You Can Leave Your Hat On

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He’s all:

I’m all:

This will be my Saturday, June 30th. I don’t know if I’ll EVER be able to blink again.

Follow me on Twitter: @Bettykiss

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I’ve Just Gotta Get A Message To You

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This is a real voicemail message (transcribed word for word) I received on January 1, 2011. I was Swinger’d, if you’ve seen the movie …you will understand. My only instruction is to read this entire post out loud for OPTIMAL hilarity. Enjoy!:

“Hi Arianne – it’s <insert his name here> calling. How are you. We met at the thing last night. Happy New Year. I hope you’re well. I hope you slept off the intense hangover from all the Jack Daniels *snickers* Um…anyway. It was really nice meeting, I really liked you. I thought you were really neat. You were definitely the saving grace of the party. When you left it was so boring. Man. Everybody left – not just me. Everybody did after you left. Look at that you killed the party… heh heh heh. Anyway it was really nice meeting you and really hope we do get together for coffee or something. Now I thought that if you were really feeling adventurous we could have lunch. Wouldn’t that be neat? You know, I don’t want to freak you out on a first date so coffee’s ok. Anyway, I would really like to talk to you so I hope you call me back. Um….I….actually remember most of our conversation believe it or not, I really was actually not that drunk. I just was really just spilling my drink on you out of clumsiness. But uh…anyway, I would really like to learn more and uh, give you a chance to know more about me and see if you think I’m cool. And if you don’t wear five-inch heels, you’ll have a better shot *snicker* cuz I can’t wear five-inch heels and get away with it. Anyway, I should leave you my phone number shouldn’t I? I have an unlisted number because I do the EMS stuff and I have a drop-in center for troubled youth so I need my number to be unlisted, um but uh, it doesn’t mean that the people I want to can’t have it. Um….you can pretty much reach me anytime because I don’t sleep and I do weird EMS stuff in the middle of the night. Anyway, whenever. You can call me whenever it doesn’t matter. Um…if I don’t answer leave a message and I’ll give you a call back. My number is <insert his number> , that’s <he says his number again>. Um…and it’s a new phone and I’m not sure if it’s working well or not, whatever. So I’ll say it one more time, <he says his number for the third time>. And it’s <insert his name here> for Arianne. Hope to talk to you soon. I’m going out tonight to a coffee shop near me. Sheesha bar actually. A coffee shop. Doing some drawing; working on some sketches. Um so if you call me in the evening I’ll be around, I can take your call. Um if you do want to come draw, you’re more than welcome. Um…but you have to be able to draw to come otherwise, coffee. *snickers* Anyway, I’ll be out probably from 9 o’clock on until then, I should be available I think. Um and uh…yeah, ok, take care. This is too long a message, isn’t it? <insert his name here>, <his number one more ‘gain>, we met last night. Talk to you soon. Happy New Year.”

*single blink*

…tha f*ck off my phone!

If you’ve never seen “Swingers,” SHAME ON YOU. But this is what I mean by being Swinger’d:

Follow me on Twitter: @Bettykiss

The Kids Are Alright

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Can we all agree it’s because my profile states I work with children’s toys? *single blink*

“Hi there,

I found your profile and yes it was intriguing, as a second city alumni and parent perhaps we have some paralells?

take care and have a great day!

Yadda yadda yadda…it’s ‘parallels.’

Get Into Reggae Cowboy

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Because somewhere between Jamaica and Nashville, I realized I lived my life…”

I had a conversation with a friend about another ‘potential’ who bit the dust. She asked: “Have you considered non-white guys?

So this was me:

She didn’t say it to offend me, BECAUSE she knows me, she was legitimately asking if dating someone who wasn’t caucasian was even an option. It didn’t take me aback because HOW DARE SHE speak these words to me, it made me sad. Maybe the real reality is dating interracially is an unnecessary obstacle that can be avoided.  But she used the term “non-white” which leaves a plethora of other races…so it got me thinking, “Is it just the black and white thing playing the villain in my movie?”  The reality of this is…I DON’T THINK SO. I mean,  it could be one of a vagillion factors, I guess? I can’t say I subscribe to it but I can’t rule it out either. She continued to point out I tend to focus on them (“them” being white males) and made a very good point that maybe the guy for me looks different than I expect.  Yup, he could be short, bald and 52 years old – but he might still be a non-black. I mean, who is to say who the right guy for me is. I have many single friends  – some who have types and others who don’t…but they’re still single.  Can it all really come down to a race decision? I’ve met a lot of testicles that were attached to wastes of skin BUT I’ve also met some really good guys and for whatever reasons, things just didn’t go my way.  Maybe because I didn’t sing it like Lenny….

But I digress…

A conversation concerning interracial relationships and me will never….EEEEEVER end. Why? Because it’s entirely too complicated in its simplicity.  I explained to my friend (not that she doesn’t know this already) that I don’t care what “package” the man for me is in as long as he’s delivered on time. I’ll put my focus on whomever makes my innards flutter and that’s a combination of all that stuff we want to in a significant other. She has a certain type too and I remember trying to get her out of her comfort zone was like pulling teeth – I believe you like what you like. Your stomach flip-flops for whomever it flip-flops for…if the outside presentation isn’t as appealing as you’re used to, they might have to work a little harder for you to see all the goodness inside.

To people who grew up in a certain household, whose environment had little-to-zero diversity, who were bullied for being different, who just have a certain set of morals for themselves JUST because… ALL of this makes us the human beings we are right now. And as life goes on, we’ll find ourselves in a million other situations that reinforce or completely conflict with everything we’ve ever believed.  I AM GETTING WAY TOO DEEP.  So let me break this down how this works for me and only me so there is no mistake:

I love mens. All of them. I will say my preference is to date men outside of my race. It’s MY preference and mine alone. It is not an experiment – I don’t believe that if I’m able to check three ‘white guys’ off my “How To Date Caucasians…And Win!” Checklist that I’ll all of a sudden not get spit on when I’m taking the TTC. I find my dark skin hella sexy. I love seeing my fingers entangled with a paler hue. To me, that speaks volumes. I think it looks so powerful, especially in the world today. It’s a beautiful thing when those hands are connecting two people from (on the most part) very different backgrounds and yet were able to find each other and come together and care for each other despite the added pressure of race and how others view it. You don’t have to like it. I’m not asking you to. You don’t have to accept it either. But little things like that, well that makes me happy and my happiness is something I’m going to put on the top of my priority list for once. Listen,

  • You like that guy because he keeps his hair shaved low.
  • You enjoy a European man with dark features BUT light eyes.
  • You like them tall.
  • You like Latin men and their Volvere hips.
  • You like men in uniform.
  • This dude makes you laugh no matter what.

Does this mean I can’t find compatible qualities in a black man or a man that isn’t white – of course it doesn’t. The black gentlemen who have reached out to me are men I cannot relate to on several levels. Having the same coloured skin does not equal instant compatibility. If I meet ANY man from ANY ethnic or cultural background who makes my heart a-flutter…trust me, you’ll be the first to know.

Until then, maybe I just need to find my Reggae Cowboy. He obviously has all the answers. *single blink*

follow me on Twitter: @Bettykiss

Chocolate Rain

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From OKCupid:

big kid here 😀 …im not going sleep today no no haha …or i will go sleep but 
maybe i will leave the door open incase someone comes…everybody crazy about me!!!!! 

little about me…i dont watch what i eat i dont care if i get fat…if your looking 
for someone thats fit and maintains a healthy lifestyle im not your type. …i dont 
even shower or brush my teeth everyday…i usually just fall asleep on my bed in my clothes with a mouth full of chocolate 😛

*single blink*

WHAT I WISH FOR:

WHAT HE’LL BE FOR REALS:

follow me on Twitter: @Bettykiss

A Little Less Conversation

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Me: I wish there were lofts like this available in Toronto.

Dad: It’s beautiful – this is what lofts should look like. I can see this as a two-storey, open concept. Beautiful.

Me: Yeah… I know I won’t be able nor will want to maintain a yard, my next place needs to be a two-storey, two bedroom condo. I already see it in my brain.

Dad looks at me, puts his arm around me and says : “As your dad, I hope that when the time comes you won’t have to maintain it by yourself. My hope is that one of these guys will see a good thing right in front of them.

*single blink* 

Then I immediately:

Men of the world, hear me now – don’t just do it for me, do it for our potential yard!

Let It Flow

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Dear Men (yeah, it’s going to be one of those posts),

The moment…you are privileged enough to feel the sweet sensation of tiny points of fire clawing its way through your lower insides to explode and expel waves of blood beyond your control…well, THEN we’ll discuss rectifying my attitude today.

Until that time… *single blink*

Sincerely,

WEDNESDAY!

follow me on Twitter: @bettykiss

He Has A Built-In Ability

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Invisible Touch: A Story

She floats up the stairs leading to her apartment, a smile dancing across her lips. She doesn’t even realize she’s humming Stevie Wonder’s “Hey Love” until she’s across the threshold of her place. She leans back against the closed door, her ponytail cushioning her head as she slowly, silently, slides to the floor to only let out a shriek!!!  Her legs and arms flail about like Bambi and then she stops, moving hairs away from her sticky forehead.  Clearing her throat and removing her heels she gets up and finds herself looking back at her moonlit reflection. Even she could see the twinkle in her eye. Not looking beside the mirror, she feels up the wall and flicks the switch. She squints to adjust to the sudden light and then it hits her: he’s the one. He’s the one. HE’S THE ONE!!!  She flashdances her way across her bachelor apartment and flops down on her futon while fishing her phone from her pocket. Good God, it’s 4am! She has to be up in two hours and she’s so far past the ninth cloud she doesn’t think she’ll ever settle down to sleep.

*buzz-buzz*

What’s dat?

*buzz-buzz*

Ha! Oh, the phone. She sees a text message. From him! She’ll NEVER forget those 10 sweet numbers in perfect succession:

I DIDN’T THINK THIS WAS POSSIBLE. UNTIL TOMORROW, DARLIN‘”

She reads and re-reads the text message as she undresses with one hand, brushes her teeth and grabs a bottled water from the fridge before tucking herself in for the final hour and 40 minutes before she needs to be up and at ’em. He didn’t think this was possible. She’s the “this.” He didn’t think she was possible! The butterflies in her stomach mutated into hawks and those things were flying – HE FEELS THE SAME WAY!!!  She’s going to try to get at least and hour’s worth of sleep, who knows what they’ll get up to tomorrow night.

One month later…

*buzz-buzz*

What’s dat?

*buzz-buzz*

Oh. The phone. She knows her friends are NOT interrupting her while she’s watching her shows. Putting the jar of fluffernutter down, wipes the marshmallow bits on her scrubs and digs through the laundry basket that is her floor to locate her phone.

6…4…7….? Who da hell?

“HEY DARLIN’, HOW’S IT GOING? IT’S BEEN A MINUTE. :)”

*single blink*

The end.

follow me on Twitter: @bettykiss

If I Was Your Boyfriend

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Scene from “Pretty In Pink:”

Andie: “EEEEEEEEEEEE! It happened! He asked me.”

Dad: “And?”

Andie: “I accepted.”

Dad: “Well, congratulations. No more moping around the house waiting for the telephone to ring.”

Really, Andie? Just like that, Andie? Andie is a biznitch.

The scene above between Andie and her father has stuck with me since I first saw the movie. Why? Because I don’t understand how that happens…in real life. DO MEN EVER ASK LIKE THAT? Like, for real-for real??? Studies (a.k.a. my envious observations of friends during the years when dating/relationships became a thing) show they do.

I’m a turning-31-year-old lady and unlike the Caramilk secret (which I nailed!), I have no idea how boyfriends and girlfriends become boyfriends and girlfriends. I’ve read about it, I’ve watched it on the big and small screens, I’ve been there for my friends in and out of their relationships/committments/exclusivities/marriages and I still don’t understand it because I’ve never lived it.  As you know, I’ve had a boyfriend (one) in my lifetime. We decided this would be the next step while I folded his laundry on the floor of his apartment because we were feeling weird after kissing for the first time weeks prior and couldn’t really talk to each other like the best friends we were. Before the kiss. He eventually said, “So what are you thinking?” I said, “I don’t know, what do you want to do?” And then he said, “I guess we should try it” but with an upward inflection at the end. Then we shook hands and I continued to fold his laundry and he continued to clean his room. That was it. Case in point, it’s different for every-damn-body.

I know there’s no formula. There are no written rules. That relationship ended more than 5 years ago and since then…nothing. I was seeing someone for 8 months and every day I thought, well…we’ve been seeing each other and only each other for this long, we’re obviously in a relationship. We don’t need to label it, this just is what it is and I feel so grown up. Chest up, pride pouring from my core. Then he turns around and says, “Yeah – this isn’t a relationship by the by.” WTF?! So then what are we doing? I thought I was being breezy. I thought I was going with the flow. It technically WAS a relationship of sorts, was it not? Explain yourself (arms folded, foot tapping)! Instead he drove away and I choked on the dust from his exhaust. That was that. Why would there be any emotion, in his mind, there was NO relationship.

Was I touched in the soft spot at a very young age? Do NOT tell me that it’s not happening for me because I really want it to. I’m surrounded by men and women who knew what they wanted and they went out and got it. I know people who didn’t want anything of the sort and it just rolled up on ’em and now they have 2.5 kids and a cottage up north. I will never, ever believe that just because you want something means it’s not going to happen for you. How does that make sense? Everything I’ve ever achieved in life is due to my perseverance and focus on the prize. If I know I’m perfect for a job, will I not do whatever it takes to land that job? If I want to make a meal, will I not scour the land for all the pertinent ingredients and use all the tools I own to make the best dish I can?  So why would I not try? The last time I decided I’m just going to concentrate on me…three years went by. I wasn’t approached or asked out in 1,095 days.  Guys? Guys. GUYS! Come on, that’s ridiculous. I literally wasn’t even asked out for me to turn to the gentleman and say, “Thank you but no, I’m concentrating on me right now.”  I was just left alone. I’m not a game-player yet I’m being forced to play this game with zero instructions, a ripped board and no dice. HOW IS THIS FAIR?

Anyway, this post isn’t for any form of sympathy, obviously. This is me. I’m a big girl. This post is to legitimately ask, how the hell do people get in relationships?  ‘Cuz dating someone I like and who likes me doesn’t seem to work. Nor does asking the man myself, so…………… *single blink*

follow me on twitter, let’s talk about it: @bettykiss

It’s Been Awhile

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I’ve been off the online dating sites for the last little while. Here are the latest messages I found in my forgotten inbox. I don’t know what to do with them because answering would simply be too easy, I guess. *single blink with a flock of facepalms*

“well i think it;s about time you say hello 😉 “

“oh hey how are you beautiful , i seen you on that show about dating you picked that tall white guy at the end. How did that go , didnt work out ?”

“are you a celebrity”

“Hello – How is your day going? I hope that you are well, and that you are blessed abundantly. I wish you good times, happiness, and the love of family and friends. Take care of yourself.”


Well…maybe tomorrow. Worf, whatchu think, boo? Ghobe’?