Feelin’ On Yo Booty

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Public.

Displays.

Of Affection…

Let’s talk about it.

I’m still on this celibate tip (can you believe it?!) but I’m not above making out with a cute boy. This is my individual journey so I’m creating routes as I go. A few weeks ago, I met this dangerously good-looking mixed race gentleman. I would describe him as Gaston from Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast” if Gaston had a Korean mommy. I instigated conversation and seemed to win him over with my specific brand of charm.  We decided to grab a drink after the party finished and got into some pretty interesting life topics.

There was a lot of touching during our conversation (the knee, the shoulder, the forehand, entwined fingers), the sexual chemistry was on high. It was a school night, I wasn’t going to sleep with him but does that mean I couldn’t get a little chups,* it had been FOREVER. We left together and chatted a bit on the sidewalk in front of the bar and for God and the world to see, he leaned in and kissed me. It. Was. Good! So good, I had to put one of my needed-to-be manicured hands against his barge-chest.

Suddenly, I hear the rumblings from a patio patron exclaiming he’s seen a lot of PDA that night…

*single blink*

JEALOUS MUCH?!?!?!?!,” my brain exclaimed as KG (Korean Gaston) laboriously worked his lips in ways I forgot existed. I was really enjoying myself until his hand, flopped upon my left breast and stayed there like a geriatric sloth that simply could not be bothered to hoist itself into the trees any longer. It blipped on my radar because he didn’t do anything with his hand. Not a squeeze, not a caress, not even a mammo. Trying very hard not to ruin the moment, I aggressively seductively removed his hand. Then his hand shot up to chest cliff again! Ummm…..ok.  Removed it yet again.  Maybe three times was the charm in his mind but it wasn’t in mine. In case he decided to try his move again, I interlaced my fingers into his and kept them by our sides. The kissing was quite lovely and I wanted to squeeze as much of that goodness out as possible but then I felt his other hand reach under my dress to cup my bum.

SIGH.

My attention, momentarily broken, allowed him to free his other hand from mine and plop it down on my fantastic rack again. Sooooooo…really that’s the end of this story. I have no problem with a little exploration in these situations but isn’t there a way to be a little more smooth; the world doesn’t have to see what you’re getting the privilege to traverse. Maybe in his mind, he was being completely debonaire. Maybe he was trying to squeeze the most out of our time together in his way because I told him I wasn’t going home with him. I can’t be mad at it or him, people and their boundaries/comfort levels are different. Here are my observations when it comes to PDAs:

  1. They’re loads of fun
  2. You don’t need to overtly cop a feel in public for it to remain fun

I don’t know if it’s a fine line, but there’s definitely a visible etching in the sand for these types of things. If you and your partner are exhibitionists, then sure, knock yourself out. But for me, there is nothing more turn-offable then being non-suavely groped.

So consider this my PSA for PDAs: Just. Be. Cool. It’ll all work itself out if it’s supposed to.

PDA

*Chups (pronounced like “choops”) means getting action without the doing the entire deed, if you know what I mean. So “a little chups” is like a great kiss.

Get On The Bus

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No filler. No filter. This is what happened to me on Saturday night (technically Sunday morning).

I left work (which includes but not limited to: collecting cover at an LGBT-friendly dance party, looking fabulous, dancing until I sweat my makeup off, enviously watching men twerk) and caught the final streetcar to the Blue Night bus. The first bus was way too packed so I opted to wait for the next one. I saw a Tim Hortons across the street and I was starving, I thought grabbing a sandwich would be a delicious treat to indulge in once I was home.

A group of guys and girls were gathered around the stop I returned to and one of the guys was using his French-speaking skills to charm some ladies visiting from Quebec. Minding my own business by scrolling through my Twitter timeline to see what I’d missed, I notice a figure in my periph. When I looked up, a young gentleman was staring right at me, mid-chew of his pita. He asked me what I was thinking about because he felt like something was on my mind. I smirk a little and tell him nothing is on my mind but the sandwich in my hand and sitting down to eat it.

That answer was not good enough for him.

He tells me he’s an intuitive guy and I’m awesome, he can tell from my vibe. I say “thank you” and see the Blue Night bus approaching (it’s just as full as the one I let pass me by earlier). He follows my stare and asks if he could have my number. Though I was flattered, this was a child and I’m not about that life. I politely decline and jump on the bus as fast I could.

At this moment, I hear him saying to the driver he wasn’t taking the bus and he was starting a commotion. I’m not paying him any mind and found a space I could squeeze into for the long trip ahead. Out of nowhere, this same guy yells to the driver, “I just need her number!!!”

My eyes widen and  I look at the front and this dude is STILL there. When he catches my eye, he takes the opportunity to bellow to the back of the bus, “I just need your number, I’m a good guy!”  I yell back, “I’m sure you are but I’m not interested, thank you though.”

Apparently, that wasn’t good enough either. The bus still can’t move until he exits or pays to stay on.

Him: “Give me a good reason why you won’t give me your number!”

Me: “I’m just not interested.”

Bus remains unmoving. This exchange goes back and forth for more than 5 minutes.

This was me, essentially, for the full five minutes because I didn't want to be rude to the guy.

Me, basically, for the full five minutes because I didn’t want to be rude to the guy.

The late-night passengers are not having it and begin to yell at him to get off the bus and leave with dignity.

Him: “I’m 21 and I’m a good guy. WHY WON’T YOU GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER?!!!”

Me: Sigh. *single blink* “Because I’m 11 years older than you, baby boy. PLEASE be safe and have a good night.”

I wanted to add that in some countries, I could be his mother but that would’ve been uncalled for. An audible hush falls over the packed bus.

At this moment, the driver ushers the young man off the bus and finally drives away. I’m surrounded by three girls; one turns to me and says, “Everyone feels bad for you at this moment.”  While these ladies and/or people on the bus would be flush with embarrassment, I could only chuckle and shake my head because “BRAVO” to that kid.

The Silver Linings Playbook of this story is: while I have no interest dating someone that young at this stage of my life, he proved to me that males ARE capable of marathonesque and herculean-type effort to procure  a way to contact me. So to all the men (and women) out there, do what it takes regardless of the potential failure.

I promise you’ll regret not going after that something you want more than taking the plunge. I’ll have more on this “going after what you want” in an upcoming post. I’m currently in the midst of doing this myself. The rejection probability is through the roof and yet here I am, still doing it and letting the universe do what it’s gonna do.

Seven Days

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In my newfound mindset, I’ve decided to do one thing every day this week for myself. The only requirement is that it’s for me and it brings me unbridled joy.  I finally finished reading my book, You Are A Badass by Jen Sincero.  It’s all about the laws of attraction and envisioning what you want out of life and you just have to show up to receive it. Like, straight-up blind faith in the unknown. *single blink* I’ve never done ANYTHING like this before but in the first few days, it’s worked! Here’s where we stand on my “Happiness Adventure”:

SUNDAY – I asked my mother to help me find a new couch. I’m finally at a place where I want to get my condo sorted. It will be slow and steady-going but I will make this place my home. I’ve been thinking about this couch; how it feels when I sit on it, the shape of it, how much I want to spend on it. I found a few that were close but nothing excited me. In the final store of the day, there it was.  My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. I just sat on it for the majority of the visit, I didn’t need to look at anything else – we found each other.The best part is, I paid for it in cold, hard cash. AND THE BONUS, when I got home, my tax refund was in the mail. The couch basically cost me $200. THANKS UNIVERSE!

MONDAY – Here is the exact status update I posted on Facebook: “The Spadina Station madness forced me to take the Bathurst streetcar. I passed a record store and envisioned myself walking in buying “Love TKO.” I just went in & they had two Teddy Pendergrass albums in the store. Now they have one. SQUEEEEEE!”

TUESDAY – It was Client Appreciation Day at the Renaissance Hotel. Whenever I receive invitations that pull me away from work, I decline because I have “so much to do” and I’d “rather get things completed so I don’t have to worry about them later.”  Taking my “yes, and…” philosophy into account, I accepted the invite. I ate lunch and watched the Toronto Blue Jays in absolutely luxury for the entire afternoon. It was delightful.

I’m not quite sure what Wednesday or the rest of the week will bring but everything’s coming up Milhouse and I couldn’t be more thrilled with the results.

What are you up to this week? What are you doing to make yourself happy?

Milhouse

How Much Wood Would A Woodchuck Chuck?

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Lessons of Summer 2012:

  1. Old loves/lusts come out of the dyam woodwork. Where did you come from all of a sudden? Seriously!
  2. Like my red Olympic mittens, men vanish when I need them in the Fall/Winter and somehow reappear in the warm months when I’m OVER it/them.
  3. When I’m enjoying my warm weather months with a potential, the oldies smell my happiness and do everything in the power to ATTACK it.

One, none or all of these instances may be something you’ve experienced in the past or are currently going through. It’s a cray phenomenon I’d like to leave up to Bill Nye to figure out and then break it down in a way only a four year old could understand. Why is the flow of NEW men so inconsistent? Is it strictly a matter of”Spring Fever?” Does something open their eyes and hearts to the attractivity of me once the temperature gets into the double digits? Is there a seasonal reminder that goes off in their heads where they feel obligated to disturb my sanity?!?!?!?  ‘Cuz my libeeds (aka libido) is outta all control 365 days a year and I can’t be the only one who thinks it’s DAMN rude to be thought of only when it’s convenient for them…can I? *single blink*

If you’re anything like me, you have learned the hard way that the only way to survive the summer is to shut down the woodchucks trying to chomp on your limber lumber. Beggars cannot be choosers, but I’m past the point of begging and you are too (trust me!) We’re all good enough and smart enough to know when someone is trying to make us their backburner booty call.  So join me in telling them all to galang.

All of the men…GALANG!!!

Have You Ever Been Low?

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Yesterday was one of those days I woke up and everyone and their mother upset me. Nothing happened to me! No one said anything to offend me. My family is safe and sound. I’m happily hunting for my employment bliss. All my bills are paid for. I have the ultimate VIP cable package.  Two packs of bacon, untouched, in the freezer. LIFE IS F*CKIN’ AMAZING!  So why?!?!?!?!!!!

I have no idea. But I took a break from the interwebs to just sit back, reflect and pound back some bacon.

Already feeling better.

Follow me on Twitter, PLEASEANDTHANKS (@Bettykiss)

Say It Ain’t So

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I have been GLUED to the Olympics since they began and I’m debating whether I should do a “Boys of the Olympics Whom I Crush On” series because let’s be serious, there is epic swoonworthiness happening at the 2012 Summer Games. One of these boys, is the caramel-skinned gymnastic beautifulness from Great Britain, Louis Smith.

I felt he was robbed of the gold medal on the pommel horse – his routine was flawless. FLAWLESS, I scream!  The judges, however, did not agree with my armchair scoring. So THIS is my acknowledgement of the man who made Kate Middleton watch his finals through her fingers…because his shine is too bright.

BAAAAAAAAAAAM!!!

Louis Smith, Gymnast (Great Britain)

Louis Smith…thank you.

UPDATE:

Kate Middleton watching Louis Smith (Pommel Horse Finals)

FINALLY, It’s Happened To Me

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IT IS HAPPENING TOMORROW!

Friends, it has been a LOOOOOOOOOOOONG time coming, but I will be seeing the Childish Gambino himself (a.k.a. Donald Glover) tomorrow, Tuesday, July 31st, at Echo Beach. While my campaign to meet him flopped, I did have a great back and forth with Donald’s rep. Unfortunately, I will not meet him tomorrow but the fact I was able to get through to anyone in his “camp” is a great achievement in my Single Blink books.

Ludwig Göransson and Donald Glover (Childish Gambino)

I’ve been going easy on the posts the last few weeks but get ready for me to setback to the goods this week: SEX! BOYS! BAMPSIES! BOYS! FAILURES! DATES! BOYS! *single blink*

Follow me on the Twitter: @Bettykiss

The Block Is Hot

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COCKBLOCK – noun and verb: a person who interferes with or hinders a pickup artist’s game, whether accidentally or on purpose. A cockblock can be a friend of the woman, a friend of the pickup artist, or a complete stranger.

Guys, I’ve somehow developed the ability to cockblock myself and it’s becoming a problem. A big one.

Follow me on Twitter: @Bettykiss

Cover Girl

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Time for an online profile change….for the better.  I need to go back to taking my own profile a little more seriously. Yes…I will still get ridiculous messages, but the more ridiculous my profile is the least likely I am to get ANYTHING remotely close to normal.

I’ve enlisted the help of a very special photographer in my life (Sylvia Pereira) to take some new photos of me for my website: Bettykiss Style Inc. But I think I may steal 4 or 5 decent shots that were not used and post them on my profile. There is nothing like using pictures that no longer look like the current you. I know I get cheesed OFF when I’m chatting to someone who says,”But just so you know, that was years ago.” Then post one from this year, Trick Daddy!  Or they say, “I don’t have facial hair anymore.”  Then shave and snap away, playa!  I have to practice what I preach so I’m hiding my online profiles until I have updated photos to bring all the boys to the yard.

So ladies and gentlemen – when I have my photo selections, I will give you a sneak peek of the new and improved profile. WHO KNOWS…maybe someone unexpected will rear his super-fly head… *single blink*  Maybe.

My body is READY for its close-up.

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!