So. I blogged once. I said I would give feedback after every date but clearly I’ve been a major slacker in that department. I would love to blame my busy job, my love life or my extra-curricular activities, but really, I can only blame myself. La Blonde does such a great job at recounting her dating adventures, it’s hard to even add to it.

Here’s what I think so far:



Ultimately, I would LOVE if La Blonde could just find a way to be happily ever after with The Ex.
MAAAAN, this guy would do anything for La Blonde. He plans the cutest little dates and surprises her in
the most amazing ways. But alas, the heart wants what the heart wants.

The Russian just scared me. I told her to get the hell outta there ASAP and thankfully she did. This blog is
a funny one but if I can sober things up for a minute, it’s to warn ladies (and I guess guys too) out there to watch for the online dating creeps. I know it’s common knowledge but some people can be easily swayed to “meeting up for tea at his place”. Ew. Creep.

Dating colleagues can be tricky, but every time La Blonde mentioned The Coworker and how awesome
their dates had been, I only felt positive outcomes. They had some fun times, but it fizzled. And this just
reminded me to ask her what the status is on their work sitsh.

I’m happy it didn’t work out with The Friendly Giant because even though he seemed like a charming
man on the outside, I think he was anything but really. Plus, their date turned into a drinking at the
condo (read: I slept a mere 2 hours that night)… thanks, La Blonde, thanks. Love you!

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST… The Z Man. Well, where to begin with this one. I’m partly responsible for
this whole shenanigan. A friend of my co-worker (Z Man’s ex) saw the link to the blog and the rest is
history. Just because of the way this date came about was so out of left field, I thought to myself, “Shit,
maybe this is where the blog ends. Maybe Z Man is the one.” (my first thought was, “wtf, this is just a
Life 101: don’t take anyone up on their drama.” But anyway, La Blonde went on a few great dates with
him and had nothing but (mostly) positive things to say, but still… it was not meant to be.

So then came date #17 with The Hockey Player… who really, I have nothing to say about.

Stay tuned. Date #18 is right around the corner! A gym date! Sweat is always sexy....

As for me, since the last time I blogged, I fell in love. Hard. Yeah…….. no good stories on my end! I’ll be
leaving AAALLL that juicy stuff to La Blonde.

The Roommate xo

_Well. Before I begin sharing details of my date with Toronto's eligible bachelor #14, you must know that this man comes with a lot of interesting background. Allow me to fill you on all the juicy gossip. Eeek, I love gossip, don't you?

The Man:
Recently, I was contacted via Twitter by one of my followers - let's call her M - and asked if I was interested in being set up on a date with her ex boyfriend. Dangerous territory? Probably, so immediate red flags, whistles, bells, pretty much everything red was thrown at me. But I was curious/ desperate for a new date and blog post so, eventually, I accepted the challenge. I wasn't sure how this would all go about; remember she's never met me, has no idea what I look like, she just 'knows' me from reading my blog.  In other words, we pretty much became twitter bffs. From the way M and I interacted, (in 140 characters or less) it seemed pretty clear that she was no longer interested in her ex and that he was fair game.  But I assumed M had ulterior motives for our arranged rendez-vous and that it wasn't meant in a friendly, peaceful 'I hope they live happily ever after' manner. She just wanted to get a brutally honest review of her ex, and like I do with all of my victims... I mean dates, I wouldn't lie about my first impressions. Here's to a date with a twist...bring on The Z Man!  

Before I had the chance to let The Roommate in on my newest quest, that very night, she let me in on a little bit of gossip herself; her coworker is friends with M. When he had 'liked' my 52firstdatesTO Facebook page (which all of you probably should too, peer pressure) M noticed this, intrigued by the concept of the blog and offered her ex as a possible date, then contacted me via Twitter. Oh, the power of social media.  I also found out through my roommate's coworker that The Z Man is in fact a huge douchebag, in the end treated M terribly, broke her heart and as things got rocky between the two, M thought he was acting weird because he was going to propose...au contraire, he broke up with her. A lot to swallow?  I definitely had a 'you've been warned sticker' slapped on forehead.  Still, the news didn't deter me from wanting to meet the inevitable dick.  I tried not to judge The Z Man solely by what I heard, but to save my judgments for our eventual meet - because, well, that's fair.  Days went by, and it seemed like the whole set up had been dropped. Until I got a new submission to my contact form on 52firstdates.ca from none other than the infamous man, I'm not allowed to judge, himself.

As I reluctantly read through The Z Man's email, I couldn't help but notice his wonderful grammar and sentence structures. #Winning! Punctuation? Check. Proper use of your and you're, too and to, than and then? Check, check, OMG check! Lack of LOLs and hahabahahas, I secretly questioned whether M had hacked into The Z Man's Gmail account to make it seem like he was a well-respected, educated non jock. We continued to email and his grammar never slipped: I was immediately intrigued to meet this man more and more.  At this point, I was pretty convinced that no douche, no real douche could pull off such excellent writing skills. Right, bro?  Through our conversation, he admitted that M had suggested he go on a date with me just to spite him, and just to spite her, he accepted.  I was stuck right in the middle of this fucked up love/break up triangle.  They were both seeking evil revenge or some kind of twisted way to get back at each other for their lack d'amour. Lucky me. Still, he was willing to have me judge him, blog about him how I please, just be completely brutally like I am of my other dates.

"I'm looking forward to the blunt blogging. Have you ever gone on a date, either good or bad, and had no idea what the person across the table was actually thinking?  Maybe it didn't workout because I took them to all you can eat sushi and ate all I could, maybe my gingery stache was too real for them. Whatever the case, I'll usually never know what went wrong/right and I'll go forward with no personal growth or development. Be blunt as hell. All constructive feedback will help me in the long run and if I'm truly a dick, which I'm not, it'll make for a good read!"

The Date:
According to M, The Z Man was a gym whore so she had recommended on several occasions to touch his #abs on the date and ask if he would bench press me. Obviously fond of his personal trainer's bod.  Well, since I was on my I-hate-my-life-eating-bland-food-blows-big-balls diet and he curls weights with his fingertips, we decided to check out a sheesha bar on Ossington, and drink ice water. A no calories soirée.  With all the anticipation and build up for this date, it was the first time I truly felt nervous during my entire 52 first dates experience.  I was the only person in the city of Toronto driving with their windows completely down during an extreme cold alert. I was sweating in anticipation.  This truly was a blind date!  He described himself as the guy wearing a brown, deep V sweater. I immediately thought of Canada's first TV Bachelor Brad Smith, and his infamous "deep Vs" and got excited. I spotted him right away: his sweater wasn't that deep, and he definitely wasn't Brad Smith, but he was a Canadian bachelor indeed. 6'3, blondish/brownish hair, green eyes, built like a tank, arm span of a Boeing 777, nice smile. I instantly understood why M insisted I feel his #abs. Although, not exactly my type, I don't care for guys with Ken doll bodies and protein powder injected into their blood stream.  It's really all about personality. I actually mean that.  Stop laughing.

He started up a sheesha bong, and had ordered me an ice water, as planned. I was secretly afraid to share a common mouth piece with a total stranger and hoped I wouldn't catch a disease or six. Again, I took my chances and I'm here to tell you that my lips are herpes free.  Conversation went as smooth as butter. (Mmmm, butter) I found him to be slightly self absorbed, and obsessed with talking about the gym. But I soon found out he's more than just one large walking muscle; he has a good job something to do with stats/analytics, his speech was just as good as his written dialogue, his random witty one-liners really got me chuckling, and he sets goals for himself. He's really into fitness (no shit) he's a part-time personal trainer and to further his fitness 'career', he's entering a competition in the next few months. Could you get more vain than that? Probably not. But hey, a goal is a goal.  And I could probably use him for some tips on how to look like Britney -- pre shaved head mental breakdown.  

The topic of M did come up at times - pretty much because I would pry into that subject like a good Scorpio PI investigator should...I wanted to know the dirt!  As much as I tried to get The Z Man to act like a douche... he wouldn't. It's highly possible he was on his best behaviour for the sake of the blog, but in my opinion you can't fake douchiness. That quality is inbred, you're either a douche or you're not. No use of the words bro, bra, dude or yo, no calling the waitress 'babe' (fuck off, FG), no swearing every 2nd word. His cellphone was placed on the table and not once did he interrupt the conversation to check it. (fuck off, FG)  Even as I'm trying to get the dirt on M, he kept it so politically correct and polite. He didn't have rude things to say.  He just said it didn't work out between the two of them, that they argued often, and that in the end, the bad outweighed the good.  Chances are he could be a dick, but not a douche. There's a difference. 
  
There was a moment where I questioned whether or not he was gay.  It's only natural to question this, not only because of his female Ken doll looks and his flaring hand motions when he spoke,  but mainly because of his passion for being lathered up in oil, (probably by another man) getting an orange fake-and-bake tan, prancing around in front of a panel of judges in skimpy spandex booty shorts and strutting his stuff on stage to, I can only imagine, the "I'm too sexy" theme song.  Oh, and he likes musicals. M too shared her initial concerns for his closeted homosexuality when she first met him. I don't think he's gay, but it did cross my mind. So, naturally, I asked him straight up. He responded with a very hearty NO.  Convincing enough for me and we dropped that subject.

The sheesha let out its last flavoured puff, we were all watered out, and The Z Man finally grabbed his phone to check the time: it was a quarter past 11. We had been chatting for 4 hours.  And didn't even notice! He paid for the bill and we bundled up to brace Toronto's frigid winter weather. Ironically for once, the goodbye wasn't awkward: we hugged and at the point he told me he'd like to see me again.  I questioned whether or not this was a good idea, whether M would be hurt or angry or secretly stalk and kill me (please don't), whether The Roommate's coworker would come up with other reasons why I shouldn't date the supposed douchebag, whether the date itself was just a ploy to get blog famous.

So, I told him I'd let him know...

What to do? What to do! Thoughts? My guard will definitely need to stay up with this one. 

To be continued....

La Blonde xx

I can hardly believe that I've been on three dates with The Friendly Giant. That's like... marriage! But alas, after three dates, I'm just as confused as ever:
1. About his feelings
2. About my own

Let's begin. You can determine my fate, I trust your judgment:  We decided to go bowling (seriously, when was the last time you went bowling?!) I ventured out to his neck of the woods, to the west end's Bowlerama.  The moment we met, The FG warned me he was a little 'under the weather' and felt flu like symptoms coming on (like why even meet up with me in that case?) Either way, we still made the best of it, still ordered beers, still put on those sexy bowling shoes - he asked for a size 14, but who's noticing - and away we bowled.  I haven't gone bowling since I was a preteen, so I expected to be a complete embarrassment... but to my surprise, and his, I was actually a pro. No, seriously. I'm considering taking up professional bowling.  I nailed strikes and spares like I've been a part of a secret senior's bowling league for years. The FG's face was priceless, and there was a lot of swearing going on, on his part.  He's super competitive, so it was a riot to see him get all riled up whenever I'd bang out another beauty strike. I'd say things to get him going like, "man, I haven't played in years, I guess I'm just a natural!" and bat my eyelashes.  It was awesome.  

Truthfully, I was expecting a bit more flirting on the date. After all this was our 3rd, we've practically slept together, (albeit, fully clothed) shared very personal info about ourselves, made out... like I said, marriage. So what's the harm in sneaking in a kiss here and there? Hell, a pat on the head or a even a flirty grade school nudge?  Instead, I settled for a couple of high fives and romantic 'What the fucks?' whenever I'd bowl a perfect strike.  Oh wait, he called me 'babe' a few times too, which I thought was odd. I didn't take it too seriously, I figured it was just a tick, or a nickname or maybe he forgot my actual name and called me babe instead? Either way, I let it slide. The point is, I can't read him. And although it's intriguing, at the same time it's extremely annoying. 

After five rounds of bowling, I kicked his ass 3 of 5 of them, just saying, we headed down the street to good ol' Wacky Wings. PS. Did I mention that I'm currently on a really strict low-carb, I-hate-my-life, why-do-I-torture-myself, I-miss-good-food, limited-booze, all-this-dieting-better-be-fucking-worth-it-or-I'll-fucking-snap, diet? Well, I am. And where else to go and tease myself more than a bar with $14.95 all-you-can-eat-wings.  As, one my biggest challenges to date, I sat and salivated as The FG inhaled 3 full pounds of the greasiest, saltiest, juiciest most scrumptious looking wings I've ever laid my eyeballs on.  And they came with fries, no big deal.  Whiffs of greasy goodness filled my nostrils with every bite. I breathed in the calories and pretended like my big intestine wasn't eating my little intestine. I sipped on my lemon water. Mmm, refreshing! 

Now, isn't there some kind of saying where if a woman eats wings in front of her date she's either really comfortable with him, or she just doesn't care to like him very much?  Basically, you can't possibly date a man and be serious about him, if you're eating wings. So, I wondered if eating 3 lbs of wings in front a girl whom is on a death diet counted as him not liking her very much?

Conversation at that point, sucked. Between The FG's blatant food coma and the dozens of 80 inch TVs blaring out sports highlights, his attention was definitely not focused on the cute blonde across the table.  At one point he poked my ear, but that was about the extent of our conversation/ acknowledgment that I was still physically there.  Oh, and by the way, the waitress' name is 'babe' too. Ironic.

My water was done, his basket full of bones, crumbs and blue cheese sauce; we decided to get out of there. Interesting, for someone with 'flu-like symptoms' he sure had a good appetite.... The goodbye was as awkward as ever; (note to self; I really need to work on these!) we thanked each other for the night and at that point he leaned in to kiss me. For whatever reason, my gut reaction was to turn my face... so he ended up kissing the side of my mouth. And to make matters worse, when he asked me when I was free next, I replied with a lame "probably, never! hahaha".  He smiled awkwardly, "Uh, OK then. I guess I'll see you around."  Ugh. Way to kill that one, me.  I rolled my eyes all the way to my car, feeling like a total idiot. Obvs, he was asking because he wanted to see me again, right? I guess I was just a little disappointed that a next date wasn't set in stone, like the others.  So, a little later on,  I mustered up the courage and messaged him asking if he'd like to see me again soon (just to triple check, that he is in fact still into me) and that I didn't kill it with my sarcastic retardation.  He, without any hesitation, replied with a simple "Yes".  That was good enough for me.

We messaged a few times back and forth the next day, nothing groundbreaking, and then I didn't hear from The FG for five days, which is like a month in #singlegirlproblems land. I have a tendency to give up real easily on men, so just when I thought it was over between us, I received a message saying he was all cured from the flu. (Funny, I didn't know that the flu affected people's finger too... that's rare.) Well, the 'three day rule' was blown right out the window on this one, but, naturally, I was secretly excited that he had hadn't forgotten about me.

A few days went by and again, and nothing.  So, naturally, I gave up again. And then BAM...out of nowhere The FG offered random invites: "You should come to a party tonight"; "I'm going to shoot guns, you should come". No planning involved, just sporadic messages and random invites. Now, I'm confused. Is this normal dating behaviour?  Is it normal to be in touch and out of touch like that in the normal dating world? Shit, what is normal anymore?  I'm so out of the loop!

I assume he's still interested in me?  I could be wrong. Am I still interested in him?  I can't pinpoint what it is exactly that I'm not digging about this 'relationship' between The FG and I.  Why is it so difficult to maintain a connection, any interest, or excitement in a relationship that is still so fresh?  Maybe I should take initiative and ask him out on a formal date, maybe it's worth one last hurrah? Well, this may or may not be the last time we hear of The Friendly Giant.

Hmm, I'm going to go gnaw on my carrot stick now and ponder this one out.

Thanks for reading, and I would love to get your thoughts!

La Blonde xx

I’ve been delaying this blog post for some time now because honestly, the date went well… So I really have nothing to write/bitch about. Well, except for one minor detail. I thought maybe I was just being crazy, but the more I think about it, the more I am convinced he's... well, keep reading.

The Meaty Ginger is a perfect gentleman. Prior to our date, he actually used his fingers to DIAL my number and we had voice on voice conversation. It took me by surprise! When has this happened to you lately? Definitely a nice touch and major brownie points for The MG.  After 19 minutes of real live conversation, we decided a quick intro meeting would be best, and he even offered to meet me at a coffee shop right near my place.

My first thoughts; although he's a huge Chatty Cathy, this helped the the conversation go smoothly and effortlessly. It was almost as though I was talking with a long time friend. As the minutes went on, I noticed there was something remarkable about his voice. It was a little too.... pretty? I didn't want to say it, I didn't want to think it, but I couldn't help it: is he, could he be, a chance he may be... gay? I wish I had passed the phone to The Roommate so she can hear it for herself.  Either way, I agreed with the date anyway, and hoped it was just the infrared cellphone waves affecting his vocal cords. Work with me here. 

When we met up, he looked exactly the way he did in his online profile pictures (no imposters here). He was absolutely witty and carried it with confidence. We kept up with each others sarcasm in a comedy sitcom kind of way.  He offered to buy me my $1 small promo latte, which clearly means he’s not afraid to spend the big dollahs. He asked the right questions and said the right things.  In other words, it was a great first date! We hung out for just over two hours, and I didn’t even feel the time go by.

Unfortunately, all the while, I couldn't fully concentrate because I was having a legit full blown debate between the left and right side of my brain:

Right: "He's not gay...he's just got A LOT of female friends. And no real mention of any male friends......"
Left: "Oh, yup, no male friends? It's SO obvious that he is gay."
Right: "Wait. Did he just mention a fantasy football pool? He's straight for sure then!!"
Left: "Shit, was that a squeal? Checkmate."

And my gaydar blew up into flames.

His overly blatant hand gestures didn't help my right brain's debate either. Just to be clear, I love the gay community! But if I'm going to start to like someone, I'd prefer he be looking into my eyes for love, and not looking into my eyes to love my eye makeup, you know? Although, I don't think The Meaty Ginger will be jumping out of the closet in leather chaps any time soon. When he talks about his hockey beer league, I think "he's such a man!" But when he talks about how his female roommate met a pro hockey player at a bar once and the sheer excitement/shrill in his voice when he told her "tell me you fucked him... I tooooootally would have!!"  This. Remains. Questionable. Like, why choose to tell me that part of the story? 

I think I'm just as confused as he is. But the date went so well that I'm debating on giving it another go...what do you think? I mean I'm pretty desperate to find a match, but to date a potentially gay guy? I'm not that desperate... Am I?

La Blonde xx

_So, I read over my blogs today and realized that on a couple of occasions I mention the possibility of a repeat date…However, I have not repeated a single date yet.  What happened, you ponder?  Here’s a brief update as to where things stand/ went wrong with my last 6 dates.

Date #1 – The Joker
The Joker is kind of a joke.  We messaged each other for a few days after our date, even had plans to meet again!  That week, I went to Ottawa for a couple of days and we stayed out of touch during that time, but I told him I'd be in touch when I got back.  Upon my return, I messaged him something casual, just to ask how he was doing... and I got this,  “Hey, I’m good. So we're meeting with Mat and Chris first right?”   Ummm. Wrong girl? Clearly it was, clearly I wasn’t going to find out.  Peace!


Date #2 – THE Ex
He’s still around, he’s still wonderful, he’s still in love… I’m still confused. 

Date #3 – The Ghost
Well, he's not haunting my dreams and I never heard anything from him. Ever. Not shocking since ‘I’m easy’. Moron.

Date #4 – The Imposter
He clearly got the hint when I let him know (as politely as possible) that I just wasn’t into him. I checked to see if he was still online shortly after that… he wasn’t.

Date #5 – The Wild Card
Oh, wild card… We chat pretty regularly; all the while, he’s been trying to meet up with me again for dinner and to fill in the blanks.  Many unsuccessful attempts. I’m secretly losing interest. You can only tease a person for so long. But, I probably love you.

Date #6 – The Over-Texter
Of all the dates I’ve had, this one was kind of a disappointment. We had arranged to meet up this past Saturday at a pool hall not far from his place. I was going with my friends, he was going to come with his friends, again another fun, casual rendez-vous. So Saturday night rolls around and as time went on, no message, no call, no OT. Hmmm. I waited a little longer...nothing. So I got drunk, slurred my thoughts and had a great night.  1:41 am, I get this:

“Hey listen I’m sorry something happened with my nephew and we all went out to Guelph tonight… my phone died and I just got it now! I’m sorry!”

To believe or not to believe, that is the question.  The next day I got a slew of apology messages. Maybe something really was wrong with his nephew?  Up until last night, we’ve been casually chatting but with no real mentions of meeting up again. NEXT. I think the OT finally lost things to type about.

Date #7 – FML
 
So, there you have it. No repeats. And kind of a blessing.
Thanks all for being a part of my dysfunctional journey. Stayed tuned for more dysfunction!

La Blonde xx

 

_ Ever gone on a date, more specifically, an online date where pictures in their profile are in fact the complete opposite of what they look like in person? Welcome to my date #4 -- “The Imposter”.  This has never actually happened to me, in my dozens of online dates, so this was my first real photo imposter encounter.

 I'm not shallow by any means in the real world, (I swear, ask my mom!) but when you enter the online dating world, it's almost like second nature to be a judgmental, shallow snob. You judge people solely by their looks, followed by their height, age, profession, horoscope sign and how they describe their personality traits and idea of ‘the perfect first date’ in a little description box beneath their profile. If a dude writes a novel about himself in his profile; he's self-involved and/or desperate. If a dude writes too little in his profile; he's a pompous jackass, and/or lacks communication skills. It's a lose-lose situation. Basically, you judge no matter what.

 I was instantly attracted to The Imposter by…his beauty! He was beautiful. I couldn’t imagine a guy with such beautiful green eyes, cool style AND plays hockey could be online dating! This is a very rare sighting…

As we started to chat back and forth, I started noticing a few, slash, a million spelling errors (the typical your vs. you’re; their vs. there; who’s vs. whose, etc) and I sometimes felt like I was talking to a 15-year-old jock receiving messages like ‘helo, wat r u up too this wkend’.  But, again, trying not to be a shallow bitch, I decided to look past his grade three level grammar.

 We finally decided to meet at a location that was convenient for the both of us, since he lived way west of the city, Mississauga seemed fair-ish. As I waited anxiously for his arrival, I saw a man walk into the restaurant with a leather/pleather jacket, a full beard, longish-spikey hair and was definitely not 6’0. I thought 'this can’t be my date'…. Seconds after my doubt, the words ‘I’m here’' appeared on my iPhone. Enter The Imposter.  I wondered if he could hear my thoughts screaming ‘You are NOT is the beautiful man I saw online! Where is he?!’ Again, trying not to be a shallow bitch, I gave The Imposter the benefit of the doubt.

 Convo went fairly normal. We talk about our passion for traveling, our next Halloween costumes, our jobs, etc. I tried really hard to be into him. I kept trying to find the green eyed God I saw online. I swear, I think he had photoshoped his eyeballs to appear more perfect. Not to mention, his pictures must have been taken 10 years ago and he prob hadn't hit the gym since.

 Fast forward three glasses of Merlot later, I was way buzzed and ready to leave. The bill arrived, and no one made a move. 10 minutes later, nothing. 15 minutes, still nothing. Finally, after the waitress came by twice, I reached for the bill. It was just over 40 bucks. I mentioned I had credit, he said he did too. Uh huh. So, I threw down my credit card… waited for his reaction, watched him awkwardly grab his wallet and siffle through a wad of twenties. He then handed me one of them. “Here,” he said. Disgusted, I grabbed it and vowed never to see this man again. Not only are you an imposter, you are a cheap bastard.

 I’m all for going 'Dutch' and I’m NOT a gold digger, but I am a bit old school; you’re the man, you asked me out, you chose the location, you don’t look like you do in your profile pics, you pay for the 1st date. I will gladly pay for the 2nd and 3rd and 4th, should it come to that.

 Needless to say, there wasn’t a 2nd or 3rd or 4th.  He did ask me to go out again for dinner that week… I had to break the news politely that I just wasn’t interested. It took every ounce of my soul not to tell him to accurately update his online account, and let him know for the future to try and grab that $40 bill if he wanted to break free from those judgmental, snobby bitches from the online world. He just made all of our judging legit.

So, have I turned into a shallow monster? Or do I have the right to be a little peeved at this particular situation? I’d love to get your thoughts on this…

 Oh, bring on date #5… I can’t fucking wait.

La Blonde xx

I saw this instagramed Drake quote and wanted to die.  Because it is so damn true.  Leave it to the Torontonian...

The reason I capitalize THE in “THE” ex is because he is just that; the one ex who always stuck around. The one who was only a call away no matter what time you needed him, the one who wants to meet up with you for no reason at all just to see your pretty face, the one who would change his plans just to accommodate yours, the one you just can’t seem to keep away from.  

Some BG for you: THE ex and I dated for five years when we were 17 years old.  Like many teen relationships, we had our share of make ups and break ups and 'I hate you/ I love you' moments. But ever since the official break up –  we’ve never really stayed out of touch.  I promise, I haven’t touched him since 2009, and yet somehow he is still in love with me. I know this because he recently professed his undying love. Le sigh. 

On paper, THE ex is perfect. He's has a very nice, supportive family, a good stable job, he’s cute, attractive, smart, funny, drives a nice car (I'm not a gold digger but come on, this help!), loyal friends, he's a Pisces (fact: Pisces and Scorpio are a match made by the stars, they go together like white on rice) he has a great head on his shoulders, and a positive attitude on life. Let’s just say my friends like him more than they like me.

Overall, he is the perfect catch.  Easy ladies, don't get too excited.  

So what’s my problem?  I know what you're going to say:  people are exes for a reason… but is it possible we just dated when we were too young?  He wanted to settle down at the age of 19. Meanwhile, I wanted to go to Vegas and star on Girls Gone Wild.  We were just on two different pages.  Obviously now, my thoughts have changed. (Shit, I would hope so!) I want a husband.  I want a family.  Meanwhile, I hate dating.  So, what do I have to lose, should just I give us another chance?  We've both dated other people, but yet, somehow we seem to find our way back to each other. Shouldn’t that be enough?  All of these questions run through my brain, literally every second.  It’s quite frustrating. But, again, we did break up for a reason. I seriously do not know what to do. Another sigh.

The date: It went flawlessly. We both love to fish and there's this great little spot up north we used to go to many times.  He came to pick me up, with my usual Timmy's order waiting for me in the cup holder, and away we went... except it rained the entire time, like torrential rains.  (Ironically) He had the keys to his best friend's cottage which is just up the road from the infamous fishing spot. We decided to nestle in there. THE ex packed the cutest little snacks for our day trip; Friulano cheese, crackers, Italian green olives, spicy salami and two bottles of red wine. Talk about the key to a woman’s heart??  For hours, we sat on the couch, talked, drank and listened to the rain.  We chatted about our lives, our future, our goals, everything.  All the while, as the wine was flowing, I had to actively stop myself from leaning over and planting the biggest kiss on his, third sigh, great lips.  I just don’t want to go there yet, not until I’m a million per cent sure. Because if we date, we are getting married. No questions. 

That was the date. This is my dilemma. What’s my problem? Why can’t I commit?  It’s not like I’ve foundanyone better in all of the years we’ve broken up. What am I afraid of? On this journey, there are still another 50 dates to go. Is it possible to meet the man of my 'dreams'?  Or is my love already waiting for me with my medium two milk, one sweetner Tim's order in hand?  

Please stick around for the ride!  I'd love to hear what you all think about my love dilemma, or, my blantanly obvious non love dilemma.

Either way, stay tuned to find out more about who the eff I'm going to end up with.

La Blonde xx