_Break ups are never easy. We’ve all had them, dread going through them, find new ways to do them. No one enjoys adding another ex boyfriend or ex girlfriend to their belts. Some go over smoothly, others not so much. I’ve narrowed it down to the three most probable break up scenarios: Scenario 1: Couple breaks up mutually and respectfully, both go their separate way. The preferred, yet rarest of the scenarios.

Scenario 2: Couple hates each others fucking guts, curse the day they were born, cast voodoo spells on their soul, pray to the Lord they never see that person again. Awful, yet the super popular option.

Scenario 3: Couple breaks up, one of the two moves on to the next, gets married, has kids, buys an SUV while the other is still trying to find “the one” in the clubs, bars, at the gym and often questions — what the f just happened. Why am I still alone?

Yeah, my accuracy kills me too.

In Swoops Miss Late Twenties
I’m currently in a state of case scenario numero three. I’ve been thinking a lot of (one of) my ex boyfriends; (for those of you who are following this blog, it's not THE Ex, it's yet another one... Jesus, clearly, I need to find fresh meat) He was my best friend, we loved each other for years and years, he wanted to settle down with me and made that very clear. At the time, him being a number of years older, and I, still in a Girls Gone Wild stage, was nowhere near ready to commit. Naturally, in swoops Miss Late Twenties ready and willing and captures my ex boyfriend heart right from under my nose! Ugh. Now, I numbingly click through all of their happy, loving, joyous wedding pics on Facebook making me more and more nauseous with every click. As painful as it is to go through all 288 pictures of his “Us” album, seventeen times, I am genuinely happy that he had found just that… happiness. But even though we hadn’t dated in years, hadn’t spoken in years, I can’t help but think… “damn, that could have been me!”

Was I crazy to think that way? Maybe. Was I in denial? Probably. But months have gone by since they’ve tied the the knot and suddenly all these questions came rushing through me — does he ever think about me? Is his wife anything like me? When did he stop loving me, and start loving her? We were such good friends, we had so much in common, and truthfully I miss everything about him. So, can’t I just message him? What’s the harm in contacting him? Maybe I should express how I truly feel… I was young, and stupid, but I still care about you and I’m ready?

So, I thought: when it is acceptable to contact an ex?

Big and Carrie – Sex and The City Situation
The more I thought about it, the more I thought about Mr. Big and Carrie’s relationship à la Sex and The City. Mr. Big was ‘happily’ married to Nadia until he slept with Carrie and then, well, all hell broke loose, but in the end they lived happily ever after. In my head, writing my ex an email was a brilliant idea. Hey, if he was comfortable in his relationship with his new wife, then my little email shouldn’t shake things too much, right?

So, I began drafting the email… a flood of emotions, a couple tears shed and things left unsaid began being said. Respectfully, I didn’t write anything about getting back together, more of a ‘I hope you’re well, I miss you, congratulations, why didn’t you wait for me? I’m not a rave loving, beer guzzling teenager anymore. I’ve changed, I hope to see you one day.’ style email. That’s fair, no? I was satisfied with my email, was ready to press send, when I thought maybe I’d get a second opinion.

What Are Friends For, Right?
Well, I definitely got several second opinions and in a nut shell, I got called selfish, a home wrecker, insane, a waste of time, and the best piece of advice from my best friend: ‘who the hell do you think you are? He’s married and he probably never thinks about you!’ Harsh but point taken. All I wanted to do was express unexpressed emotions, have a YOLO moment, tell a married ex boyfriend how I feel and if it works to my favour, fabulous. And if it didn’t, well, at least I said what I needed to say, chapter closed. Moving on. In the end, I decided against writing the email. I wonder if there are other women in the same inflatable boat as I am. I wonder if the shoe were on the other foot and a man I once dated sent me an email of repressed emotions, how I would react? Flattered? Annoyed? Happy? Would I leave my current man for him?

All I can bank on now is the ‘Power of the Secret’ to magically bring us together (hopefully in a situation with a lot of liquid courage) and I will have the chance at telling him just how I feel. For now, I’ll settle for creeping his recently tagged pics on Facebook and hoping that one day when both of our little green online lights come on that he’ll message me a simple hello.

You were one of the best men in my life. You deserve nothing but the best.
Missing you like crazy. 143.

La Blonde xx

There’s a really nice guy that likes me. He’s told me he likes me, he’s told people that he likes me, he does out of the ordinary things because he likes me. And that guy is Gym Crush.  I’m flattered, but at the same time, I’m completely uninterested. At first, I thought he was wonderful – I wanted to spend all day and night with him. We shared the same interests especially when it came to fitness and nutrition. He would make healthy lunches for me and bring them to the gym. He would take me out for dinner to healthy restaurants, make me protein shakes. He took me under his wing and became my own free personal trainer. Basically, he did everything for me.

Everything sounds great right? Wrong.  All the attention, the flattery, the compliments, the food… it became overwhelming. And I never even kissed him!  Imagine what kinds of things I would receive had I slept with him?!  Gym Crush is content just hanging out with me.  He would talk about all this vacation we could take together and how he would work overtime just to pay for our trips, how convenient it would be for me to move in with him, how close he is to my job, how I wouldn’t have to pay any rent.  And, did I mention I didn’t even KISS him??  All this (to some women) sounds dreamy, but to me, it repulsed me. It’s too much.  He’s too nice.

Oh, there’s more. He would change his own schedule just to accommodate mine. He’d sleep at his parents’ house so that he would be able to pick me up and go to the gym with me; he’d make sure I didn’t drive anywhere so that he’d get to spend extra time with me in the car; he’d buy special food I like;  he’d wear certain clothes because I would mention I liked that look; he’d play house music, even though he didn’t like it; he bought a patio lawn chair because he knew I enjoyed tanning in the summer.

I felt smothered.  He killed me with kindness, and left nothing to the imagination. He was predictable and I could smell the insecurity on his sleeve. It's as though he was trying to buy my love. If I wanted to, I could easily have taken advantage of him (bitch, right?) but all this to say is that unfortunately, for me, this nice guy will finish last.

I told him straight up that I wasn’t romantically inclined to him.  I didn’t want to feel guilty for accepting every meal, every car ride, every ‘personal training’ session.  Yet, the gifts and kindness persued . At times, I found it almost pathetic. I've never been rude to him, and I would politely decline many of his offers, but it came to the point where I would have to make up stories to avoid hanging with him.  Why is it that women walk all over men who offer their undying devotion to her?  I don’t want to date an asshole, I’ve never been interested in them. But I also don’t want to date a doormat either.

So, a little advice to the men of the world: Please, have your own life. Do your own thing.  Have a backbone. Keep us women guessing.  Lord knows, if the shoe were on the other foot, and the woman was the one bending over backwards for their man… he would probably end of up leaving her. Or cheating on her with the independent secretary.  Unfortunately, it’s the sad truth.  Nice guys actually do finish last.

La Blonde xx

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

_ Last weekend I attended my first ever 'singles party'. It was organized by an online dating site and thrown at a popular night club in downtown Toronto.  I didn't plan to go, but my friend Lucia's friend couldn't make it as she was stuck out in Alberta by one of those common Canadian phenomenons called 'snow storms'.  So naturally Lucia called me - one of her only other single leftovers. Well, leftover or not, I was stoked to check one of these parties out!  Armed with killer pumps and a killer traveler for our way down (ya, we're still 17 at heart) and we were ready to scope out Toronto's most eligible bachelors!  

Feeling a nice buzz with a smoke in one hand, Lucia in the other, we approached our destination. "Hey ladies, you here for the singles party?" bellowed the bouncer. Why yes, asshole, we are. What gave it away? 

There was a lineup to get in, which always makes a bar seem promising. We were welcomed by a friendly lady with a clipboard who asked for our names and just before stamping our hand, she offered to bump us to VIP.  I secretly wondered if it was because we looked like the most desperate?  But we got free coat check and a glass of champagne so if that's what desperate looks like, we took it. Lucia and I b-lined it for the bar. Vodka Redbull por favor. The first thing I noticed was the variety of men and women in the crowd; tall, short, old, young, and all races of the world. Within three minutes, an older, larger gentleman came by to hand us a sheet a paper with a bunch of questions on it - sort of like a break-the-ice kind of activity.

"So what's the most interesting thing you've done lately?"
"Coming here", said Lucia as she ordered us another round.

Next, a handsome silver fox approached us with the same paper in his hand. He asked the question "Name something on your bucket list?" that stemmed a conversation about traveling and the world, life, and so began the interview process. He was very charming, and turns out he's a standup comedian at Yuk Yuk's. He gave me his card in case I ever wanted 'a good laugh over inappropriate subject matter or to use him for tickets'. Sign me up!  Within 6 minutes of being at this place, I got hit on my two men (regardless that they were my fathers age and one was obese) and asked out on a date. Not bad, I thought. Could be worse.

Lucia and I moved locations, and by locations we literally walked to the other end of the bar and assumed our positions. Twenty-seven seconds later and in come the next two prospects.  My dude was 23, cute, shorter than I, with a preppy look; vest and tie, clean shaven with a shaved head. Here's how the conversation went:

Him: "So how many guys hit on you tonight?"
Me: "Including you? 2.5."
Him: "Am I the .5?"
Me: "It's possible."
Him: "I like your sarcasm. Have you ever had a threesome?"
Me: (For some reason it didn't even phase me that he asked that question. I was more concerned about what part of me suggested I was interested in having one.) "Um, no. Sorry."
Him: "I just had one this week. Three guys, one girl. You should try it sometime."
Me: "Three?! Holy fuck. Poor girl... did she like it?"
Him: "I think so. She didn't really have a choice though..."

I wish I was making up this entire conversation, but alas, shit be real. At that point, I needed another seven drinks and wondered if Lucia's conversation with her winner was as riveting, slash, as disturbing as mine.  After he basically told me he raped a girl, whom by the way claims he's still friends with, I knew it was time to go. Time to go like a year ago.  I told him I was going to blog about him because he was good material and all flattered he agreed that that was fine. Maybe he didn't believe me. Whatever. Thanks, 2.5!

I interrupted Lucia who was deeply in the bag and aggressively discussing Croatian politics with her dude. We grabbed our coats, braced the wintery grossness and stumbled off to the next adventure of the night - a friend's birthday.  I could feel a blackout night coming on.  On a positive note, I did appreciate the fact that men actually had the balls to come and chat with us that night.  Lord knows, how many times you're at the bar and making eyes with a cutie all night, you think he's going to come by and chat, and then *poof* ...disappears into thin air.

Not sure I'll ever go to another 'singles party' again, but it was definitely worth checking it out.  We came, we saw, we conquered... nothing. Feeling an even nicer buzz with a smoke in one hand, Lucia in the other, we approached our next destination.....

La Blonde xx