Phew! Its been 8 months of singledom, and man oh man, the new lingo I am picking up never seems to cease. This also appears to be one of the more popular topics that I write about, so here are some new dating/single/seeing/relationship terms for y'all!
1. The Stand Up Guy: according to Urban Dictionary (woot woot! new fav website!), this is a Mafia term (something that is akin to my blood) that refers to a businessman that is not one to bullshit, can be trusted and will do anything for his family. This type of guy when on the dating hunt, is very very elusive. Only coming out in the daylight when all of us gals are at work. This guy is the one that we all wish we were dating, because we know that he won't downgrade our dates or stand us up, that he will return calls and txts promptly, that he wont go out and get smashed the night before meeting our parents for brunch, he holds down continuous employment, can dress himself, knows how to act accordingly in a group setting and has overall incredible hygiene. This is a much like a unicorn, but if you take a close look at your guy friend roster, you more than likely have a few hiding out.
2. The Year of Trampage: this is a year free of judgement for a lady or gentleman (then refered to the Year of Manwhore), where a person is permitted to do whomever, where ever, when ever. In order to qualify for the Year of Trampage/Manwhore one must have broken up from a significant relationship recently, and by significant, we are talking 3 years plus. If under the 3 year requirement, the year can then be reduced to 6 months for 2 years and 3 months for 1 year and so on. Friends of either a man or woman that is participating in this Year, must remember that this is a no judgement year, so close your eyes, plug your ears and smile!
3. The Downgraded Date: this is my new favorite term by far. Boy asks girl (all scenarios can easily be switched around), on a date on a Sunday. Girl accepts. Girl confirms date is still a go on Thursday. Boy then "magically" remembers a friends birthday party for the time of the date planned. Boy offers to cancel, but expresses that he still really wants to see the Girl, so "how about the afternoon instead?". Do not be confused, this IS the proverbial slap in the face. Through use of non verbal communication, Boy has then told Girl that "she is not a priority over and above drinking with buddies and therefore should not waste her time with me". Ladies, move on. This is NOT a stand up guy. Now, as an exception to most things, life does come into play, such as a death, car accident ect. But should be treated on a case by case basis. Tread lightly.
4. The Stand Up: this is a tactic employed by both guys and gals who do not wish to participate in a date, and is generally used in place of being a real person and calling/txting to cancel. People who engage this strategy are usually cowards, or cocky POS's, that honestly think that the person they made plans with is of a lower class/status than they are. What they are forgetting is that its the other way around. In chatting with a number of my guy friends, not one of them has ever stood a girl up. They have at least done their best to use any form of communication to cancel or reschedule the date. Ladies and gents, it takes 2 seconds to send a txt, don't be a namby pamby.
5. The Pimp Bench: this is a post break up or Year of Trampage/Manwhore, rotation of the opposite sex that you can have a good time with, cause they are super chill. You cycle these people on and off the bench to keep things markedly superficial. This also assist in avoiding the "rebound".
Even though I realized not too long ago that I am much better at being in a relationship than out of one, I am feeling way more at ease with dating this time around. I credit this to figuring out the lingo.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Life is Short
Yesterday, everyone around the country learned that Jack Layton died at home, surrounded by loved ones. He was unsuccessful in his battle with cancer.
When he announced this summer that he was taking a leave of absence for cancer treatment, I like many many others around the country fully believed that he would be back as promised for the fall sitting of Parliament. Hes a fighter. He has tenacity. Strength. And he beat cancer once before. No big deal.
Before learning of his death I was mulling over a number of decisions regarding my single life. Now, politics and love do not go hand in hand usually, but I am going somewhere with this, so bear with me.
I was honestly ready to throw in the towel, to say "screw you love!" and was thinking that may be I was meant to be single for the rest of my life and have very torrid love affairs instead. I was thinking that may be there isn't one person for each of us. That there isn't such thing as a soul mate. Heck, I even went so far as to name my closest besties as my soul mates to help alleviate pressure off of myself in finding that "special someone".
A lot of these feelings had been brought upon by a couple of things.
First, one of my best guys friends has been super down in the dumps for the better part of the last year, may be more. It seriously kills me when I see him like this. He has a sadness about him that is palatable. He loved his ex with a passion that I could only hope to attain one day. And now he is a shell of himself. Not happy with home, work or life really in general. He is generally one of the most optimistic people I know, always happy, excited about life, smiled easily and was so willing to share himself in hopes of finding that special someone.
Knowing him like I do, I thought to myself, if someone that had such zest for love could become embittered towards it, what hope do I have in the grand scheme of things?
The other thing was trying to determine what I really wanted out of love and how much I wanted to give of myself. In the last few months, I have been accused of "being too busy" or "working too much" or "lacking the ability to acknowledge emotional responses from people" ... its hard for me to explain that the reason I do this, is because its a habit. Not because I like it. Its plain and simply a habit. One that was formed out of necessity of not having things to go home to at night, so keep busy and by the time you do get home, its time for bed! Call it avoidance or a defense mechanism, whatever. Habits are hard to break and frankly, I have no idea what I would do with the time on hand otherwise.
And then, Jack Layton died.
I read his letter to Canadians in full. And the ending of the letter, as for most people, brought tears to my eyes. I certainly did not agree with the man's politics, but I do fully agree with his last words:
"My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we'll change the world"
I readily admit that I was angry, fearful and was on my way to being in despair. But life is short. Too short. I no longer have time to be angry, fearful or even think of despair. It's time to stop dipping my big toe in the water to test the temperature. It's time to just jump right in with both feet, cause hey! that's optimism right? Thanks Jack.
When he announced this summer that he was taking a leave of absence for cancer treatment, I like many many others around the country fully believed that he would be back as promised for the fall sitting of Parliament. Hes a fighter. He has tenacity. Strength. And he beat cancer once before. No big deal.
Before learning of his death I was mulling over a number of decisions regarding my single life. Now, politics and love do not go hand in hand usually, but I am going somewhere with this, so bear with me.
I was honestly ready to throw in the towel, to say "screw you love!" and was thinking that may be I was meant to be single for the rest of my life and have very torrid love affairs instead. I was thinking that may be there isn't one person for each of us. That there isn't such thing as a soul mate. Heck, I even went so far as to name my closest besties as my soul mates to help alleviate pressure off of myself in finding that "special someone".
A lot of these feelings had been brought upon by a couple of things.
First, one of my best guys friends has been super down in the dumps for the better part of the last year, may be more. It seriously kills me when I see him like this. He has a sadness about him that is palatable. He loved his ex with a passion that I could only hope to attain one day. And now he is a shell of himself. Not happy with home, work or life really in general. He is generally one of the most optimistic people I know, always happy, excited about life, smiled easily and was so willing to share himself in hopes of finding that special someone.
Knowing him like I do, I thought to myself, if someone that had such zest for love could become embittered towards it, what hope do I have in the grand scheme of things?
The other thing was trying to determine what I really wanted out of love and how much I wanted to give of myself. In the last few months, I have been accused of "being too busy" or "working too much" or "lacking the ability to acknowledge emotional responses from people" ... its hard for me to explain that the reason I do this, is because its a habit. Not because I like it. Its plain and simply a habit. One that was formed out of necessity of not having things to go home to at night, so keep busy and by the time you do get home, its time for bed! Call it avoidance or a defense mechanism, whatever. Habits are hard to break and frankly, I have no idea what I would do with the time on hand otherwise.
And then, Jack Layton died.
I read his letter to Canadians in full. And the ending of the letter, as for most people, brought tears to my eyes. I certainly did not agree with the man's politics, but I do fully agree with his last words:
"My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we'll change the world"
I readily admit that I was angry, fearful and was on my way to being in despair. But life is short. Too short. I no longer have time to be angry, fearful or even think of despair. It's time to stop dipping my big toe in the water to test the temperature. It's time to just jump right in with both feet, cause hey! that's optimism right? Thanks Jack.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
A vs. D
"What do you do when your seeing/dating a guy, and he is busy with work and other stuff for a lot of the time, you know your not seeing/dating anyone else and neither is he, but you know for a fact that he is not giving you his 'A' game? You know that your getting something equivalent to the 'D' Game."
This was one of my besties burning question tonight at dinner with the girls.
The A Game: this is when a guy pulls out all the stops. He calls, he texts, both of which could be late into the night, he bends over backwards to see you which can include flying across the country as an example. And if he even gets a whiff of competition, he blows them out of the water with amazing accuracy. This is something that a guy gives, when he really really likes a girl and wants to be with her. She is the only object of his attention, and he lets her know it explicitly.
The D Game: this is obviously a few levels below the A Game. Sometimes a guy can start out with the A Game, and then downgrade to a D (this is known as the Bait and Switch) depending on the time of year, the seasons, work, friends, other commitments, overall mood of the guy and how much effort he wants to put into things.
My response to my friend was pretty simple: "How long do you wanna wait around to see if circumstances change, and hope that he upgrades his game to an A? And is there a guarantee that this will happen?" The other girls concurred. My friend nodded her head, pushed around her food a bit more, and then said she had some things to think about with regards to this guy.
Over the last 8 months I have come to realize a few things. Each woman is precious. Yes, even the crazy ones. Each one deserves an A Game at least once in their life. They deserve to be treated like a princess, and have a guy sweep them off their feet and carry them off into the sunset and be happy, for at least a little while.
As much of a realist that I am, even I to a very very small degree, want this. I would love to have the feeling of being the only object of someones attention. To be made to feel special, unique, cherished.
Not being in my friends situation, I can easily become an arm chair coach to her relationship. When I was faced with the same circumstances last year, I waited around, and the A Game never made an appearance, in fact the game downgraded to worse than a G.
But that was in that one situation. And now having seen levels of the game lower than an A, I know that I refuse to settle for anything less. So fellas, word of warning: buckle up and get your gloves ready, cause I only want to see your A Game.
This was one of my besties burning question tonight at dinner with the girls.
The A Game: this is when a guy pulls out all the stops. He calls, he texts, both of which could be late into the night, he bends over backwards to see you which can include flying across the country as an example. And if he even gets a whiff of competition, he blows them out of the water with amazing accuracy. This is something that a guy gives, when he really really likes a girl and wants to be with her. She is the only object of his attention, and he lets her know it explicitly.
The D Game: this is obviously a few levels below the A Game. Sometimes a guy can start out with the A Game, and then downgrade to a D (this is known as the Bait and Switch) depending on the time of year, the seasons, work, friends, other commitments, overall mood of the guy and how much effort he wants to put into things.
My response to my friend was pretty simple: "How long do you wanna wait around to see if circumstances change, and hope that he upgrades his game to an A? And is there a guarantee that this will happen?" The other girls concurred. My friend nodded her head, pushed around her food a bit more, and then said she had some things to think about with regards to this guy.
Over the last 8 months I have come to realize a few things. Each woman is precious. Yes, even the crazy ones. Each one deserves an A Game at least once in their life. They deserve to be treated like a princess, and have a guy sweep them off their feet and carry them off into the sunset and be happy, for at least a little while.
As much of a realist that I am, even I to a very very small degree, want this. I would love to have the feeling of being the only object of someones attention. To be made to feel special, unique, cherished.
Not being in my friends situation, I can easily become an arm chair coach to her relationship. When I was faced with the same circumstances last year, I waited around, and the A Game never made an appearance, in fact the game downgraded to worse than a G.
But that was in that one situation. And now having seen levels of the game lower than an A, I know that I refuse to settle for anything less. So fellas, word of warning: buckle up and get your gloves ready, cause I only want to see your A Game.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Tasted Like White Cake
Being on the same page as others I am finding out is fairly important...not only in the grand scheme of things, but even on a day to day basis. If your not, then miscommunication of sometimes fabled proportions can happen. Which is tragic, but entirely avoidable.
I need to be on the same page as my boss in order to perform my job duties effectively.
I need to be on the same page as Mr. Ari, so that the puppy hugs never cease.
I need to be on the same page as my banker...because apparently if Victoria Secret happens to have a sale on 2 weekends in a row, I still "should" eat in between those 2 weekends.
I need to be on the same page as my friends, cause they are my soul mates and I really don't want the universe to reach out and slap me. And because they are also my chosen family, which is significant in it's self.
I need to be on the same page with my trainers and my body...I have over an hour to shave off my last marathon race time, and I need to complete the training without becoming injured.
I need to be on the same page with the contractors who are fixing (or supposed to be) my house...I could really use my closet space back as soon as possible, cause everything is everywhere!
At the end of the day, when all is said and done, I need to be on the same page as myself. Sounds strange, I know. But with everything happening in my life of late, I feel as if a whirling dervish has blown in, and not left.
I am starting to get the hang of it now though. Finding that balance has been key...and I have to tell you, once I realized that I was starting to be on the same page as myself, it tasted like white cake.
I need to be on the same page as my boss in order to perform my job duties effectively.
I need to be on the same page as Mr. Ari, so that the puppy hugs never cease.
I need to be on the same page as my banker...because apparently if Victoria Secret happens to have a sale on 2 weekends in a row, I still "should" eat in between those 2 weekends.
I need to be on the same page as my friends, cause they are my soul mates and I really don't want the universe to reach out and slap me. And because they are also my chosen family, which is significant in it's self.
I need to be on the same page with my trainers and my body...I have over an hour to shave off my last marathon race time, and I need to complete the training without becoming injured.
I need to be on the same page with the contractors who are fixing (or supposed to be) my house...I could really use my closet space back as soon as possible, cause everything is everywhere!
At the end of the day, when all is said and done, I need to be on the same page as myself. Sounds strange, I know. But with everything happening in my life of late, I feel as if a whirling dervish has blown in, and not left.
I am starting to get the hang of it now though. Finding that balance has been key...and I have to tell you, once I realized that I was starting to be on the same page as myself, it tasted like white cake.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The Runners Hug
I run. I never intended on running. I at no time ever thought that I would classify myself as a runner. I really didn't like it when I started, and I liked it even less for the first year I was in it.
I started running as a result of being called "fat" the first time I met my ex's sister. Being called fat is one thing, but when the person doing the name calling has never spoken to you or seen you before, this was a pretty crushing blow to not only my ego, but my own self respect and esteem. She also had (and more than likely still has) some choice other names for me already picked out, but that's another story.
I signed myself up for the Learn to Run Women's Only 5km clinic at the Namao Centre Running Room...and finished the 10 week course and participated in my first race on St Patrick's day. I was on tap to finish in under 35 minutes (a incredibly respectable time for your first race), and then I slipped and fell on the ice. I hobbled back in with a time of 41 minutes. My ex patted me on the shoulder and said that I would do better next time, and that I should watch out for better footing too. Saying that I was even more deflated at this point is an understatement.
Fast forward a year and a half, and I was training for my very first half marathon, on my own. I was still with the Running Room, and training other ladies on how to run their first 5km race. I was training through injuries, because I seriously had no idea what I was doing...and I certainly had no clue about nutrition during the run either.
Cue up race day: I had a few acquaintances that I ran into at the race. All of them gave me a hug, including my boss (who I had known about 3 weeks at that point). My ex was missing in action. I think he volunteered for duty or something, I cannot quite recall, but again, I was seriously deflated. I was nervous, injured and I was thinking that I was crazy for trying to do this on my own.
My injuries got the best of me just a little over the 3/4 mark during the race and I had to walk the rest of the way in...I tried my best to increase my speed up to a hobble, but the pain in my leg was unthinkable. I did my best when crossing the finish line, and after getting my medal I turned to my right and there were all the acquaintances from the Running Room lined up against the fence, waving and cheering. One of the ladies called me over, wanting to give me a hug, I said that I would walk around the fence...giving me the mom tone she said "No right here, right now".
To this day, I have not had a more amazing hug. I cannot explain what it felt like to have someone at the finish line, regardless of the fact if they knew you well or not, know that you gave it your best and hugged it out with you at the end. Writing this now, I am honestly starting to get choked up a little bit.
Fast forward another year. I have finished 1 full marathon, and 3 more half marathons since that hug. At all of them, there was someone I either knew, or sorta knew that gave me a hug at the end of the race. Each hug held a different meaning. Each one special in their own right.
I have 2 more races coming up this year.
One in Edmonton, a half marathon, and this one I am hoping to convince a few friends to come out to watch me cross the finish line. And the other is a full marathon in Savannah GA. This race, I am having a hard time getting into the mindset of it, and its mainly because I am going by myself, with no guarantee of a hug. And this scares the crap right out of me. It scared me so much that I got seriously turned around in the River Valley tonight on what was supposed to be a 10km run, which turned into a 16km run instead. The river valley runs East/West, getting turned around in it is kinda hard lol. Please refer to my post on "Moments of Greatness" cause this mos def qualifies.
But in all seriousness, the hug IS THE KEY to my training, how is one supposed to mentally prepare for the absence of it?
I started running as a result of being called "fat" the first time I met my ex's sister. Being called fat is one thing, but when the person doing the name calling has never spoken to you or seen you before, this was a pretty crushing blow to not only my ego, but my own self respect and esteem. She also had (and more than likely still has) some choice other names for me already picked out, but that's another story.
I signed myself up for the Learn to Run Women's Only 5km clinic at the Namao Centre Running Room...and finished the 10 week course and participated in my first race on St Patrick's day. I was on tap to finish in under 35 minutes (a incredibly respectable time for your first race), and then I slipped and fell on the ice. I hobbled back in with a time of 41 minutes. My ex patted me on the shoulder and said that I would do better next time, and that I should watch out for better footing too. Saying that I was even more deflated at this point is an understatement.
Fast forward a year and a half, and I was training for my very first half marathon, on my own. I was still with the Running Room, and training other ladies on how to run their first 5km race. I was training through injuries, because I seriously had no idea what I was doing...and I certainly had no clue about nutrition during the run either.
Cue up race day: I had a few acquaintances that I ran into at the race. All of them gave me a hug, including my boss (who I had known about 3 weeks at that point). My ex was missing in action. I think he volunteered for duty or something, I cannot quite recall, but again, I was seriously deflated. I was nervous, injured and I was thinking that I was crazy for trying to do this on my own.
My injuries got the best of me just a little over the 3/4 mark during the race and I had to walk the rest of the way in...I tried my best to increase my speed up to a hobble, but the pain in my leg was unthinkable. I did my best when crossing the finish line, and after getting my medal I turned to my right and there were all the acquaintances from the Running Room lined up against the fence, waving and cheering. One of the ladies called me over, wanting to give me a hug, I said that I would walk around the fence...giving me the mom tone she said "No right here, right now".
To this day, I have not had a more amazing hug. I cannot explain what it felt like to have someone at the finish line, regardless of the fact if they knew you well or not, know that you gave it your best and hugged it out with you at the end. Writing this now, I am honestly starting to get choked up a little bit.
Fast forward another year. I have finished 1 full marathon, and 3 more half marathons since that hug. At all of them, there was someone I either knew, or sorta knew that gave me a hug at the end of the race. Each hug held a different meaning. Each one special in their own right.
I have 2 more races coming up this year.
One in Edmonton, a half marathon, and this one I am hoping to convince a few friends to come out to watch me cross the finish line. And the other is a full marathon in Savannah GA. This race, I am having a hard time getting into the mindset of it, and its mainly because I am going by myself, with no guarantee of a hug. And this scares the crap right out of me. It scared me so much that I got seriously turned around in the River Valley tonight on what was supposed to be a 10km run, which turned into a 16km run instead. The river valley runs East/West, getting turned around in it is kinda hard lol. Please refer to my post on "Moments of Greatness" cause this mos def qualifies.
But in all seriousness, the hug IS THE KEY to my training, how is one supposed to mentally prepare for the absence of it?
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