines - if you are playing them as cheesy. These dudes were serious.
So, boys, the moral of the story:
Don't be a douchebag. If you want to chat with a girl, make sure she's actually interested in the conversation. No one's asking for deep conversation or anything, but give her something she can work with.
Above all else, remember: NO ED HARDY.
Tangent: What is it with Ed Hardy - why is this brand around? Who is wearing this shit? Who thinks it looks good? Please, stop buying Ed Hardy and buy a shirt with only a couple of colours and no bedazzled accessories. Even if you are from New Jersey - this is unacceptable. If you are from LA, well, it is just expected.
Ugh.
Sorry. So yes, the boys of Vegas were a'plenty, but the quality of Vegas was lacking.
Badly.
A lot.
Not all of them were ... quality men. In fact, while most provided good stories, only one name was worth remembering. The rest just made for good blog fodder. I think Andi got the brunt of the creepers - she is super hot and well, I just look kinda angry most of the time. meh.
So here, because I know you have all be waiting to hear about the escapades of Andi and Iris - who, might I add, are a bit like a girl buffet, something for every taste. Now, to the boys of Las Vegas.
XS
While we are walking into the club, some guy just tells us to come with him, so we do and we end up getting in for free - we'll totally take the $20 savings each - however, we won't hangout with you another night. We're just not that into you.
Just because you do something nice, we are not obligated to spend more time with you. Your generosity is appreciated, but that is all.
As we are sitting down, a dude sits on the other side of Andi and starts to create a conversation - being polite, Andi obliges, until he asks "How tall are you?" When she answered, his response: "Cool! We're the same height - let's dance!!"
Seriously, has this worked before? Is it a turn-on to be the same height? Odd.
There was the cute Swiss boy - he was tall, European and well, very cute.And get this - he wasn't creepy! Also, yay for accents!
Boys - being cute and having an accent will always work in your favor. Always. Although, Nein sprechen sie Deutsch.
To the guy on the dancefloor that wouldn't leave Andi alone - yes, I pushed you and yes, I would do it again. Asshole.
Here's the thing - if a girl is unresponsive the first time you try to dance with her, it is likely that SHE DOESN'T WANT TO DANCE WITH YOU. Don't try three more times, just move on. Idiot.
Pure
Um, Pure was BAAAD. The club was pretty, but the boys were a critical fail. No seriously.
Upon arrival, Andi gets stopped by an Aussie who wanted to 'mate' her. As he was holding us both hostage with inane conversation, he starts to talk about his search for juice in Las Vegas.
huh? I'm still confused. JUST GO TO 7-11 and stop talking about it with random people.
After we had broken free from the small Aussie, Andi gets stopped again, but this time by an older dude. This guy wanted to 'guess' which province and city we were from.
Again, huh? Is this a game that works boys? This guessing game? Because it shouldn't and if it has, you have been LUCKY.
Lavo
Lavo was our last stop of Tuesday night and thank goodness. The music was good, the boys weren't as bad and well, we just wanted to dance.
When we sat down, Andi was approached by some random. This time, his topic of conversation was her job. When she mentioned that she works in an accounting office, he asked for two two-digit numbers and proceeded to try and multiply them .. IN HIS HEAD.
You get that she works in an accounting office and isn't actually Rain Man right? Ugh.
There was the old man that invited us to his table for champagne. Seriously, he was there by himself, with a couple of bottles and half naked woman flanking him - the girls weren't actually with him, but were at the club and he invited them over for company and free champagne.
Gross.
Vancouver
After all the Vegas cheesiness, we were happy to be back in Canada where the men are slightly frightened of women.
That was until we were leaving Josh's apartment and two dudes get into the elevator with us. The conversation went like this:
Dude 1: Where did you ladies come from tonight?
Us: Um, just a friend's apartment
Dude 2: Of course they were in the building - where did you think they were, the sky?
Dude 1: Well, angels sometimes fall from heaven.
WHEN HAS THIS WORKED?! I mean, I am a fan of cheesy lines - if you are playing them as cheesy. These dudes were serious.
So, boys, the moral of the story:
Don't be a douchebag. If you want to chat with a girl, make sure she's actually interested in the conversation. No one's asking for deep conversation or anything, but give her something she can work with.
Above all else, remember: NO ED HARDY.
Tangent: What is it with Ed Hardy - why is this brand around? Who is wearing this shit? Who thinks it looks good? Please, stop buying Ed Hardy and buy a shirt with only a couple of colours and no bedazzled accessories. Even if you are from New Jersey - this is unacceptable. If you are from LA, well, it is just expected.
Ugh.
Sorry. So yes, the boys of Vegas were a'plenty, but the quality of Vegas was lacking.
Badly.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Boys boys boys
I complain about them all the time. How stupid they are. How I can’t tell what the fuck is going on in their heads. How I wish I was a lesbian.
But I’m not.
sigh
So I am forced to deal with the drama that boys cause.
But they are so cute!
I don’t date a lot, which is depressing at times, but a god-sent at others. These boys, they take up a lot of energy.
Is he going to call? Did he get that joke at dinner? Why didn’t he try to kiss me? Is he going to hate the fact that I smoke? What if I really like this guy?
Oye.
But those butterflies you get when you see them or talk to them or touch them. Those butterflies make everything worth it.
All of the fucking drama and obsessing and wanting to become a lesbian is all made worthwhile when a boy you like, likes you too.
Sofa king awesome.
But I’m not.
sigh
So I am forced to deal with the drama that boys cause.
But they are so cute!
I don’t date a lot, which is depressing at times, but a god-sent at others. These boys, they take up a lot of energy.
Is he going to call? Did he get that joke at dinner? Why didn’t he try to kiss me? Is he going to hate the fact that I smoke? What if I really like this guy?
Oye.
But those butterflies you get when you see them or talk to them or touch them. Those butterflies make everything worth it.
All of the fucking drama and obsessing and wanting to become a lesbian is all made worthwhile when a boy you like, likes you too.
Sofa king awesome.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
That's what you thought
I was chatting with a girlfriend yesterday and realized something. My life is nothing looks like something I recognize.
This happened before P3 and I broke up. Some of it good and some of it bad, but truly unrecognizable.
Last Year:
This happened before P3 and I broke up. Some of it good and some of it bad, but truly unrecognizable.
Last Year:
- Doing the limbo with New York
- Single and loving it
- No job
- Kinda fat
- Working at the hotel (depressing)
This Year:
- Living in Vancouver - who saw that one coming
- Single and not loving it right now
- Great job
- Not so fat
- NOT WORKING AT THE HOTEL!
The thing that really bugs me, is since I have moved out here, I haven't been comfortable. Part of that had to do with my living situation, you see, P3 is very much enjoys renting a house and having others rent rooms from him.
I am not.
I like my own space, I want to get my toast in my bra some mornings and why shouldn't I? I have earned the right to nudity.
So for the past three months, I have been living in this situation with a boy I deeply care about not really enjoying it. Sure I got used to it, but there is something to be said for loving your life.
God do I miss loving my life.
And I did. I LOVED my life. Do what I want, when I want. Not answer to anyone or have to respond to any questions. Life was mine. UGH
I fucking hate breakups.
This is why I never dated.
Sorry, went on a tangent there. The really frustrating part of these past two weeks has been the apartment hunting. It is frustrating and depressing and may cause me to jump off a bridge - thankfully there are a few to choose from here. I have seen SO many apartments, most I hate but still can't afford and the ones I like, I REALLY can't afford.
How do people live in this city? I mean, NY, I got it, it is worth starving to live there. But seriously, Vancouver, what the fuck?
There you go, one more rant for the day.
And ... in the past week I have heard the same Beach Boys song like 8 times, when I don't actually remember hearing it more than once ever before. Why do things like that happen? Once you notice something, it keeps on popping up. It can't just be coincidence can it?
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
What is the matter with people?
I often wonder this. Seriously, what is the matter with people?
One of the many things I love about New York is all the men. I went on more dates in my one month there than I have in the last two years here. All is good right?
Wrong. The last date I went on was with this guy I met at the reggae concert. He was totally cute, British accent and totally cute. We chatted for a bit and then I gave him my digits. He called me a couple days later and we decided to go out on Thursday, Jan. 11.
The date was ok. He was a little weird. He works for the United Nations (yes, THOSE United Nations), originally from the UK, but recently moved to Anguilla. All sounds really great, right? It was, until he said grace before dinner. Hello, you are out with the spawn of satan, don't say grace in front of me.
I tried to move past the grace thing. But then he doesn't drink. WHAT!? I know, I am a drunk, and here I am out with a sober individual. But it was over dinner that he really got a little weird. He offered to pay my rent for me in NYC so I could stay. I don't care if you are The Donald, don't offer something like that on a first date. You might just scare the girl off.
We went out to a lounge and then called it an evening. He wanted to hang out that weekend, but I couldn't (nor did I want to) so he wanted to arrange to hang out on Monday and Tuesday. I told him to give me a call and we would see.
Call he did. Three times that night (to make sure I got home OK), once Friday AM, three times Monday and twice on Tuesday.
Guys, let me tell you , there is no need to call a girl this much!
The only reason I am even blogging about this right now is because he just called again. AGAIN! Can you imagine? It has been almost two weeks since our initial date and you have heard nothing from me. Don't call. Take the hint.
This experience is total karma. Karma for all those times I have been the crazy girl. (although in my defence, I was like 16 at that time, and would rather die than have someone thinking these things about me now. DIE!)
So there we have it. My dating lesson for the day. Don't make your unreturned call number higher than 3. If it gets into double-digits, it is just creepy.
i
One of the many things I love about New York is all the men. I went on more dates in my one month there than I have in the last two years here. All is good right?
Wrong. The last date I went on was with this guy I met at the reggae concert. He was totally cute, British accent and totally cute. We chatted for a bit and then I gave him my digits. He called me a couple days later and we decided to go out on Thursday, Jan. 11.
The date was ok. He was a little weird. He works for the United Nations (yes, THOSE United Nations), originally from the UK, but recently moved to Anguilla. All sounds really great, right? It was, until he said grace before dinner. Hello, you are out with the spawn of satan, don't say grace in front of me.
I tried to move past the grace thing. But then he doesn't drink. WHAT!? I know, I am a drunk, and here I am out with a sober individual. But it was over dinner that he really got a little weird. He offered to pay my rent for me in NYC so I could stay. I don't care if you are The Donald, don't offer something like that on a first date. You might just scare the girl off.
We went out to a lounge and then called it an evening. He wanted to hang out that weekend, but I couldn't (nor did I want to) so he wanted to arrange to hang out on Monday and Tuesday. I told him to give me a call and we would see.
Call he did. Three times that night (to make sure I got home OK), once Friday AM, three times Monday and twice on Tuesday.
Guys, let me tell you , there is no need to call a girl this much!
The only reason I am even blogging about this right now is because he just called again. AGAIN! Can you imagine? It has been almost two weeks since our initial date and you have heard nothing from me. Don't call. Take the hint.
This experience is total karma. Karma for all those times I have been the crazy girl. (although in my defence, I was like 16 at that time, and would rather die than have someone thinking these things about me now. DIE!)
So there we have it. My dating lesson for the day. Don't make your unreturned call number higher than 3. If it gets into double-digits, it is just creepy.
i
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Weirdest Day EVER!
Well today was .... interesting.
I live my life in a manner that is sort of mundane. I go to work. I hang out with friends. Nothing in my day-to-day existence is spectacular. And today wasn't spectacular, but definitely out of the ordinary.
I started my day barely scraping myself out of bed. I think this past week of not sleeping has FINALLY caught up with me. I have slept more in the past two days than I have in the past two weeks. So that part was nice. I get out of bed and decide to go consignment shopping. The upper east side has some amazing consignment shops and they all carry these brands that are unheard of in Alberta. While I didn't find anything, I am sure I will, as there are many more to hit.
I then went to the midtown area and hit Rockefeller Center. I saw the tree. Let me tell ya, it is FREAKING HUGE! This thing looks like it has been growing for about a million years and the consumerism that is us has cut it down to decorate it and put it on display ,,, ANYWAYS. It was very pretty though, and the star on it was beautiful.
Well I continue on with my day and call a guy I met on the plane on the way here. Really nice guy, a little older, and seemingly cool. We decide to meet for drinks. On the way to meet him for drinks I sit down to relax for a minute. While I am relaxing, I meet another dude. Again, seemingly cool. So we exchange digies and I think all is good with the world.
WRONG!!!
I go for a drink with the guy I met on the plane. We are hanging out, having a good time and then he drops a bomb bigger than the bomb on Hiroshima ... he non-chalantly informs me he is MARRIED!!! WTF!!! No, What the fuck! How are you out on a date with me???? It obviously ends there, because I am far too big of a believer in karma to let this shit fuck me up.
I graciously leave, thank him for the drink and go on my merry way.
I then go and meet up with random guy on the street. First of all let me brag for a second. He is a Dolce and Gabanna model. He actually has a billboard that I saw. Holla ... I went out with a model!!!! AHHH
This is where the coolness ends. When he wants to "Go back to his place" and I saw no he actually says "You don't know what you are saying no to" ... Ummm, yeah I do and I think I just did say no to it. What is with these people?
No wonder dating is so hard. You meet a guy, and you think he is cool, sure a little old, but that hasn't stopped me before, and well, he is married. Then the next guy is a loser model. What the fuck! There is a reason I have remained single for all these years, and today was the culmination of all these reasons. I never want to meet a guy again! EVER!
Ok, that is a lie, but next time can they not be married and not be someone with the ego the size of the Nortwest Territories!?
Thanks! I appreciate it.
i
I live my life in a manner that is sort of mundane. I go to work. I hang out with friends. Nothing in my day-to-day existence is spectacular. And today wasn't spectacular, but definitely out of the ordinary.
I started my day barely scraping myself out of bed. I think this past week of not sleeping has FINALLY caught up with me. I have slept more in the past two days than I have in the past two weeks. So that part was nice. I get out of bed and decide to go consignment shopping. The upper east side has some amazing consignment shops and they all carry these brands that are unheard of in Alberta. While I didn't find anything, I am sure I will, as there are many more to hit.
I then went to the midtown area and hit Rockefeller Center. I saw the tree. Let me tell ya, it is FREAKING HUGE! This thing looks like it has been growing for about a million years and the consumerism that is us has cut it down to decorate it and put it on display ,,, ANYWAYS. It was very pretty though, and the star on it was beautiful.
Well I continue on with my day and call a guy I met on the plane on the way here. Really nice guy, a little older, and seemingly cool. We decide to meet for drinks. On the way to meet him for drinks I sit down to relax for a minute. While I am relaxing, I meet another dude. Again, seemingly cool. So we exchange digies and I think all is good with the world.
WRONG!!!
I go for a drink with the guy I met on the plane. We are hanging out, having a good time and then he drops a bomb bigger than the bomb on Hiroshima ... he non-chalantly informs me he is MARRIED!!! WTF!!! No, What the fuck! How are you out on a date with me???? It obviously ends there, because I am far too big of a believer in karma to let this shit fuck me up.
I graciously leave, thank him for the drink and go on my merry way.
I then go and meet up with random guy on the street. First of all let me brag for a second. He is a Dolce and Gabanna model. He actually has a billboard that I saw. Holla ... I went out with a model!!!! AHHH
This is where the coolness ends. When he wants to "Go back to his place" and I saw no he actually says "You don't know what you are saying no to" ... Ummm, yeah I do and I think I just did say no to it. What is with these people?
No wonder dating is so hard. You meet a guy, and you think he is cool, sure a little old, but that hasn't stopped me before, and well, he is married. Then the next guy is a loser model. What the fuck! There is a reason I have remained single for all these years, and today was the culmination of all these reasons. I never want to meet a guy again! EVER!
Ok, that is a lie, but next time can they not be married and not be someone with the ego the size of the Nortwest Territories!?
Thanks! I appreciate it.
i
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