Verb: refer to something briefly and without going into detail.
I have had the best Christmas holiday thus far and feel no need to write any further words for this year. Below are the most recent quotes from my TUMBLR likes that I want to share for my last post of twenty-fourteen. 
Cheers to the New Year xo.



Noun: serious thought or consideration.
This time of year always has me feeling nostalgic. As a new year approaches we are left to muse over the one which has just passed; therefore I hope the sentiments are mutual. Personally I can't help but feel somewhat sad, as is usual with (my) nostalgia. Distraught at what has ended whether it be good or bad, to some extent I long to relive it. I can remember feeling these emotions even when I was young. The last of the gift wrapping always had me in a frown. I guess this is just yet another demonstration of my connection to the past. Rather than yearn for (great) moments gone and question (bad) scenarios that cannot be changed, I want to learn from the past and simply move on.



Exclamation: used to express good wishes when parting or at the end of a conversation.

I have previously expressed how attached I am to the past. I often relive moments and situations wondering what could have, what might have happened if something would have gone slightly different. My predicament with the past occurs because of my exceptional memory and attention to detail. I literally can experience incidents over and over again in my mind.  I will remember the expression on your face from an exact moment; I could draw you a picture.



Noun: the man means of mass communication regarded collectively. 

It has been almost three months since I last ranted about social media; the timing seems good to discuss the issue again. The problem I am debating lately is, how much of your relationship should be incorporated into your social media life? At this moment, my percentage is low. It is safe  say that we have yet to disclose our situation online.



Noun: a moment of sudden realization, enlightenment, or inspiration.

Recent observations have me recognizing the pressure put on the male sex today. Expectations while single, more often than not, have the man making all the first moves. Approach her, buy her a drink, ask for her number, message her within a reasonable time period, ask her out on a date, pay the bill, text her you had a good time, etc.. When in reality, females are all about equality and being strong, independent and blah blah blah; yet we still require you to hold the door open for us? Contradictive, I know.



Verb: move forward, especially after reaching a certain point.

How do you determine if your relationship is on the right track of progression? I know that every situation is different, but it would really ease my mind if there was a set of rules to follow; a check list would be ideal. 
So you find yourself in a relationship with someone, but how do you know if you are succeeding? How do you ever really know if the other person is interpreting things as you are. It is all a little (too) scary to consider. Especially when you realize that maybe you weren't experiencing the same connection in the beginning. Does that mean he is three (or four) months behind your feelings?



Verb: have a desire to posses or do (something); wish for.

 I would like to formally apologize for my past thoughts. I may have been quick to judge the shift in priorities when one enters a relationship. I have been slow to realize that the reality is not that friends become secondary, but rather you want to just share everything with the person you are dating. I believe this happens more frequently with people of an older age. You tend to be more sure of yourself, of what you want and you are less likely to embark into something  if you have doubts. In turn you end up in a situation that makes you extremely happy with an extra ordinary individual.



Verb: repeat or copy out (a group of words from a text or speech), typically with an indication that one is not the original author or speaker.

If you know me, you have most probably heard me state that actions speak louder than words.  The contradiction is, I fall in love with words. For as long as I can recall I have been fascinated with reading and words. Highlighting in books my favourite passages and scribbling in note books and on post-its my preferred  quotes. I will always favour paper over technology, yet I now find myself collecting likes on Tumblr. I often scroll through, re-reading everything I once hearted...



Noun: activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a purpose or result.

I fear that I am the difficulty when it comes to relationships. The issue being that when you view me from afar, you get a certain impression of who I am (not). Actually, that is a lie; because when I am alone I am a different person. Independent and carefree, confident and secure. To a certain extent, I am happy alone. Mostly for the reason that I do not over think me.
It takes a lot for me to let someone in. I will be interested in you from a distance, but not necessarily make it known. You will sense there is some curiosity, but you may question the sincerity. This is because I am proceeding with caution. I've often purposely stopped myself from falling for people. I would rather protect my heart and sit at home (alone) watching Julia Roberts movies.



Noun: firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.

Do we ever really know somebody?

This was always my fear; how am I suppose to trust another person when I may not ever know them entirely? But really, it is a paradox of life which I am learning to grow through...

In five days it will be an entire four months since I have met 'mystery man', who is still around for your information. Shocking I know. How someone could possible endure me for almost one hundred and twenty days is beyond me!  The truth is, it has been the best four months in a really long time. Which has made me realize that I only crave writing when things are bad. Somewhat sadistic, no? I assume while things are good I just want to revel in real life as much as possible. It is also odd how I don't mind sharing my misery but I'd rather keep my happiness all to myself. Call me selfish, but I don't want to completely publicize my relationship. Ironic.



Adj: lasting forever or for a very long time. 
Do you think it is possible to be as happy with so much admiration in your eyes as when you are in the presence of your favourite musician/band. We can't deny that music sets the heart on fire. 

This thought comes after being at The Black Keys concert this past week. I more often than not find myself people watching in every public situation I am in; it was clear that the crowd was seriously in love. For those few hours nothing else mattered and not one person seemed concerned about anything other than the music. Some look awkward, swaying off beat, but every so often you fall upon a person so in sync with the melody, in their own euphoric bubble, and you can't help the goose bumps from forming on your arms and smile. Everyone has one common denominator: that look in their eyes. 



Osho or Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh (1931–1990) was an Indian mystic, guru, philosopher, and founder of the Rajneesh movement.

In fact a mature person does not fall in love, he rises in love. The word ’fall’ is not right. Only immature people fall; they stumble and fall down in love. Somehow they were managing and standing. They cannot manage and they cannot stand – they find a woman and they are gone, they find a man and they are gone. They were always ready to fall on the ground and to creep. They don’t have the backbone, the spine; they don’t have that integrity to stand alone.



Adj. of or relating to society or social relations.

There is no part of me that does not agree that technology has become a disgrace to the human relationship. The most obvious reason being that the majority of the population is typically glued to their smart phone; whether it be on any numerous social media apps or in a conversation through text. It isn't even unexpected to see someone walking while on face time these days. As of lately, I've become bothered when I am with someone, especially one on one, and they insist on verifying what may be waiting for them as a notification on their phone.



Noun: a widely held but unjustified belief in supernatural causation leading to certain consequences of an action or event, or a practice based on such a belief.
Over two years ago while in Milan, every thirty feet or so I found myself confronted by an African man trying to present me with a "gift" from Africa; a braided thread bracelet. Once tied upon your wrist, they would then (of course) ask you for money. After forty-eight hours of avoidance, we were finally trapped. I took it as a sign, handed over some Euros and made a wish. 



The ascendant (or As), or rising sign, is the zodiacal sign and degree that was ascending on the eastern horizon at the specific time and location of an event.  
I am ashamed that being someone who believes so strongly in astrology I have just figured out my rising sign today. I'm not sure why I suddenly felt the urge to discover this aspect of my zodiac life, but literally out of nowhere I texted my mother to inquire my time of birth. I knew the rough calculation, but I needed precision to be sure. If the internet serves me properly, my ascendant is Scorpio; and here is what I've learned thus far:



Noun: intensely physical orientation: predominance of the physical usually at the expense of the mental, spiritual, or social.
When I first met my ex-boyfriend (nine years ago), I was the complete opposite (physically) of his previous girlfriend. She was tall(er) with long(er) blonde hair, big(er) boobs , curvy and blue eyes. She dressed rather sexy, for a man's audience that is sure. I am quite short at only five foot three inches, my hair at the time was dyed very dark brown and freshly cut into a short(er) bob, my chest was nearly nonexistent as I was very thin and my eyes are hazel; sometimes brown but sometimes green. My style was, and mostly remains to be, boho-esque; something men don't comprehend. The differences between us shouldn't have mattered, however I was a young and insecure girl in her first relationship and often wondered how one boy could like her and me at the same time. 



Adjective: susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm.
That moment when you realize you've gone from being interested in someone, to genuinely liking them; more than friends. Last weekend while out for drinks with a girlfriend I found myself more than bored as some guy attempted to chat me up. When he finally asked if I was single, I said no. For once in my life, it wasn't entirely a ploy to get the uninteresting male to walk away. I was being genuine as I am truly liking the mystery man who has been around for almost two months now.



Adjective: too unusual, extreme, or indefinite to be adequately described.  
It has recently been discovered that I dislike the words boyfriend and girlfriend. Truthfully, I am afraid of labels. This goes back to my negative complex regarding relationships. In all fairness, branding a situation is only really needed for the comfort of others. If me and you (hypothetically speaking) know that we only want to be with each other; we are committed to the relationship so why should I need to insist on calling you my boyfriend?



Noun: a person, thing, or situation that tests a person's endurance or forbearance.
Turning thirty really isn't so bad when you celebrate as though you are eighteen with twelve years experience; which is precisely what I did. I escaped the everyday reality of Montreal with two best friends and arrived by the pool at the Sheraton in Toronto at approximately two PM. Seven hours later I was already hung-over. Meaning I was drunk, slept and woke up with a hang over by nine PM on Friday night. Dirty thirty never sounded so accurate.



The number equivalent to the product of three and ten; ten less than forty.
Once upon a time...
Truthfully, it was it last July, precisely one year ago. After celebrating yet another birthday single, I made an agreement with myself. If in three hundred and sixty-five days I was still alone when turning the big three O, I would run away for a year. Apparently I thought I could turn my life into Eat Prey Love.
Sunday, July twentieth, is my birthday and I am officially saying au revoir to my twenties. I honestly imagined this commemoration to be more discouraging. Especially considering I am nowhere close to where I thought I'd be when turning this age. The public school curriculum really needs to incorporate teaching young people not to grow up with so many time limiting expectations. My assumptions always had me married (potentially with a baby?!) by thirty. In retrospect, I am quite satisfied with that not being my current reality.
I like to think that everything happens for a reason and fate is true. Besides, it makes it easier to accept that I am turning thirty and still residing in my parents basement; it definitely would be the perfect time to escape. However, although I am (still) officially single, there is someone who has reminded me what it's like to feel those butterflies in your stomach sensation again. For once, I'd rather stick around to see what happens rather than run away...



Noun: a person's nickname. 
Somewhere between seventeen and twenty I predominantly stopped referring to the males I met by their true names. Instead I elaborated on some rather obvious aspect regarding their character, mannerism, nationality or look; voila a nickname was born. It just seemed easier when explaining a story to use a detail orientated adjective as an alternative instead of repeatedly clarifying who so and so was. This became a regular thing amongst my friends and I and to this day is still used on the daily.

A glimpse into our repertoire: 



Adjective: another word for crazy. An abbreviation that you can use to describe a crazy person.
After meeting a guy in Toronto last month, my best (single) friend spend the last few weeks texting, calling and face timing with this certain male. They seemed to hit it off and she was clearly excited when he finally came to visit last weekend. Let's just say things went sour fairly fast and ended with him profusely apologizing and texting her Sunday morning at seven AM letting her know he was leaving Montreal. As we discussed the unfolding of the events over sun and wine that afternoon, we were inspired to compile the top ten signs that scream CRAY.



Adjective: confined to bed by sickness or old age.

I've been in bed for the past forty eight hours; recovering from a uterine polyps hysteroscopy; sounds worse than it is. Although I'm still groggy, in and out of sleep. I've been staring at my computer screen for over fifteen minutes clearly not able to type out anything of much sense. What a perfect opportunity to share some current favourite quotes:

"A woman is not written in braille, you don't have to touch her to know her."
"When it's right you can't say who is kissing whom."

"When you stop chasing the wrong things, you give the right things a chance to catch you."

"If you're lucky enough to find girl who is a hopeless romantic with a dirty mind, you should hold onto that. Because she'll be yours at two in the morning and at two in the afternoon the following day. She'll kiss you where it hurts and until it hurts. And that's important. Someone who not only knows how to turn you on but also knows how to treat you right is someone worth a little something...and a little more than usual."

"I do not desire mediocre love. I want to drown in someone."

"He kissed like he was drowning and I was air."

Now to make sense of my distraction. Is it caused by the pain killers mixed with yesterday's anesthesia; or could my mind be preoccupied with a certain male I've recently met?



Noun: a pair of people considered together.

As Lana Del Ray sings, I am convinced that the world was built for two; sadly the older I get the more apparent it becomes. Visibly since more and more the ones around me are forming pairs and leaving me in the dust. Kidding, I take ninety percent responsibility for my single status. Regardless of who or what is at fault, it's increasingly becoming discouraging. To add to the long list of reasons why it sucks to be single, as of recently I have discovered something new. Groupons.

Somewhere along the way I assume I signed up to receive email after email of groupons. Rather than immediately place them in my junk folder, I tend to glance at the offers on a daily basis. The truth is, there are some really great deals out there. The problem is that the majority of them are often for a group of two. In all fairness, this halts my want of spontaneity as I can hardly ever make a purchase before first confirming with a friend if they would like to join me on the escapade. All because I'm single. When you're in a relationship you have a constant plus one. Even if the boyfriend may not want to participate in the sunset picnic dinner included with an afternoon of horseback riding, sexual favors can always sway a man ;)

I'm considering making some purchases and attempting to use them alone. Why should the couples have all the fun?

Wine tasting for one please.

What are you doing this weekend? I'm going on a romantic getaway by myself.

I know the meal is for two, can't you see my imaginary boyfriend?!




Adjective: agitated, impatient, or restless.

The essence of my feelings as of lately. I've been aching for the days to go by faster yet I complain that time goes by too quick. I crave spontaneity although I'm addicted to everyday routine. House Hunters International is the excitement I get in a day. I need a surprise.
I'm surrounded by plans of weddings and babies; and I'm just here. Or so it seems. I'm not bitter, just bored. Isn't there a saying, you're not bored you're boring? I guess I could be boring? Through all of this, you'll never believe what bothers me the most...my deceased sex life. Isn't it sad to be wasting your days without it? Maybe that is exactly my problem. Lack of love. Did you know that in order for personal growth one should receive ten hugs per day? My endorphins need releasing.
Conclusion: I need a man to occupy my feelings... ;)



Origin French. Noun: fear, dread, fright.

What would life be like if fear was invisible? I often find myself in the middle of a situation questioning why I was scared in the first place. Technically I am not entirely at fault; fear is an emotion provoked by intimidation. The consequence is a shift in brain and body function which ultimately leads to a change in behaviour. Therefore I'd like to conclude that fear is an uncontrollable sentiment; I've always believed that humans cannot control their feelings (yet we try so hard to). So the real question is, why am I threatened by dating, relationships and love?
As discussed yesterday with a (newly engaged) good friend, we've all experienced that one horrible break up. The one where you felt like life was ending and there was no way you could move on. The one that broke your heart into a million little pieces and it seemed like forever before they were band aid together again. Of course this occurrence would cause one to cage their heart up, shielding it from ever coming close to that vulnerability again. BUT, we do not control our feelings, therefore we all go through heartache again. Numerous times even. I like to say that I don't make the same mistake twice; I make it three, four, even five times over again. Every time surviving.

So why am I still protecting my heart with so much force?



Noun: a weight hung from a fixed point so that it can swing freely backward and forward.

"My heart swings back and forth between the need for routine and the urge to run."



Noun: someone who obtains pleasure from receiving punishment.

If there is one lesson to learn as I've grown up a few inches, is this: if your closest surrounding people do not like the person you are dating, there are probably sufficient grounds for disapproval. If I could go back and tell my (younger) self one thing, it would be that. I'll tell myself now as well.
Someone who is blind makes up for their deficiency with the other senses. A person in love is blinded, yet, rather than have a heightened intelligence elsewhere, they actually lose something; usually their common sense. The ones who support you, the family and friends, are your lost sense. They see things you make excuses for.
The amount of smart females I see (me included) chasing guys who will never love them like they want is absurd. When did we become so dumb? Didn't our mother's raise us better? I know mine did. Let's not forget the number of men who have succumbed to an overly protective girlfriend/wife who no longer "allows" him to hang out with his friend of forever; whip it real good.

You know you have a problem when it is so evident just through the words on your blog that your friend who lives in Paris tells you he sounds like a waste of time and you can do better. Yet you're still dreaming of the one you can never have...




Noun: a person, especially a child, who cries readily for very little reason. A person who complains too much.

When did men become so sensitive? You write a few words about someone and they take it so personal. Is it really that offending? The intention is not to hurt somebody's feelings; there really is no purpose other than I'm single and I like to write.
My main concern is what a small, small world Montreal is. I would bet money (and I hardly know how to gamble) that it is near impossible to meet someone in this city who isn't somehow connected to you. They will always be someone's brother's ex-girlfriend's cousin in law; or something.
Having spent the past weekend in Toronto truly made me realize what a condense place it is we live in here (MTL). Toronto seems to be full of oh so yummy guys who  know how to play with eye contact and keep a girl on edge; they also seem to pick the perfectly appropriate moment to pounce. I'm so bored of Montreal and slowly losing hope.
I can't help but wonder if I'm risking staying single forever by staying in this city.

Especially if  the men continue to get insulted by my blog...



Adjective: (of a person or action) showing a lack of experience, wisdom, or judgement.

Dear men of the world,
Do you legitimately believe you get a free pass because "it's Vegas"? I understand that it (Vegas) doesn't feel like real life, but it is. I could possibly try to understand had the encounter been a onetime thing, no phone numbers exchanged. But when you program my digits into your phone and text me your name so I have yours, you definitely just crossed the "it's Vegas" excuse line. Especially when you continue to text me throughout the next three days (in Vegas). Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining per say, just doing my best to comprehend the male mind; a problem solving skill I will never succeed at.
I decided to put the man to the test. I was always taught not to make assumptions; therefore it would be unjust to presume that he definitely had a girlfriend. I also needed to determine if it would be necessary to schedule a bikini wax before my Toronto weekend getaway. So one week later I brought what happened in Vegas to real life and put his phone number to the test in Canadian time. Clearly a happily in love boyfriend would not respond, right? Well, I received a reply. I even was given clear directions including time and day of when I should "holler" if I wanted to (no, I am not lying). The convo was short and sweet, he was working (bartender; how many signs are going to point to no?).
Since I love a good chase and was still not one hundred percent convinced he was off limits, I took advantage of this past Friday's girl's night (and three bottles of wine). I bluntly asked him if he was a married man; explaining that his eyelashes had been haunting my dreams and that if I was dreaming of a married man I would need to go to confession. He clearly stated he was not married and that I didn't need to confess. After telling him to prove it and that I would be in Toronto the following weekend he replied something resembling' I never said I was single...' but to come by his bar anyways. I said I knew it. He said it wasn't what I thought. I said that's what they all say.

Dear women of the world,

Do you really not know your man is a cheater?


Why do I always crave the bad boys?




Verb: accept or yield to a superior force or to the authority or will of another person.

Being a female in a Las Vegas nightclub can be best compared to a single mouse in a forest full of wild boar. Upon entering you are no longer regarded as human, but rather look at as prey. You will be surrounded and encircled by males within seconds; there will be no escape.
Our second night in Vegas was at Light Nightclub. We were overwhelmed before we had a chance to get inside, so once we did make our way to the bar we were in desperate need of strong drinks. Yes we purchased our own beverages. I have a sneaking suspicion that my age has matured me into a woman who would rather spend her own money than uninterestingly chat with a guy for free drinks. Although this did not distract the men from swarming.
The first guy was solo. Though he claimed his friends were around somewhere. He invited us to his cabana at the Mandalay pool on Sunday; sure. He bragged about his friend placing a thirty thousand dollar bet on red? Does that gambling reference make sense? I can't remember, I clearly was not impressed.
The second duo was from Brazil. Initially this caught my attention as I imagined myself with a husband who allowed me to visit Brazil whenever I needed to escape the cold Canadian winters. However they weren't overly interesting  and one was a little too pushy causing my friend to call an emergency getaway.
Third time is always a charm. Two of my friends chatted up some boys as a ploy to get rid of the Brazilian men. I continued to dance with my third friend not paying much attention. Until someone pulled my pony tail; an immediate turn on. It just so happened to be one of the guys part of the charming third trio (I swear it happened like one, two, three) from Toronto (of course we would meet Toronto boys in Vegas).  After being introduced to the Drake look-a-like who pulled my pony tail, I was immediately hooked. Lust at first sight into eyes so blue I now understand the saying 'you can get lost in them', eyelashes so long I disregarded all/any common sense, lips so beautiful I kissed a stranger. When I witnessed a tattoo sleeve peaking out of his shirt, the lust may have turned into drunken love.

Coincidently I have a weekend trip planned to Toronto on May sixteenth. However, upon my return home I managed to succeed at my FBI stalking skills and I am quite certain that my Vegas affair actually has a girlfriend...douchebag.



Las Vegas, /lɑːs ˈvɡəs/ officially the City of Las Vegas and often known as simply Vegas, is the most populous city in the U.S. state of Nevada and the county seat of Clark County.[5] Las Vegas is an internationally renowned major resort city known primarily for gambling, shopping, fine dining, and nightlife and is the leading financial and cultural center for Southern Nevada. The city bills itself as The Entertainment Capital of the World, and is famous for its consolidated casinohotels and associated entertainment.

If you have never been to Vegas you will probably not understand how I returned from the city of sin almost one week ago, yet I am still recuperating. There really is no possible way to explain a Vegas vacation in its entirety and although I was (probably) not as wild as I anticipated, it was an absolute amazing experience. There was not an ounce of disappointment in any detail of the trip, from the hotel (The Mandalay Bay Hotel & Casino), to the restaurants (my favourite being The Barrymore) and the long (hung-over) trek through the desert for my lasting tattoo souvenir (at Downtown Tattoo); except perhaps the lack of sleep and stamina. The motto for our five days: POWER THROUGH IT.
When Vegas is defined as the Disneyland for adults, it is no lie. I imagine the look on my face the first time seeing the strip rather resembled that of a child's initial glimpse of the Magic Castle. Every part of your body is being over stimulated as there is so much action in every direction it is sometimes overwhelming. Just the mere recollection has me excited and stumbling over my words.

I expected to go to Vegas and party 24/7. In retrospect that was an absurd thought for four days and five nights. We managed to get out to two nightclubs (Light and Hakkasan) and one day party (Daylight Beach Club, a Sunday perfected by DJ Franzen with R&B and Hip Hop only, no fist pumping allowed). In addition, we got to visit the Grand Canyon before any real debauchery was able to happen; we even got upgraded to second row status at the Beatles Love Cirque de Soleil show. Thus concluding that the vacation wasn't all play and we made our mother's proud by experiencing things other than hangovers and more alcohol.

I imagine the saying, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, originated not only because of the worst behaviour one may indulge in while visiting, but because half of the time we cannot remember what happened in Vegas. The days felt as though we lived a full twenty-four hours; did we sleep? The hours are a blur and the injuries on my feet are evidence that they were lived to the fullest. The one thing I can't ever forget is the one who I proposed to while walking through our hotel casino at three AM to our room; drunk off double vodka soda's and way too many butterflies in my stomach...




Noun: the time or a period of time following the moment of speaking or writing; time regarded as still to come.

In the past years, I have stopped envisioning myself having a traditional wedding. Probably because I've attended too many weddings to appreciate the customs any longer. Although, to a certain extent it's because I believe that the meaning gets lost in the wedding. A marriage is between two individuals and shouldn't require any fancy adornments. Which brings me to my new found dream of eloping; I've always been smitten with the idea of getting hitched in Vegas. I imagine it is the most fun a wedding can get with minimal (if any) planning needed; completed with a bottle of champagne to toast with afterwards; glasses not necessary. Don't be insulted if you are family or friend, but I wouldn't even send out initiations. In less than forty-eight hours I will be in Vegas for the first time in my life. I will be accompanied by three of my best friends (seventeen years and counting) and we will be celebrating our turning thirty this year. What I had hoped for was to possibly be married (or engaged...ok at least in a long-term relationship) by the time I turned thirty. Fortunately, I am still three months away from that date.

Therefore, I have already forewarned my mother that I may come back married. I realized that I have (unintentionally) packed two white dresses. If I happen to meet a dashing man who (drunkenly) proposes to me, I may end up saying yes. Coincidently I will be surrounded by three of my longest friendships to give me their approval. I just hope we are all sober enough to make the right choice or else I may get married and divorced before I turn thirty.





Verb: To arouse hope, desire, or curiosity in without affording satisfaction

As I complained about a guy on Tinder who had been rampantly messaging me in regards to meeting I couldn't help but cringe at my listener's reply: But Tinder issss about meeting!


At this moment I was forced to face the fact that I am probably my own worst enemy when it comes to meeting men. For instance, it is time to admit that merely having the Tinder app is NOT effort enough. Considering that when I am not repeatedly  pressing X, the majority of the situations carry on as the below:
Like photo - match with male - male messages something lame like Hi, Hey, What's up or How are you?-  never respond. 

I can only be blamed partially as we have already discussed that receiving a message of HI is not attractive in the least.

Let's look at case number two. Remember the guy from a few weeks ago who practically had me out of my clothes begging for a second date? Well, he has asked; numerous time. I can't seem to want to give up my pyjamas and Grey's Anatomy to actually go through with it though. I'd rather stay home on a Saturday night watching Julia Roberts movies than go meet a decent man for a glass of wine. Can someone please explain what is wrong with me?

I feel as though I took a step in the right direction today and gave eager Tinder guy my phone number. My friend's brother played hockey with him years ago; he seems legit. The problem is he asked if he could take me out next Tuesday and I've already managed to compile faux plans. Tuesday is in six days, I can't commit to a decision just yet.

Whatever, dating sucks, I'm going to go read my book with a glass of wine in a bubble bath.




Adjective: made in exact imitation of something valuable or important with the intention to deceive or defraud.

It is April 2014 and girls everywhere are actively posing à la duck face; I doubt this tragedy will ever vanish. What really makes my heart cringe are those ladies who have moved on from this fad because they have invested in lip injections; leaving their mouths more or less in a constant duck face position. WHY?
Faux lips are increasingly becoming popular with ordinary women. Ordinary implies NOT a real housewife. Furthermore, the females undergoing this apparently easy procedure are gradually becoming younger. Montreal is not a huge city. I cannot be the only individual who has come across a photo of someone they once knew who now has a bigger (phony) pout. Again, WHY?
Dear women with the fake lips. Do you genuinely believe that your abnormally puffy mouth is attractive? Moreover, do you think others believe your lips are real? I am not against plastic surgery. I do, however, oppose extreme measures which leave you looking absurd. Regardless, I surely hope that your new lips give you the confidence you obviously lacked with your natural face. I will not blame you (entirely); let's allow society to take some responsibility.

I hope karma doesn't kick me for this one.



TV series: Girls is an American television series that began airing on HBO on April 15, 2012. Created by and starring Lena Dunham, Girls is a comedy-drama that follows a close group of twenty-somethings as they chart their lives in New York City.

It's Sunday, therefore it seems appropriate to (finally) recap the finale of GIRLS; mostly because I still don't know what I am going to do to excite tonight's evening before work. Furthermore, what will I review tomorrow morning to my office mate (who does not watch the show) through my own fits of laughter? I would be eternally grateful to the person who could suggest an equally entertaining show to fill the void in my life until season four commences.
I hate to say that this season was not the greatest. I went through a roller coaster of emotions when it came to my love for the show; although my disappointment was usually redeemed the following week by an equally amusing episode. However, I can't help but feel that I was just abruptly broken up with and left with a truckload of unanswered questions and confusion.
How will Shoshanna recover from her breakdown? Furthermore, how will she mend her broken heart? I sincerely think that she should end her friendship with Marnie who completely broke the BLC (basic lady code). Marnie is the ideal illustration of a selfish bitch. She's that one girl we all know who had a great guy (Charlie), took him for granted and ended their relationship. She now suffers unhappily by her lonesome while backstabbing everyone around her. Misery loves company. She just needs to go away. Jessa needs help. How does one agree to help someone commit suicide? I hope this situation is a metaphor for her to get her shit together and quit her addiction bullshit. She has so much potential. I'd be her friend. The majority of my thoughts regarding this finale are focused on Hannah. I was incredibly disappointed when Hannah got herself fired from her job in the previous episode. Granted it wasn't her dream job, but it was a decent job and she was good at it. She basically put her life on hold for Adam out of fear that he would move on without her. My initial assumption was that she would not go forward with school in Iowa as she would evidently not want to leave her boyfriend. The ending would have us believe that she will in fact go, but we still cannot be certain. I sure as hell hope she does. It pains me when females put their goals aside because of the men in their life. Obviously I am biased considering I do not have a man in my life and therefore my time is devoted to excelling at my career. My situation could very well have been different if the circumstances were. Despite my difficulties with being single, I can't help but feel that my (lack of) man issues are less stressful than finding a happy (secure) life in the work industry. Men come and go but work is forever?
Is it apparent that I'm trying to convince myself?
Today my grandmother told me to think of her; that I need to focus on having a baby. I now have my mother and grandmother working in unison to make me feel guilty for my single status.
In reality, I would probably give up my job for the perfect husband and baby (girl; just one).

I would be great wife material, if only I could find a ripe avocado.




Noun: A rule or directive made and maintained by an authority.

Do dating rules still exist? If so, can someone please send me a tutorial as I am completely clueless.

In hindsight I should really be blogging about GIRLS because every season finale deserves a conclusion post. That being said, I am presently trying to fight a cold from fully emerging and therefore do not have the mindset needed to devote towards GIRLS. But know that it is coming.

Speaking from experience (my own and the females that surround my life), women seem to put too much pressure on males when it comes to dating. In all fairness, it is not entirely our fault. It is as though we were born with the deficiency that comes in the form of over analysing everything. I believe that the majority of males realize this female imperfection and should therefore play as little games as needed. When it comes to serious issues that is, all additional flirtatious games are welcome.

So does that wait three days before calling rule still exist? When Monday's lunch hour came around and I had still not heard from my Friday night prospect I took matters into my own hands. His response was positive and we've texted casually since; but there has yet to be an official indication that he wants a second date. This really annoys me. Either ask me out again or stop messaging me. I have no time for mixed signals. On the other hand, I completely understand that this man leads a busy life and I'm not asking to be in contact all day long or even every day. I'm busy too and as previously mentioned I'm currently fighting off viruses, which takes a lot of time and energy. ALL I WANT IS A SECOND DATE. I am even willing to settle for a reference towards a second date. Side note: I always want what I can't have.

In reality, I am not even sure I would want to pursue a serious relationship with this man. In that case, I guess I should stop playing the game? There's just something about him that intrigues me, making me want to see him with this clothes off...
Is it time to assume he doesn't feel the same or am I being too impatient?

Have I mentioned that I hate dating?


Follow up.

Noun: an action or thing that serves to increase the effectiveness of a previous one, as a second or subsequent letter, phone call, or visit.

Could I be cursed? Being someone who truly believes in superstitions, I'm beginning to consider this possibility. Granted, it has yet to be forty eight hours since my Friday night meeting (date); I still can't help but feel uneasy. This past year has proven to be uneventful for me when it comes to first meetings (dates) as I have yet to have a second. I should really probably start dating more, but I just can't bring myself to do it; I actually hate it and would probably find eating anchovies more enjoyable.

I began this blog for the simple reality that I was discovering the single life to be more and more difficult the older I became. The trials and tribulations that come with this status is at times so unbearable that I consider remaining single for the rest of my life.

At this point, all I want is a second date. Is that really so much to ask for?!




TV series: Girls is an American television series that began airing on HBO on April 15, 2012. Created by and starring Lena Dunham, Girls is a comedy-drama that follows a close group of twenty-somethings as they chart their lives in New York City.

I have not reviewed GIRLS in weeks as I was determined to focus my writing on other topics. I'm afraid I haven't exactly found success; instead I managed to put a halt on my blogging altogether. Life has been in overdrive lately, mostly being work related. Weekdays that are overly busy they leave your brain feeling like mashed potatoes. The effect of this cause is afterhours devoted to nothing but pure relaxation. Lots of bubble baths accompanied by cups of tea (that may be spiked with alcohol) and bed time's being at ten PM. I also blame this never ending winter weather. Summer where art thou?

In this week's episode of GIRLS, Jessa taught me that sometimes you just need to dance around uncontrollably to feel better.

Should I be worried that I'm currently relating to a recovering drug addict?


Six Word Stories Sundays.

I forgot; it's been so long.


Noun: a situation involving exposure to danger.

I dreamt that I had an affair with an old boss. I'm unsure what this means exactly; I won't attempt to decipher the meaning either. At least I won't admit what I believe the implication is. Instead I was reminded of a topic that arouse awhile back amongst some of my friends: which is worse, emotional or sexual cheating?
I suppose the majority of women would say sexual and I would assume it is because it involves a physical connection. For whatever reason, females are threatened by touch and often over exaggerate meaningless gestures to an entire other proportion. I am not approving sexual cheating. However, I do agree that (sometimes) sex can mean absolutely nothing. Have you ever had a one night stand and never spoken to that person again? I admit that I have. In certain situations, sex can be just sex.
On the other hand, an emotional connection can occur even without a bodily relationship. It overtakes your mind and involves feelings. You may be keeping your clothes on, but your heart is completely naked. Words can illustrate more than any substantial action.
Regardless of which relation is worse, both signify that there are issues in the relationship. This forces me to appreciate just how hard it is to keep the bond between two people strong. Not only must you (evidently) remain sexually pleased with one another but you need to maintain that cerebral connection that was once so prominent. In other words, you cannot let boredom interfere in any aspects of the relationship; at all.

I have anxiety just thinking about it.




Noun: an occurrence that closely follows the pattern of a previous event.

Rewind several weeks ago. It's a Saturday night and I'm home alone. Due to a potential overdoes of Amaretto in my tea mixed with boredom, I re-download the Tinder app. I told myself (okay I promised my mother) that this year I would make more of an effort when it comes to the opposite sex. Could this be my first attempt?
I immediately change the age range of my male interests to thirty to forty years of age. If thirty-five year old men are chasing twenty-five year old women, I have no choice but to increase my limits. Besides nothing is sexier than a distinguished man who knows what he wants. In addition, I make a mental note to sometimes heart a photo I may not instantly love.
At first it seemed as though I was matching up with everyone and of course that makes you feel great. Let's be honest, Tinder is basing everything on looks and it's always nice to know people find you attractive. My biggest problem with this process seems to be when it comes down to the chat. I don't think it is so difficult to find an eye-catching photo, but trying to initiate interest through words is a whole different story. Small talk is boring. When the majority of conversationalists try to start with "Hi, how are you?" my automatic reaction is to cringe and wish I could retract my right swipe.
The main concern I have, moreover what I would like to ask people is, what your intentions with Tinder are? I question this because after matching with over twenty five individuals, only a select few have actually started a conversation. So what is your thought process when you choose to heart my photo? I guess I could ask myself the same enquiry. Personally, I hope that I could find someone attractive (to me) who would also peak my curiosity through chat; enough to make me want to get out of my comfort zone and actually meet them. If you are an avid reader of my posts, you are aware that this is a huge deal for me.

In essence Tinder in Montreal is just as unexciting the second time around but as long as I have the app I can pretend that I am actively making an effort. Right?



Six Word Stories Sunday.

She loved him; she left him.


Adjective: causing or feeling embarrassment or inconvenience.

“Cancer is the fourth sign of the zodiac, the first of the Water signs, it is ruled by the Moon. Its symbol is the Crab.”

I’ve discussed astrology before, along with my unconditional belief in it. I am the essential Cancer. A funny thing happens to me when I come into contact with someone of the opposite sex whom I find attractive. I freeze; almost literally. If I were a crab, I would undeniably retreat back into my shell. This change that occurs has become so evident to those who are closest to me that they immediately see the shift in my attitude.
Having escaped the reality of the city Saturday morning, the afternoon was spent in the hot tub with my best girl friends and wine. As the evening progressed the wine switched to vodka and a small gathering commenced. I am never an overly outgoing personality with those I do not know, but provided with alcohol and the support of those best girl friends I can become plenty rowdy. Singing off key and dancing around in pig masks to Sean Paul is how the night began.  At that moment the hot guy from last year showed up.  Bearing in mind that incident and its blog post, my attraction is no longer a secret. Being that my best friend’s boyfriend is his best friend, I’m uncertain how much of that no longer secret was revealed.
I turned mute. It’s not purposefully done. I mean, I sense the change in my demeanor but I can’t really control it. Intimidation perhaps? I become this quiet in awe looking child and find it difficult to participate in any conversation or game going on around me. Everyone notices and in turn my secret is unintentionally given away. This consistently happens in the company of men I find attractive making it appear as though I have nil personality.

Welcome to the story of my (single) life.