5.27.2013

Lush.



Urban Dictionary: one who becomes intoxicated after a few drinks and flirts with everyone.

When you receive your best friend back from Thailand after a three week adventure, one would automatically assume these are terms for celebration. When her absence included her birthday, one would take for granted that the festivities would be trouble. I always find it extremely entertaining to think back (remembering as much as I can) on one of these nights unfolding. Everything begins pretty tame. Standing around whatever club you’re at, sipping those first drinks. I won’t lie, this sober launch into the night usually involves excessiv people scrutinizing. But what else is there to do while you’re sober? You can’t help but be annoyed at the group of people constantly bumping into you with their dance moves. And of course there are no potential husbands (kidding) to speak with in your vicinity. Luckily you’re with your best friend, so none of these negatives are causing too much of a threat to the night. The vodka shots slowly start to kick in and your stance goes from looking semi-bored to I’m-starting-to-not-care-about-the-dancing-group-invading-my-space anymore. Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I feel like the next thing you know your (single) white girl wasted. If you catch me out while sober you will most likely find me quiet and shy; I am true to my cancer (zodiac) sign and reside in my shell. Put a little alcohol in my system and I morph into believing I am the coolest person ever, talking to anyone who will listen.
The morning after the night before this past Saturday, I realized that none of these escapades would be possible without the DJ (of course mixed with the vodka, JD, tequila, gin et cetera). Without the DJ there would be no background to our drunken debaucheries; there would be no accompaniment to the drunken make out sessions occurring on the dance floor (don’t act like you’ve never done it); and in the end there would be no reason for the (excuse me while I say lame) males to work up the courage to ask a girl to dance. Note to the males: don’t ever ask a girl to dance at a club, this isn’t high school. I came to these realizations as I lay in bed feeling the effects of the previous night while scrolling through my phone pictures trying to gain recollection of what went down. What I encountered were some funny pictures of the DJ and quite the entertaining video. I half panicked, had I even said goodbye?


So Ben, I would like to thank you for always letting me stash my coat in your DJ booth; for putting up with drunken girl stupidities night after night and always keeping a smile on your face; for allowing me to take photos of you in addition to blinding you with my video light. But most of all for providing a backdrop for the nights I can hardly remember with the friends I’ll never forget. 

PS – the girl in the video is of course my (drunk) not so single anymore best friend; tallying the count of my single friends to practically extinct.
Merde.





5.21.2013

Vanquish.


Verb: Defeat thoroughly.

What happens when we fail to realize what is in front of us? We lose.

Once upon a time I met the greatest guy I will probably ever encounter. We worked together, and although I am now certain that he liked me more, the feelings were fairly mutual. Nothing concrete ever came of it, although we lived a dreamy imaginary love affair for quite some time. He was, unfortunately, rather younger than me and very very shy. I assume that I never pursued things fully because of the age difference. When a female is twenty-five and the male only twenty-one, I can’t help but assume that their lives are not on the same chapter. At the same time I often wondered what a young guy with so much potential saw in me. He was still in school, and his part time job was my full time job. I had no idea what I wanted in life, and was still hung up on my ex-boyfriend. What could I offer him?
Regardless, he romanced me in ways I had never experienced before. One of my many faults is I always want what I can’t (don’t) have. When I have a great guy in my life, I want him to be less available and more dominant. In reality, I think he was too good for me. At that time anyway. I didn’t appreciate him like I should have, and my response was excessively neutral.
Last week I invited him to a mutual friend’s birthday. We most likely haven’t seen each other in at least two years, although we frequently and sporadically text message. He didn’t answer me for forty-eight hours, and when I finally  asked why he was ignoring me, he apologized and said he didn’t think it was a good idea.

I envisioned him showing up anyways.
But he never did.
Merde.

5.20.2013

Yes.



Noun: An affirmative answer or decision. 

I’ve decided this is will be my word for the summer. 
So here I am feeling a little rough considering I have said yes to all invitations this week, meaning I’ve been out every night since Thursday. If you know me at all, you will know that this is extremely out of the ordinary for me. I like to stay home, I like my eight hours of sleep, I like to go to the gym early weekend mornings; no wonder I'm single. But this summer will be different because my plan is to say yes to everything...OK, maybe ninety percent of the time because one hundred percent of anything is never fun. So ask me out, I dare you.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that this challenge I’m testing myself with might not always end well. Thursday night while out for drinks and food, I found myself waving to random guys as they walked by the lounge we were at. I’m not a creep, they waved first through the window and I assumed a wave was equivalent to a yes. I also figured a wave was harmless, until my (not single) friend beckoned one of the guys in after he lingered too long in front of the window starting at me. I give the guy props for actually coming in, introducing himself to me and sitting down; proof that some males still have balls. 

The guy was not my type, but I humoured him and was polite. I later joked that had he opened his mouth and been Moroccan I probably would have liked him. Why? Because there is just something about Moroccan guys that make my knees weak while my heart skips a beat. They always have way more charm and game than I can resist...

Merde.


5.15.2013

Role.



Noun: The function assumed or part played by a person or thing in a particular situation.

If you rewind and ask my past self, during my one and only serious relationship, what the most important part of the entire situation should be, I would definitely respond with something typical like honesty, or the ability to trust one another. I truly believed that too. Perhaps had I spent less time worrying about if my boyfriend was being truthful with me and more time in bed with him things would have worked out? Oh, except I didn’t always want to. Therefore it is safe to say we were not sexually compatible. As a result, I would say the correct answer is: sex is the most essential ingredient for a successful relationship.
Sex is the glue that keeps everything together. In truth, why would anyone want to be in a relationship if the sexual aspect of it is not satisfying? Sex keeps people happy, there is no denying it. On the other hand, why would you ever want to leave someone who met all your sexual desires? Sex is what differentiates a regular friendship from a relationship. Without sex, you’re just another friend.
I’m not saying that the sex needs to be amazing from the beginning, because let’s be real, at times that first encounter is just plain awkward. Furthermore maybe one person is more sexually experienced than the other; I see no dilemma here, please teach me your ways. But in the end you must have the same sexual appetite. You need to want the same things, if not, let’s be real; the one who wants more is going to go elsewhere to get it. There’s no faking it either, the truth always comes out.
In case you are misinterpreting my words and assume I am directing them to the female population to ensure they please their man so he doesn’t stray, you’re wrong. It’s a two way street in this game. So ladies, if he doesn’t seem to care about your pleasure, then you need to move on. Just so you know, sex is meant to end in an orgasm; for both parties. So if he's not doing his share of the work and you're staying, well then that's your loss.


Also I am well aware that it is not JUST about sex. Relationships are hard work (why do you think I am single?) and there are many different factors required in order to achieve success; including honesty and the ability to trust one another. I just think that if you start with a great sex life you automatically have a strong base to lean on. Why would you not trust someone when you both want and satisfy each other fully?
This subject is not really up for debate in my world; rather it is a declaration, fact, reality if you will. In order to not gain hate comments, I will agree that the previous sentence is merely my opinion on the matter. However, I can’t help myself and say that if you do disagree it is most probably because you’re in a relationship where sex is not the most important element. In other words, your sex life is not as good as it should be...

Please feel free to throw in my face that I am the single one who is missing a sex life altogether.
Merde.


5.09.2013

Stalk

Noun: A stealthy pursuit of someone or something.
 
I often find myself trying to remember the days when we were not enthralled in social media; it has become such a regular obsession that it leaves nothing to be desired. You meet someone and within five minutes you may know more about them through searching online than if you went on five dates (what, you don’t Google people?!). It’s like if we were to meet people naked. You can’t hide.
  I know as females, we are well acquainted with following people online without their knowledge (I always wondered if guys do the same?). I’m not sure if I should be bragging about this, but I’m convinced I’d be a certified FBI (online) agent if the position existed. I’ve figured out scenarios online before they even manifested in real life. True story.  
 Yet, I’m as clumsy as I am sly. Meaning I would probably be fired for leaving digital finger prints behind; sometimes far far worse. I’ve always questioned: if I unlike something I accidentally liked on Facebook within seconds will the person on the other end receive a notification? I surely hope not. To me, it’s like the five second rule when you drop something on the floor and still really want to eat it. If you manage to pick it up within those five seconds, you’re safe. I mean, a “like” seems harmless enough, but it’s hard to explain when you’re not actually friends with the person on the chosen social media platform.
 On one occasion, while searching for a particular male on Facebook to show off to my friends, I accidentally changed my status to his name instead of actually finding him. Another incident resulted in me liking the photo of a (stranger) girl who was repeatedly liking the photos of a certain male on Instagram; how ironic. Last summer I met a guy who was from out of town. While consuming a lot of alcohol, we seemed to really hit it off. He was cute, he matched my age criteria, and I think he was even a suitable astrological sign. To top it all off, his dog was one of my favourite breeds ever. This must be fate.  Naturally I gave him my number and allowed him to add me on Facebook so that we could keep in touch. One night while scrolling through my home page on my iPhone (in bed), I noticed that a (pretty) girl had written on his wall insinuating they had just seen each other. Now, in no way did I consider this wrong. We had only been talking, and after all we didn’t even live in the same city. But I couldn’t help my curiosity and so I clicked her profile, just to see. Well, I somehow managed to add her as a friend. Believe me when I say I jumped out of bed and almost flew to my computer so that I could properly assure myself I deactivated the request. Imagine how crazy I would have seemed if I suddenly became friends with the girl who just wrote on his Facebook wall? The next day I left work for lunch and instinctively checked all my social media outlets on my phone (because that is the world we live in...as if you don’t do the same thing). My heart sunk in my chest. The pretty girl whose friendship application I had surely cancelled the night before was on my home page. The cute guy with the cuter dog would never speak to me again because I was a crazy stalker. But how did this happen? I was sure I had annulled the request. And then I realized, somewhere along the way not only had I clicked add as friend, but I also requested to receive updates from her.   

I now understand how curiosity killed the cat.
Merde.

5.05.2013

Realism.



Noun: The attitude or practice of accepting a situation as it is and being prepared to deal with it accordingly.


“I like your tattoo”.
When I realized that I was the recipient of this comment I immediately stopped in confusion to figure out which tattoo could be visible to the male walking behind me. I think I even asked: which one? When he answered, the one on your back, I semi panicked at the thought of my tramp stamp showing in public. Granted it was later than three AM and not many people were around, however this is definitely not the tattoo you want to be displaying at that time of the night (morning?) walking down the street.
The young man and his friend accompanied me and my friend back to our car trying very hard to pick us up. He told me it was his birthday; I wished him a happy birthday. He asked for a hug, I declined. He asked for a kiss, I questioned his logic. The entire time I kept thinking, is this really happening? Do guys really think they can pick up a girl on the street at three AM? I mean, does that process ever actually end in success? I’d really be curious to know. Perhaps I need to open my mind and be more accepting of random three AM encounters?

Note to self: never wear those jeans with that sheer blouse again.
Merde.