Tag Archives: funny

In the Beginning


I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a little girl and fell in love with reading.  I wanted to read way before parents were allowed to teach their kids anything about it before kindergarten and even first grade.  My mom would read me my favourite books so much that I actually started to read a bit on my own.  Once I learned to read in school, though, there was no holding me back.  I remember driving with my parents and them asking me what a sign might say and I would patiently sound out each letter until the word seemed to appear in my head and burst out of my mouth.  Every time my family would cheer and applaud me for my efforts.

I would read to my little sister most nights, giving her the stories I heard and loved.  I would try to teach her to read while we played “Teacher”.

writngWriting came next and it seemed like a natural thing. I wrote plays for my family and friends to act in.  Quite elaborate ones too.  One of them I remember quite well because it was about a dragon (my dad) and the prince (my cousin, Freddy) having a battle over the princess, (my little sister, Colleen).  I was the director.  This all took place in the kitchen at our cottage at the beach.  The dragon kept blowing fire at the prince and I kept yelling at the prince to put out the fire.  Unfortunately, the prince got the bright idea to take a 5 gallon pail of water and throw it at the dragon, soaking everything in the kitchen.  My mom was not happy and there were no more plays inside anymore.  But I kept writing them.

I didn’t realize that I could write until 10th grade when our English teacher had us keep a journal which he read every night and marked or made comments.  One day he gave us starter lines for creative writing and one of them was the one I picked “As the clock ticked…”  Suddenly I had an incredible idea of the last seconds of a person’s life ticking away; someone on death row about to die for killing her husband.  I wrote pages and pages in the 20 minutes we were allowed to write.  When I handed it in I had such a thrill of excitement knowing that someone was going to read it and give me an honest opinion.  I knew it was good.

It was.  The teacher wrote several lines of positive comments and gave me an A+.  He also encouraged me to write more and try to find that burst of imagination and creativity more often.  He also told me that was one of the reasons for the journal.  Practicing my writing would only give me more of a voice and, by golly, it sure has.

I saw my niece last night and found out she’s been following my blog.  I always feel kind of weird when I find out someone I know reads all about what’s in my head and then that goes away almost right away.  I’m writing for me and for anyone who wants to read it.  She wants me to keep writing and that’s my intention.  It was great to  have feedback from her and I feel encouraged to keep up my once-a-week posts here.

One of these days I hope to make a living at this.  Wouldn’t that be something?  I want to take more creative writing courses and maybe get a novel out of this old noggin of mine.  That has always been my dream.

Kill The Demons (or just find a way to shut them up)


On January 13, 2014 and a Monday to boot, I faced a demon I’ve had in my dreams and my life for over 5 years.

This was a spontaneous decision to go to this place on this day although I had wanted to do it for a long time.  I faced the outside of the door, more than a little apprehensive on what my reception would be.  Unannounced, with no appointment but a steeliness in my heart, my hand reached out and opened the door.  My feet crossed the threshold.

I was back in the building where I spent 15 years of my life, giving it my all and then, when I left, felt like a failure.  The first thing I noticed was the silence.  This place was always full of noise when I worked there.  The next thing I noticed was a face peering at me from the front desk; older and maybe even wiser.  It took a minute for him to register who I was.  He jumped and said my name with a bit of a shout, and had big smiles for me.  I barely remembered what we talked about. We giggled a lot.

This wasn’t what I came here to do.

I asked the lovely receptionist (who was my work-husband on and off for 20 years) to see if the Executive Director was in and would he see me.  As he made the phone call, I started to notice other things.

spirit1There were ghosts.  Everywhere.  I knew that the clients I’ve known here, loved and stuck my neck out for were mostly gone now.  Their presence was obvious, though, almost like a breeze in some cases (Hi Marie, it sure is great to see you!) to waves crashing from an ocean to a shore; strong, really loud and hard to ignore (Well, looky you! WELL THERE YOU ARE!!  I knew you would come back.  Why did you leave?  Why. Did. You. Leave. Us?)

I wasn’t sure this was a good idea anymore.  What was I expecting?  It’s been a very long time since my sudden departure.  I waited at the front and saw a former staff member, one of my favourites.  I shouted her name and she turned around peering at me too.  The smile on her face was huge, the hug she gave me was huge and my heart was huge just seeing her again.  We only had a moment to chat before the E.D. came out.

His face was all lit up, grinning from ear to ear, obviously glad to see me.  I was so  happy to see that grin.  At least he didn’t have a lawyer with him. 🙂 We made our way to his office, ghosts still clamouring for my attention.

Some of the ghosts?  There was “Bill” who came to see me everyday no matter what.  Actually there were a lot of “Bills'”. And “Tim” who nobody seemed to like and he beauty of naturescared them because he was a bit crazy but I could see who he was back then, a frightened, rejected man for most of his life.  He would visit and I tried to get him to be a bit more sociable.  Sometimes it worked and lots of times it didn’t.

All through the halls, they spoke to me.

We arrived at the E.D.’s office and I sat in the familiar seat.  He was very animated and very glad to see me which he told me over and over.  I was feeling a lump in my throat.  I had to get the words out.

I explained I was here because I needed to say something about when I left so many years ago.  I wanted him to know how bad I felt about what I put him and the staff through, especially the last 6 months I was there.  I realize now how ill I had been and that there was no choice but to leave.  I didn’t hold anything against him or the organization.  It was a huge part of my life and who I was.  Unfortunately it was too huge to bear.  I couldn’t save everyone.

I also told him how much better I felt mentally.  My life is still a bit off-balance but I am now progressing rather than going backwards or stagnant.  I also told him how often I dreamt of this place (almost every night).  He wanted to know if it was good or bad dreams and I admitted to both, mostly bad.

He was so shocked that I, or anyone for that matter, would come in and say these things.  He also said that an apology was never needed nor did he ever harbour bad feelings towards me.  He could see my strength and I could feel it too.  He thought I was brave!  HA!

He explained how it had been for him and the rest of the staff:

He told me I had been such a fixture there, the staff and clients all felt a strong connection to me and could see me struggling every day.  It was awful for all to watch and he had no idea how to explain to me what was going on and what they were seeing.  Me, who could not see anything at all wrong with the way things were and it seemed pretty hopeless to get me to understand that things were not right.  He ended up putting my health first and making me go on disability.

He didn’t know what a nightmare it was for me after I left.

Now, watching his face and laughing with him and listening to the funny voices he still did that always made me laugh so much, I knew that this part of my life has some closure.

He escorted me to the clinic where I found some more long-lost staff and we reunionhugged and told stories.  Most of the staff I knew were no longer working there but, to the people who still did, I showed off pictures of my granddaughter, my dad and my kids.  They were all so amazed at my Carly and how beautiful and grown up she has become.  I was treated like much-loved and sorely missed royalty.  They were eager to hear about what’s going on in my life and what’s in store for me next.  I felt so…special.

slamming doorFinally it was time for me to go.  Off to the lawyer to slam a door on another part of my life that has been up in the air too long.

The ghosts were following me to the door, waving goodbye.

I stood outside those front doors for a minute wondering if they would follow me.  They stayed on the other side.  But they will have a better, less guilty place in my heart.

Always.

Switching Bottles


Well, my friend Jam is back in town, and ready to party.  The last time I partied with her was here and that was a time I will never forget.  I did write it all down so that helps with the not-forgetting part.  Which is why I’m doing it this time too.  Its great catching up with old friends.

Of course some things never change.  For one thing, just like last time, we were having a snow storm and I was trudging up the street with snow that, in some wineplaces, was up to my knees .  I had a half a bottle of my son’s homemade wine in an insulated water bottle and some 7-up to tame it just a bit.  It is a tad wicked.  No stuffed mushrooms though, just a box of Crunch and Munch this time.

I put on makeup before I left, although I don’t know why.  I guess because I haven’t had a picture taken of me in months, not even at selfie jan 2014Christmas, which is fine by me, let me tell ya.  Tonight, though, there are lots of pictures of me that should just be burned.  I can laugh at them though as long as I don’t acknowledge it’s me in the pictures.  Ha.   I did take one selfie that was pretty good.  I was going for a one-chin look and think I did it.  I did have to reach up quite far with the camera to get the effect I wanted. What do you think?  I’m dreading when Jan gets back home and will upload a whole bunch on Facebook.

So I made it to the door and didn’t fall in a snow bank.  There they were, the girls from the block and Sue(p).  God I love them.  We had snacks, drank some wine and remembered the great times we had.  We also realized that things aren’t like they used to be.  We are all so laid back (old) although it could be because of the cold it really limits what one can do.  We weren’t about to get on a bus and go to a restaurant and spend lots of money on food and booze then hop on another bus and yell things at Shelly with the sole purpose of embarrassing her (“Shelly has a boooyfriieeennd!!!”) while on our way to the casino.  Shelly was so easily embarrassed back then, now she just gives it right back at us AND she says really bad words more often.  That’s fun too but not nearly.  Watching and hearing her apologize profusely to whoever she had to sit with on that bus would make everything just get out of control.

Life was so different then.

Memories of a stinky cab ride

Memories of a stinky cab ride

So what did we do?  I laughed so hard the back of my skull hurt so bad I had to make myself stop.  I swear I was having a stroke or my brain was just trying to leak out the back way.  We started posing for pictures but without our Sue as she left a little early.  She did drink a lot of wine before I got there.

Invaded by the teens.

Invaded by the teens.

Shelly and Jan’s kids were there as well as some miscellaneous others that Shelly seems to adopt.  Mine stayed home. They were mostly pushing cars out of the snow outside the house.  A lot of snow and you’d think people would know better.  These kids were so loud I couldn’t believe it but what great human beings.  Shelly would screech their names, demanding they come upstairs and help the neighbours get out of the driveway AGAIN and up they would come.  Except the girls.  They put on fashion shows for us and made us ache for our youth.

My place is so quiet.

That feeling of friendship, which I felt was missing from my life for so long, was as if it never left my heart.  How easy it is to relate to these women, and to laugh and tell stories.

The best story?  Sue was woken up one night by a stranger, who was obviously drunk and in her room looking for “Jordan”.  She kept asking him what the hell he was doing there.  She got out of bed, was in her nightgown (thank goodness) and followed him out to her kitchen.  (Who are you??) There she noticed he had (Who the hell is Jordan???) helped himself to some snacks and tried to open her Crown Royal bottle (which is so stuck but I bet I could open it).  All the while he kept asking her where Jordan was. (How did you get in here??)  He finally realized that he was in the wrong house (Sue has no idea how he got in there or who he was or who the heck was Jordan) and was going to leave.  He was heading for the door and Sue was worried that he didn’t have a jacket but he left anyway.  She found the jacket (he had set up a nice little bed on her couch). She called 911 and told them about the guy  (that poor, poor man is out there without his jacket.  I’m so WORRIED!) and how worried she was about him and could they please come by to get his jacket so he doesn’t freeze to death.  NOTHING about the break and enter.  Our Sue was just worried about the hoodlum’s welfare.  We were all imagining if it were us and we would not be so calm.  I would have been beating the guy over the head and chasing him from my place, screaming at him to get out.  Jan figured she would have stood there and screamed and panicked too.

Legs up and duck face for Shelly.  OMG we are so HOT

Legs up and duck face for Shelly. OMG we are so HOT

We talked about and remembered some recent firefighter stories,  the crazy diet stories, the backyard fire pit stories, some ex-husband stories (mostly good ones that were hilarious and not bashing them too much), the time when Shelly’s cat wasn’t as, umm, fluffy as she is now.  Hell, we were less fluffy back then too. The times when Shelly and Jan would be on the bus with their kids, someone always seemed to scream at them that they were lesbians.   Which led to some dating stories and questions.  Lots and lots of questions.  But not about lesbians.

It was a good way to reconnect with them.  They are my friends.  They were never gone.  I plan on keeping it up but when the weather gets warmer.  I’ll have 2 grandbabies by then and will be wanting to go show off visiting.  I hope Jan will be able to come back again soon.

Now I have to go to Urban Dictionary and look up what my name means.  Sue’s started off nice but ended up with nasty words.

I’m going to try to post every week again.  That’s my goal so hopefully I’ll see you next week!

Days of the Dum Dums


I’ve had a bad case of brain farts, senior moments and the dum-dums for the last couple days.  I think I should just stay inside but that would defeat the promise I made to myself to go out every day.
BrainFarts-300x181

I went out yesterday, took the bus because I was feeling pretty closed in.  I’ve been sleeping a lot again which is not good.  So off I went to do some banking and then sat in a McDonald’s and had a burger and drink while I surfed on my phone.  I took my time but all the while I felt so foggy and not-quite there.  A nice man seated himself where I could see him and smiled at me friendly like but didn’t say a word.  Well, he looked nice to me.  I’ve been a little lonesome lately.

I checked the bus schedule and found I had plenty of time to get my next ride.  I went outside to wait and realized I was missing something.  No!  My phone.  It wasn’t in my purse.  I looked 3 times.  It wasn’t in my pants pockets either.  Oh no.  Did I really…?  Could I have….?

It might have still been on the tray.  I think I threw it in the garbage.

Panicked, I went back to the McD’s and quickly started looking through the very top of the garbage I dumped mine in.  Noooo.  I was almost wailing!  The friendly man was looking at me like I was nuts (technically…yeah) (and why I keep looking at him I have no idea) and another man who came in just before me was keeping his distance but watching me carefully.  I just knew that one of the two people in the place would either throw a huge pile of garbage on top of my phone or just reach in and  pluck out my phone and run away with it.  I rushed to the counter and tried to explain to the counter person what was happening but she didn’t understand me.  I asked for the manager and he took his time until he saw the panic on my face.  I explained as I ran back to the garbage can.  He yelled at me not to touch the can.

Bedlam.  It was bedlam.

He had the gloves so he started digging.  After a while he lifted the clear bag out of the can so we can look through the sides.  No.  Nothing.  The kindly gentleman customer was wanting to help but wouldn’t get down and dirty.  He did, however, look through the clear plastic and truly looked sad for me.  Then the other customer had a brilliant idea.

Why doesn’t he just call my phone?

Good idea.  Now I have to give my number to a stranger.  Well, I did it and we all waited.

We all heard the phone ring.  Not in my purse.  It didn’t sound like it was in the bag.  The manager said maybe at the table where I was sitting.  It could have fallen on the floor.  I rushed over there.

Good thing I was first.

I felt a weight in my jacket hit me in the ribs as I bent over to look under the table.

It was the freaking phone in my pocket.  doh-homer-simpson-air-freshener

I quickly pulled it out of that damn pocket (doh! doh! doh!) and pretended like I found it under the table.  “I found it!” I yelled triumphantly, holding it up.  Everyone clapped and cheered and I was so red.   I took time to wash the garbage off my hands and ran out of there, yelling my thank-you’s to all, just in time for the bus.

Today I managed to buy eggs and other groceries.  I dropped the eggs twice.  I haven’t looked in the carton yet.  I don’t want to talk about it.

Nor do I want to talk about the bra I bought for $2  through an auction either.

Maybe I should stay home tomorrow.

Reflection


makeupI had to go grocery shopping and this time I was going to look fabulous.  This meant I would have to do something I haven’t done in years: wear clothes that did not consist of sweatshirts or sweatpants and I would wear make up.

My plan about the makeup may seem kind of ridiculous to some of you and it’s really not.  I wore it all the time before I was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and when I still didn’t have any obvious symptoms. I was doing a job I loved, I had friends and my family was intact and thriving.  My weight was manageable.  It was a time of confidence and contentment.  I didn’t wear very much and certainly didn’t need very much either.

Makeup was a simple thing for me back then.  I sorta felt pretty when I wore it.  One day, 10 years ago,  I just stopped.  I really didn’t need to enhance my looks, I said to myself.  I read about it all the time that woman put too much emphasis on how they look.  Really though, I just didn’t care how I looked anymore .

Today, I wanted to go to the store and look like a million bucks.   That’s it.  I didn’t want to pick up men or get attention.  I wanted to see how it felt to look better. I wanted to use this exercise as a way to love myself again.

It’s never easy though, is it?

First I raided my daughter’s makeup bag.  I think she hides the good stuff because all I found was crap.  Some of it was MY old crap.  I found a mascara that sorta had some life to it.  As I went to put it on I realized my eyelids now droop so much I no longer have a crease.  This would eliminate the need for eyeshadow then.

I found a brand new eyeliner and happily outlined my droopy lids until my eyes looked smokey and sexy.  I thought so anyway.

I looked for blush.  The girl never heard of it.

Brat.

No foundation either.

Monster.

Now the lips.  I’ve agonized about this because I tried some of my old lipsticks and they were horrible.  My skin tone is different I guess.  Digging in the kid’s makeup bag I found a lipstick and promptly tried it on then immediately wiped it off.  Yuck.  I saw a lip gloss in there.   I haven’t worn lip gloss since high school.  Lip-StainI tried it anyway and wow.  It was magnificent and not a gloss at all but a “stain”.

My daughter was rather confused when I asked her what a good mascara was to buy.  Of course she thought I wanted to buy HER some mascara.  For the rest of the day she would look at me and shake her head and wonder aloud why all of a sudden her mom wanted to wear make up.  She was very helpful though in picking out what I should use and said I could have her lip stain.

To finish getting ready for the store, I dressed in my very good new jeans and a fancy shirt. I’m not sure anyone would notice these because it was -32C with the windchill and I was bundled up in my ugly parka and salt-stained boots.

So I did the shopping and didn’t notice if anyone noticed me except for the 2 guys who helped me along the way.  The first one rescued my toilet paper that took a header out of my cart and was quite pleasant to me as he tucked it back in there.  I smiled at him with my stained mouth in gratitude.  The other guy prevented me from having a terrible accident when I was trying to climb the shelves to get to an item at the top.  It was my daughter’s favourite drink and this man saw what I was trying to do and simply plucked the can from the shelf and handed it to me.  Since he was very tall, I batted my elongated eyelashes at him (even though he was about 30; just a baby).  He scolded me good-naturedly and then his wife came, took his hand and led him silently away.

She may have been jealous of my eyes and she was wearing sweats.

The cashier was concerned that I would hurt myself pushing the cart to my borrowed car in the lot.  She asked me 4 times if I was sure I didn’t need help out.

Brat.

I seem to have lost focus.

I don’t know if I felt pretty or better.  I did feel comfort with the ritual of putting makeup on and smokeyfussing to make it look right.  I was amazed the few times I caught my reflection and saw how my eyes looked.

It was good to give myself some positive attention for a change.

At the end of the day, my baby granddaughter didn’t notice anything.  Not even that my smokey eyes were now more racoon-like.  All she cared about was chewing on my finger.  Poor teething baby.

I have to remember I should not be rubbing my eyes or raking my hands down my face.

I’m going to wear makeup tomorrow when I go see Dr. G.  Hopefully he won’t decide I need more meds.

Mambo Dating #5


I apologize for the delay in this post.  I was wrestling with old and new demons and have won once again.  Well, I’m getting there.  I need some new ammunition I think.

Well, the saga of my online dating experiences went on.  I think I may have run out of bad guys though so I’ll change it up a bit.  Some good and many bad men have become a part of my history, whether I wanted them to or not.  So like the Mambo #5 song I had various men make an appearance in my life, most very briefly.  I learned from all of them.

One of the things I like about having access to men’s profiles on my selected dating site is the game I’ve had to play to try to read into what they are really talking about.  This isn’t easy in most cases.  The majority of the men I talked about in my last 4 installments had profiles that made them seem like anybody’s dream guy or was so neutral I only found out how bad they were when it was almost too late.

That means, they lie.  Not all do but the many I encountered did.

I wish to give you a few examples and you try to guess the dreamboat I encountered.  All spelling and grammar is included.  Just click on the names and go back to the original post so you can recall their utter charm. I deleted specific mention of places that may identify them.

Example number one:

I am a well balanced man who lives life to the fullest. i enjoy dancing, travel, music, reading, live theatre and much more. my goal/aspirations is to find a woman who is stable who has dealt with past issues/relationships and ready to move forward toward a meaningful relationship. i take pride in myself as a healthy individual without being self absorbed. i am flexable, kind, opened minded, keep up with current affairs and trends. i have no time for negative energy

First Date
i would like to go to a fine outside cafe for lunch and chat to get to know each other. if things clicked, arrangements would be made to meet again to do anything that we’d both feel comfortable doing, spontaneity is cool.

Multiple choice:  a) Pretty Pornographer     b) Bobby or    c) Maxwell

#2:

…The women for me needs a sense of humor. I’m a easy going, jovial guy that likes the simple things in life. You know KISS. That’s me, not flashy just plain me. I like people, so it’s very easy for me to make friends. That’s what I’m looking for in a mate. I’m looking for that women that I can connect with.(Maybe need fish finder?)  I’ve never been married, so I don’t have any children. I own a house in — , that I like to keep clean. I like all kinds of sports, however I don’t play too many any more. Golf, Baseball, and working out once in awhile. I like the beach, especially on a real hot calm summer day. Mmmmmmm – frisbee too…

a)  Bobby  b) Creepy 400 lb Stuffie Talker or c) Dreamy Bald Guy

Okay, one more  #3:

I like being active, I really try to pay it forward all the time. I like down to earth people not those who try to impress the heck out of you with all of their accomplishments. I like a healthier type of lifestyle but I am far from obsessed. I do go to the gym lots but right now it is my stress relief and my social network of like minded people. I want to be a good friend first (chemistry) then all the other good stuff will follow i am sure. My answer to that would be ………..fill in your own blank. I like music,kisses,hugs,lots of smiles,dogs and cats, like slimmer people athletic types just people better sized for me. I really like people who can spell at least reasonably well and who have some command of grammar. Typos happen I get that.

First Date
You lead I’ll follow if it sounds good.

a) Bobby  b) Dreamy Bald Guy  or c) Maxwell

Answers:

1)Bobby   2) Creepy 400 lb Stuffie Talker 3) Dreamy Bald Guy

Those are just a few I had to figure out.

I will end this series with this lovely quote from another dreamy bald guy.  He very kindly gave me his permission to use it.

We have this idea that love is supposed to last forever…… But love isn’t like that… It’s a free-flowing energy that comes and goes when it pleases. Sometimes it stays for life; other times it stays for a second, a day, a month, or a year. So don’t fear love when it comes simply because it makes you vulnerable; But don’t be surprised when it leaves either, Just be glad you had the opportunity to experience it.

We’ve all had that feeling, and its come and gone again, that’s why most of us are here, to try and capture that feeling again, and it is wonderful isn’t it? So if the fates are with us, we will find that person and experience it again, and perhaps, just perhaps it will last forever this time…….here’s hoping.

Oh yeah, I met someone.  He’s pretty dreamy. 🙂

bad but funny dating


I promised I would try to have some nicer, “feel good” kind of dating stories.  I ran out of in-person dates because I’ve spent lots of time flushing them out and there wasn’t many men worth meeting.  I had also promised myself I would be making the first move more often which is really out of my comfort zone.

How the heck do I do that?

I tried a few things like emailing one guy, telling him what a great smile I thought he had.  He didn’t bother answering me back.  One guy said he didn’t like fat chicks and yet another said all my picture showed him was one watery eye and no tits and ass.  So he could care less unless I could meet him at his car in an hour.

This wasn’t working so well.

The Calm Before the Storm of the Bald and Beautiful

The dating site has this chemistry test and matches you up with men who the computer feels you would be attracted to and vice versa.  I kept seeing this very good-looking, athletic-type guy on the site and never really gave him a thought because, well,  he was athletic and bald and very good-looking.

One day, he appeared at the top of my chemistry list.  The number one spot.  I thought I should really let him know just in case he had no idea that the dating site of all dating sites deemed us to be chemically matched.  Not imbalanced at all.  So I emailed him.

Not him but sorta close

You are the number one person on my “chemistry results”.  Just thought I’d let you know.

Smooth, eh?

He wrote back right away, seemingly polite and laughing at my joke.

lol Thanks for that

Not needing too much encouragement, I followed with the winning line:

Me:  No problem..Really you’re like .2543 or something.  Very high.

Him: wow Coolness lol

Me:  K, I’ll leave you to get on with your life as it is now complete.

Him:that’s it ?? no more??

(later) Me: I’m so sorry, I’ve made a terrible mistake.  It’s .23702.  But still the number one position.
🙂 Marie

Him:  Why thanks Marie
said (Vin Diesel)thats me lol chat later grocery shopping beckons

Just to be clear,  I changed his name to Vin Diesel as Vin Diesel is not his real name.  This went on back and forth for a week or more.

Slowly we built up a friendship, with the anticipation of a first meeting soon.  I really didn’t believe it; if you could have seen this guy!  I knew I would never meet or be with a guy like this, no matter what he was telling me. His life had been filled with slim women with jobs and careers not a pudgy on pogey. Besides, I could never keep up to him.

It didn’t matter to me as it was so much fun and not to mention a real boost to my much bruised ego.  He was never inappropriate, just a flirt. We finally moved from emails to chatting. It was obvious from my screen that he was waiting for me each evening. Hours and hours and pages and pages of emails and chatting.  We eventually exchanged private email addresses and set up msn messenger.  This is usually the last step before meeting someone.

I haven’t gotten that far very often.  Umm, once.  See the first installment here for that particular story.

Then that’s the night it went to hell.

How?  Well there I was in the living room of my home on the computer with this guy and waiting for his msn to load.  I was so happy!

Then my son plunked his 26-year-old self beside me and started reading some of what we were typing.  He asked me about the guy I was talking to and what did I know about him. I actually knew lots about him; name, work location, etc.

He asked me where he worked.  I told him.

Jay’s mouth went into a thin line.

He asked me what he did there.  Again, I told him.

His eyes narrowed so much I thought his eyelashes would poke out his eyeballs.

Then, my sweet boy went nuts.

Jay is not one to be soft-spoken or diplomatic.  His yelling at me brought out my daughter, wondering what was wrong.  Turns out that my Bald God worked at the same place where my son’s dad works part-time and its also the school where my daughter was fairly sure she was going to take a course next year.  So there they were; yelling at me in stereo, and my sexy, bald man typing away frantically to find out what was going on.  I finally, among shrieks from my offspring, told him the story.

He wanted to know who my son’s dad is.  Despite my kid and his bellowing at me not to tell him, I told him who it was and how we’ve been divorced for 25 years.  His only reply was not to worry and he wouldn’t say a word.  I apologized over and over and let him go so I could do damage control.

I moved my computer to my room that night.

Later that evening I tried once to talk to him.  No answer.  Same with the next night. He ignored me.

Of course I don’t want to look pathetic so I’ve left him alone.  But what a charge it was to have a man like that interested in me for longer than 5 minutes.

So that’s a better story right?  I can’t imagine it ending any other way.

What do you think shoulda/coulda happened?

a story about bad dates but not so funny


My adventures in bad online dating haven’t been limited to the men I’ve met in person.  No, no.  Remember I mentioned the chat option in one of the previous entries?  This feature is an effective way to flush out the ones who really should go down the toilet.

If it were so easy!

I learned that there are guys out there that hide their profile from everyone else; in other words they can see you but you can’t see them.  I know this because many times guys ask to chat and when I go to find them in the “Online Now” window, they aren’t there.  You can, however, still check out their profile.  You can never see when they are online though unless you and he happen to exchange emails on the site.

Another advantage for this sort of sneaky behaviour is to bypass any parameters you may have set in your email options.  My parameters give a lot of restrictions so it’s not so easy to send me an email first.  Once I send the guy an email then the parameters are off.  This resorts to some people to try to chat with me.  If they don’t have a picture, I tell them to email it to me on the site.  Believe me, the majority don’t because they can’t get through.  Some use really lame excuses about why they can’t upload it onto my email on the site but, hey there sweetness, I can send it to your private email no problem.

I only allowed that to happen twice.  The first guy was fine and it was no problem.  He was a nice guy with whom I became friends with, never meeting each other in person.  He’s a man with many problems and difficulties in his life and appreciates the fact that I am not going to fix him.

The second guy caused me so much grief in a 48 hour period.  He wanted to chat and I said it wasn’t fair unless I knew who I was talking to.  I always want more than one picture just so I can see the guy has more than one picture of himself and not of a model on Google.  So the odds would be that he was more real than not.  It’s not foolproof but it’s better than what the site offers.

So yadda, yadda he didn’t know how to upload the pictures to the dating site and asked for my email.  I checked his profile.  I gave it to him and he gave me his.  We chatted for a few more minutes and I thought I would just clarify something in his profile with him and went to click on it again.  It was gone.  So was he.  I frantically tried to find him, remembering his profile name.  Nothing.

It was so weird.  I stressed about that for a bit and updated all my virus protectors and such.  A while later an email came through:

Hello dear friend how are you doing .? Hope everything is going on well with you, I am Maxwell from blahblah.com hope you remember right.I am just trying to see if the email address you gave me is working so please drop me a line as soon as you receive this message okay. Bye for now and please take good care of yourself..
                                                          Maxwell

I quickly emailed him back:

Hi Maxwell.  Not sure what you’re up to but suddenly your profile does not exist.

As soon as I hit send, I realized what I’d done.

The day turned into night and I couldn’t stop thinking about what this guy could do with the information he could get from my simple email.  My IP address would tell him where my computer was.

He could come here.  I put my daughter and I in grave danger.

I didn’t sleep that night at all, barricaded the door, watching out the windows.  Full paranoia mode had hit me.  I knew this was happening but there was nothing I could do.  I got my daughter up for school as soon as I saw her moving, wanting like mad to get her out of the apartment.  I went back home and walked around and around the apartment.  I debated calling the police.  Nothing had happened so I knew they could do nothing.  Soon it was time for me to pick up my girl.  I kept us out of the apartment for as long as I could.  She became suspicious and asked me what was wrong.  I just said I was creeped out.  I wanted Carly to stay at a friend’s place that night.  She agreed, but not after feeling creeped out herself.  I couldn’t tell her what happened. I didn’t want to go home. I knew he would be waiting for us.

We got to the apartment and I made her stay away from the door while I went in first to check it out.  She was really becoming alarmed.  She kept asking me what happened.  I just told her it was part of my illness and it will pass.  I would feel better with her staying at her friend’s place for tonight.  She packed her bag and I took her to a safer place; at least to me it was safer.

I finally fell asleep from exhaustion.  I slept for hours and hours.  When I woke up I felt better.  I went to the computer planning to do the whole search thing and agonized over my mistake again.

There was another email:

Hello Marie how are you doing this morning .? Hope everything is well with you, sorry for not answering your message earlier ok i also can’t find my profile too and very surprise i think there was a technical problem.. Please send me a message and ask me anything that you want to know about me and i will tell you ok. This is my picture and i hope it’s not going to scare you away (smiling).. Bye for now and have a nice day..

Saying he tried to find his profile was the kicker.  You can’t find a profile unless you already have one.  The email had 3 pictures attached.  Needless to say I did NOT open them nor did I reply.  I systematically blocked him and reported him as a scam to my Hotmail account.  There was nothing I could do on the dating site as he deleted everything he had on it.  This won’t stop him from opening other accounts on the same site.

Maybe he didn’t mean to be malicious. I felt vulnerable enough, though, to have a full-fledged paranoid episode which only happened to me one other time in my life.  Believe me, they are beyond anxiety.

So that ended better than better.  I never gave my email out again.  So, if my readers are on the dating sites please remember this safety tip; don’t give your personal email address to anyone until your third date or you’re getting married or something.

I do have some nice stories to tell and I think I will tell you one in my next installment.  So please stay tuned.  For some of you?  Please don’t read it while walking.

You know who you are.  😛

about bad dates and funny stories continues


I’ve had good feedback for the first installment of my online dating experiences.  There were a few private messages concerning my conduct and how I should be more careful.  I totally agree with my friends about that.  Never, never should I have had someone pick me up at my home.  Never ever should I give out my phone number so fast.  Never, ever, NEVER get into a stranger’s van no matter how much I think I can take him.  I really did learn my lessons and haven’t done it again.  Lucky for me, there was no harm done and I won’t risk a next time.

So let’s talk about Bobby; a piece of work for sure.  Again, a man who’s older than I; 62 to my 50.  Charming on the phone and online.  Musician, articulate, educated. He had an incredible speaking voice.  We talked for at least a week before I agreed to meet him. There must have been warning signals that I missed or ignored.

I met him at the casino where we were going to have tea at the restaurant.  I made it first and sat down in the lobby to wait for him.  A nice looking man came up to me and, after saying my name, held out his hand for me to take.  His hair was dyed jet black and he was balding on top, confirming my original suspicion that the picture he sent me was more than 10 years old.  We walked into the restaurant already laughing with each other and happy to finally meet in person.  That lasted 2 minutes.  We approached the hostess.

Bobby explained, rather loudly and in an almost threatening voice he wanted a quiet table as he was fixing to seduce his woman.  Uh oh.  The other waitresses thought he was charming and giggled at him while the hostess looked for just the right table while he nattered about seclusion and time alone.  She seemed to have spotted one and led us to it.  Right away Bobby didn’t like it.  He felt it was in a potentially busy area.

He kept complaining about the table especially when a group sat down at a booth 2 tables away.  He was so angry and wanted to leave the place altogether.  I wouldn’t go though.  He demanded the waiter move us to a better table.  He gave the poor guy so much flack.  He pointed out several areas to Bobby.  None would work for him.  It was all a conspiracy of some kind.  At this point I was dying inside.  I haven’t even had any tea yet!

The waiter finally let Bobby decide where to sit.  He looked carefully around the restaurant and chose one in an area that looked closed off.  Again they bickered.  Finally, the manager came over and said to just go ahead and sit there.  Behind Bobby’s back, the manager gave me a very solemn nod.  I knew he was keeping his eye on Bobby.  Our tea finally arrived.

I was not impressed by how badly he treated everyone; how loud and belligerent he was when he didn’t get his way.  More than one person there rolled their eyes and ground their teeth.  I couldn’t wait for this to end.

I asked  him questions about his kids who were all grown and about his grandkids.  It was easy to tell he did not want to talk about them.  Meanwhile, he wanted to know all about my illness and what some of the symptoms were.

In no time, of course, he got around to talking about sex.

His feet, sans shoes, ran up and down my legs.  He complained endlessly about the people around us, convinced they were hovering just to listen to our conversation.  I explained to him that he parked us on the other side of the half-wall where the buffet was.  He also suspected that the waitresses, who were busing tables near us, were only doing so to listen in and spy on us. He gave anyone who passed within 12 feet of our table the evil eye and I think he even growled once or twice.  I know he did shout at  someone to mind their own business and move along.

Bobby seemed to have some kind of personality disorder.  I may even guess it’s not regulated by medication of any kind.

After barely an hour, I explained I had to go cook supper for my family and thank you for the lovely time.  He wanted me to pay for the tea but ended up doing it himself.  He started walking with me to the door of the casino.  I told him it was only 5:00 and I could find my car fine.  He insisted he wanted to make sure I got there safely (ha!) and he wanted to spend some more time with me.  On the way to my car he asked if he could call me for a second date.  I hemmed and hawed a bit and said sure, thinking I would just turn him down when he called.  I didn’t want to see what happened to him if he was rejected in public.

As we walked, he yelled at cars to get out of our way, made rude noises at people and generally was a humongous embarrassment.  He held fast to my hand and literally steered me everywhere.  I finally found my car while fending off his questions of what was the biggest penis I ever saw, how many times have I had an orgasm and do I really have a 6 date rule.

At my car I thought to dump my purse in the car right away, figuring I would need both arms to defend myself.  I hung on to my keys though. Bobby tenderly asked me if he could have a hug.  I said sure and gave him a very sisterly hug.

Not so bad.

As I pulled away and started to say goodbye there was his tongue straight down my throat without any preliminaries whatsoever.  He slammed me up against my car with his hands on my backside, grinding against me.  I fought him off pretty easily.  He finally let go of my teeth long enough for me to say “noseconddatenotonyourlife” at which point there was his tongue again.  I just couldn’t believe it.

I finally got him off me and far enough away for me to get into my car and lock it.  He was knocking on the window, grinning and concerned at the same time.  “Can I call you tonight?  I’d like us to do something tonight. I really like you Marie.  C’mon!”

Unfrickinbelievable

No I didn’t hear from him again and I’m so grateful. I decided then and there that I’m going to be the one to seek out someone next time instead of me being “selected”.  It’s funny too, how I always thought I liked it when somebody picked me first.

Part 3 will be coming on soon.  I hope one of these segments will have a happy ending!

funny stories about bad dates


My sister and I went for our walk tonight.  She wanted the details of my dating experiences I’ve had so far with an on-line dating service.  It was good to tell her about my week; I finally could see the humour in it.

And there was a lot.  Of humour, I mean.

I can sit watching the dating site’s in-box feature where everyone you corresponded with will show up; the site making sure you know they’re online and available to chat.

In my case, since I am a chatty thing, there are lots of names there on any given evening.  Almost all these men shall now become a part of this post.

Including the guy who posts a picture of himself 200 pounds ago.  Now I knew how big he was before we met so it wasn’t really a surprise.  What surprised me was how much of a predator he was, how full of himself, and pompous.  It was all about the hunt.  Mr. Octopus by the third date.  He had stuffed animal-toys in his house and they all had names and different voices.  Kinda creepy. He tried to change my diet Pepsi habit, my salt intake and what I listen to before I go to sleep at night.  When I sort of broke it off after a date of more fighting him off, saying we could just start over and take our time more, he decided he wasn’t physically attracted to me.  No problem.  and Whew!

Then I talked to a guy on-line for a few days.  He sent me a picture; it was pretty good but I didn’t believe it was really him.  The guy said he won’t post his picture on the dating site because then he gets bombarded with too many unwantables.  Apparently, I was a wantable.  We switched over to a better chat host and he sent me another picture.  This one took my breath away.  He was absolutely gorgeous to look at.  Johnny Depp and Brad Pitt.  I kid you not.  I was amazed I had this guys attention.  So amazed, in fact, that I missed a few key clues along the way to his personality . But I did catch on in time that he was psycho.

Not him but sorta close.

The night before we were going to meet for the first time, he decided for some reason, to bring up porn.  He asked me if I liked porn.  I said no.  He asked why.  I told him why.  He flipped out.  He wrote in all caps (screaming) that I was a victim lover and help make society restrictive and unbearable to live in.  He called me names.  Really bad names.  But none that I hadn’t heard before.

I disconnected and proceeded to block him from anywhere I had talked to him.

Then I went and had a shower.  I had almost met this guy.  Scary stuff out there.

More recently, I found a fellow on the site, who said he had a rare form of arthritis.  I wrote to him to ask him what kind it was.  He answered back and we tried to chat.   I gave him my phone number so he wouldn’t have to type so much with one finger.  We had such a nice time on the phone I agreed to meet him the next day.  Turned out he lived a block or so away from me.  Because of his age (60 to my 50), my safeguards (name, address and phone number to my kids) he picked me up at my place.

Well I was waiting at the agreed upon time when he called to say he would be late by 20 minutes.  Okay with me.  I tried to do something better with my hair.

I went out front of the building to wait for him.  Along comes this van, hurtling itself around the corner to my street, screeching to a halt, backing up to turn around, narrowly missing a parked car.  He sped up to the door, almost resting on the boulevard.

My thought was:  oh dear.

I opened the door and there was this smiling, very wrinkled face looking back at me.  He was practically bouncing up in his seat.  He kept saying”Oh wow, you’re real. Wow what a woman” and checking out every inch of me.  He continued to do this as we were driving, swerving into the other lane jumping the curb once.  I made him stop the van for a moment so he could collect himself.  He turned on all the lights in the van so he could show me his deformities.  They were absolutely severe.  That wasn’t the problem though.

He smelled really bad.

Those who follow my blog know about my sensitivity to odours.  Gooood ones and baaad ones.  This was a bad one but it would get worse.

We got to the pancake house where George announced to everyone that this was our first date.  Everyone made a fuss over us and led us to a quiet table.  I had tea and he had coffee.

Not 5 minutes into the conversation, he suddenly stopped talking about his deformities for the fourth time and asked me what my favourite sexual position was.  He really did.  I didn’t tell him, of course, but did tell him how offensive that was.  He was so sorry but asked again in a different way a few minutes later.  The waitress kept coming over, cooing how cute we were and looking at me like I must be some kind of saint.

George finally left the table to use the washroom so I took the opportunity to frantically text my daughter to please call in a few minutes and ask me to pick her up.

George came back to the table excitedly shouting to the waitress to please save him, bring more coffee.  I sank lower in the booth.  He sat down and started rubbing his leg up against mine.  I told him not to do that.  He said it was an accident.  I kept checking my phone. He kept rubbing my leg and making these grunting noises.  I finally told George that my daughter has to be picked up shortly.  He said he would love to come with me, with a leer on his face and his tongue sticking out from between his missing teeth.

My daughter finally texted me back saying “but mom I’m going to my friend’s house remember?”

Great.  Good job.  We need a code.

We finally got back in the van and were heading back to my place.  I know I was quiet and it was mostly because I was trying not to throw up.  With him drinking the coffee along whatever other smell he had on I was having a hard time not being sick.  I don’t mean to be disrespectful about this or his deformities.  It was so bad and too much for me.

We pulled up to the front of my building, almost hitting the same car.  He put the van in P and flung off his seat belt and held open his arms and said, “c’mere”.  Oh Jeez.  I opened my door, saying I had to run or be late getting my kid.  I nearly ran up the steps.

The next day he sent me an email saying he thought about it but he didn’t feel we would work out.

Double whew.

The next guy is a whole post on his own.  So this will be at least a 2 parter if not a series.  Stay tuned.  It does get better.

Depending how many frogs I keep almost kissing.

I’m not even going to pretend to know what these guys are thinking.  This has been a whole different world for me.  When I met my last fella on the same site he was the second guy I met.  It’s not so simple now.

Later, I’ll tell you all about Bobby (not his real name).