Never mind.

Conjunction: MUCH LESS, LET ALONE – used especially in negative contexts to add to one term another denoting something less likely.

Story of my life.



Verb: 1. Recognize the full worth of.
           2. Be grateful for (something).

“Don’t worry, my boyfriend doesn’t buy me lingerie.”
I received this text from one of my best friends after she finished learning about what makes me sulk in regards to being single. My initial reaction was disappointed. Her boyfriend is Parisian. I thought that at least the Parisian man would understand a great piece of lingerie. If not the French, then who?
This leads me to question: do women value lingerie more than men in this day and age? Are we so used to the naked body that nothing is left to be desired? What happened to the time when a man would recognize a garter belt and the slightest sight of it under a skirt/dress could set off a spark? Is this just another one of my fairy tale ideals?
I’ve yet to encounter a male who welcomes undergarments.  I used to enjoy purchasing lingerie with the intention of wearing it for someone in particular. Although, after being caught in an awkward predicament while wearing a new white lace thong teddy, I vowed to never again believe a man would be thankful for my efforts. He in fact stopped in the heat of the moment and asked me what I wear wearing. It saddened my heart immensely.I now rarely under dress in anything expensive in fear that it will get ripped in the hustle of trying to get it off.When one truly appreciates the delicate lace and how it hugs the body, they would be idiotic to want to rush it off. Why not leave it on? Certain pieces of lingerie can be sexier than any naked body I’m sure. A well made piece of lingerie is fabricated to accentuate a women’s body and it deserves some attention.I’d like to challenge the men of today to learn the lingerie typology and realize that naked is not always best. I would also consider proposing to the next man who gifted me with an impressive piece of lingerie. To the next man? Who am I kidding? There was never a first man to begin with.  Being indulged with expensive lace and satin is but a dream...




Noun:1. The action or process of recognizing or being recognized, in particular.
         2. Identification of a thing or person from previous encounters or knowledge.

Friday morning produced an amusing little story in my rather dull snowy week. Not having any milk in the fridge for my morning coffee was cause to rush myself ready in order to fit in a detour for caffeine. I rarely stop for coffee in the morning since I am almost always leaving late.
As I was waiting for my coffee, I noticed a man in line. I knew this man, but from where? It didn’t take long to realize that this was the same blue eyed babe I had met a few weeks prior while up north. The one with the girlfriend. But why would he be here right now at this coffee shop?
Being a master of making everything into a sign, it took me even less time to recognize that this MUST be a sign: there was no milk in the fridge, so I hurried in order to make this stop. I normally would have waited and gone to my favourite coffee place near work, but this morning I wanted to enjoy my coffee on the drive. This man lives nowhere close to me, so the fact that we are both here at the same time must be fate! We were meant to meet again.
As I was walking out with my coffee I had to stop and initiate a hello, “Hey, what are you doing here?!” He only looked at me puzzled. Perhaps he didn’t recognize me? After all, we did meet under different circumstances. Hair unbrushed and no makeup. He responded in French, he didn’t speak English. Oops. Before he or I had a chance to say anything else, I basically ran out, face red, straight to my car.

He clearly wasn’t eyeing me because he recognized me; he was most likely questioning why some strange girl was so creepily fixated on him.



Noun: A thing that rouses activity or energy in someone or something; a spur or incentive.

Some mid-week motivation fitting for “hump-day” (all photos are from Tumblr).
If only my Wednesday was worth being called "hump-day".



Verb: 1. Be incompatible or at variance; clash
         2. Having or showing confused and mutually inconsistent feelings.

Does everything have an opposite?  If everything has an opposite, then the opposite of there being an opposite of everything, is that there is not an opposite of everything. Despite your opinion about the exception paradox, I think it is safe to say that every benefit of being single comes accompanied by a difficulty. These drawbacks seem to be more noticeable the older I get, most likely due to the fact that more or less everyone around me is in a committed relationship; and getting married.

As much as I enjoy having a bed all to myself, sometimes, mostly on cold winter nights, it can get lonely and cold. Some body heat would be nice. Some cuddling would be nice.

I have never been a morning person. I don’t think I will ever be a morning person. For this reason, I set three
alarms. When I had a boyfriend and we shared a bed it was nice to have someone coax me out of bed in the morning. Morning team work is always a positive, especially when it comes with coffee in bed.

While the topic is on mornings, let’s add lack of sex to the list. This is a big dilemma in my single life. There, I’ve said it. No need to elaborate.

No one is around to appreciate your lingerie. No one is around to buy you lingerie.

I’m not trying to make myself feel better when I say that I have really great friends. I can’t help what’s true. However, having really great friends sometimes just doesn’t compare to having a boyfriend. Particularly when the good friends have their own boyfriends. A boyfriend is like a permanent partner in crime. He won’t ever turn you down when you really want to go see that certain movie no matter how dumb it looks and he won’t ever say no to last minute Sunday brunch when you’re craving blueberry pancakes (even if he has eaten breakfast already). Right?!

Being single sometimes forces you to spend a Friday or Saturday night alone while everyone else is having ‘date night’. This usually ends with finishing a bottle of wine (solo). This usually never ends well for various reasons; frequently because of drunken texting (which you later regret) and/or waking up with a massive wine hangover.

Last year I attended seven weddings. You would think that being single and attending weddings would be a fun occasion. After all, isn’t a wedding the ultimate place to meet other singles? NO. Attending weddings on your own once you reach a certain age is anything but fun. At least every second person has some sort of comment about when your turn will come. Furthermore, if you are caught on the dance floor when a love song comes on you are required to walk back to your seat in shame as everyone else couple’s up.

Sometimes being the third, or fifth, or seventh wheel just isn’t appealing.

Woe is me. Time to wrap up my tirade about why I hate being single. My constant inconsistency causes me to question myself. Am I happy being single (as I think I am), or am I merely trying to convince myself?