Every day is better than the last but not as good as the next

 

In an attempt to discover more about myself, I’ve recently been pretty open and honest with those around me (both near and far). For the better part of my teenage and young-adult life, I’ve been pretty reserved in my decisions. Some might even go as far as to calling me “square”. I’ve never really been offended by it – I mean I’ve always been true to what I think was/is best for me, which is more than enough. After all, it brought me here. Here as in — I’m a university graduate. Here as in – I’m working full-time with an awesome group of people. But by the same token – my reservations have left me with this sense of “What if?”

Let me give you a quick example, but first I want to make it clear that, in no way, do I regret my decisions – I’m simply contemplating the journey that brought me, here. I’ve spent some quality – much needed – girls’ time with my partner in crime over the weekend (– you know who you are) and she came across pictures of our first year in University. Ah. Life in residence. There’s nothing like it. But as she kept swiping left to uncover the next shot of a “Common-room get-together-on-a-Wednesday-Night”, I was not only shocked by the number of pictures she had – but even more so by the fact I was nowhere to be found, in any of them. Zilch.

I was surprised, but at the same time, I wasn’t because I know exactly where I was when those pictures were taken… I was tucked away in my room. As my sidekick and I reminisced about our high-education experience, she’s always the first one to say that her first year in University was her best. Hands down. Not necessarily because she scored her the best grades or that she enjoyed the independence. No—she remembers meeting countless people and making new friends. She completely immersed herself in this new chapter of her life, while I chose to seclude myself and read.

Don’t get me wrong – University/college life is an important and significant part of one’s life (both intellectually and financially). There has to be some sort of balance between both study and party aspects of it all. Personally, I know my scale was tilted to the one side. At the time – I was in long-distance relationship (and had been for about 2 and a half years) and I felt like I had to limit my outings and partying to be respectful of his feelings. But as those pictures flashed before my eyes – I felt like I had missed out… on a lot.

My parents have raised me to value my education – and in no way would I ever want to compromise such a trivial part of my future. I’ve always been responsible and cautious, however, I think it would’ve been nice to let my hair down once in a while. Long-distance relationships are not easy, and it’s hard work. Nonetheless, in retrospect – I should’ve given myself a bit more room to breathe.

Whether you’re in a long-distance relationship or you live close to your significant other – trust is an essential piece of the puzzle we call a relationship. I kept my social life at a low in hopes of strengthening that trust, but now as I revisit this part of my life, I don’t think I completely understood the meaning of trust. At the end of the day, the person you’re with should make you strive, dream and motivate you to be the best person you can be. And I’m afraid that sitting in your bed, reading “Les filles de Caleb”, for the umph-teenth time isn’t my idea of being the “best person I could be”. I could’ve been doing a million other things – but instead I chose to withdraw.

He never stopped me from going out and having fun, it was never an issue. I purposefully chose to stay in instead of going out and those choices stem from the need to make him feel as though I was loyal and faithful. That’s where I think the definition of trust was a bit misconstrued in my mind. To trust someone is to have confidence in their ability and willingness to be loyal and faithful. Not the other way around.

Now, even if I felt as though I missed out on some pretty amazing memories – I can’t turn back time. Which is why I’ve taken it upon myself to be more open and try new things. And when I do meet that special someone, wherever he is, I will not prevent myself from doing certain things that could ultimately help me grow as a person, but instead I will take it upon myself to make him feel as though he can trust me with everything he has.

No one conjured up any luck by hiding away from the world. It’s time to get up, dress up and show up to start #gettinglucky.

 

 

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When all hell breaks loose: I choose to dig my heels a little deeper

Fight. What a strong and impactful word. I mean — to fight for something or someone is the courage to put everything on the line despite the vulnerability of knowing that by doing so, it won’t necessarily turn out the way you had hoped for. BUT, you’re still willing to take a chance. To fight is more than to put your fists up and throw a punch, but rather standing up for what you believe in. For what you deserve. Although my heart was broken – I still have some fight in me. I’m determined to pick up the pieces, swallow my pride, and fight.

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There’s something to be said about fighting for those you love – and that’s precisely what I’m going to do. Now – some of you may disagree, claiming what’s meant to happen will happen. And I agree – I think life throws you curveballs just to keep you on your toes – or even redirect your path. Entirely. And in that moment – during that split second when you feel your heart stop beating and you can’t seem you catch your breath, while all these memories flash in front of you – time stands still.

That’s when you fight.

 

Fight for those I love. Fight for what I stand for. But most of all, FIGHT for me.

They say one’s true colors surface during the worst of times. Some choose to run away, while others dig their heels in a little deeper as they roll up their sleeves. Some may have their reasons to run away – run away from the pressure, run away from the hassle, even run away from the pain. BUT, I’m choosing to challenge it head on.

Because after all – I’m choosing to fight for the one I loved and still do. I’m choosing to fight for the one that was / is there, by my side, through thick and thin. I am choosing to fight ME. At the end of the day – you can tell a lot about a person’s character through their ability to deal with discomfort, and to be honest – I choose not to be remembered as someone who has taken the easy way out. I choose to be remembered as someone who is strong and resilient when dealing with adversity.

This may be my last heartbreak – and it may not. A breakup is painful, gut-wrenching and infuriating – and can make you say things you may regret. And if there’s one thing I’ve realized it’s that taking a knee and begging someone, who has decided you are not worth fighting for, to stay — is not the definition of fighting for the one you love.

The one thing I am most disappointed about my breakup is uttering four words – four words which have haunted me for a while now. “I. Will. Do. Anything.” I think through all of this, I’ve felt so angry and upset with myself for letting myself sink that low. They say in order to move on, you must forgive.

I forgive myself.

I forgive myself for losing sight of what’s important and what I deserve. As the initial shock of his words shook me to the core, I stood there – afraid. Afraid of being alone, afraid of being too weak, afraid of not being good enough for anyone else. Stressful situations make you say outrageous things – and if I could take those words back, I wouldn’t. No – That’s not a typo. I wouldn’t. We’re humans and we all make mistakes and instead of resenting what I said, I choose to forgive.

As I said earlier – we can really see one’s true colors during the worst of time, and from what I can tell I am someone who is willing to bend over backwards for those I care about the most and being thoughtful is a great quality to have. However, this very quality is my BIGGEST flaw. If being too thoughtful is even a thing – then, I totally get it. I enjoy doing, making, buying and planning things for those I love – and even more so for the person I am with. I often get so caught up in pleasing them – I completely forget about what I want, what I need and what is best for me.

A person’s true self shines through during the most difficult times (– or in some cases, life changing times). But ultimately – it’s not those worst times that define you, it’s how we deal with them. I’m choosing to deal with this testing situation by fighting and forgiving. I am fighting for the one who will be by my side forever and I am choosing to forgive myself and move on.

 

I may still have miles to go — but you can count this as my first step towards  #gettinglucky.

 

M.

Un[conventional]

If I could describe myself in three words, I would choose: Lazy, Dishonest, and Demanding (Oh—and I’d like to think I’m funny too.)

Not bad for an introductory header, right? I’ll preface this post by saying that my best-friend flat-out called me crazy for even thinking of sharing this with all of you, and you know what? She’s right, I am a bit of a nut. But, aren’t we all? I mean – I’ve shared quite a few personal things on here in the past and I’d like to think most of you are up to speed on the horrid dry-spell my love life has been under, but that’s all about to change. For those of you who’ve been catching up on my shenanigans on a weekly basis you are most likely familiar with my “creating our own luck” motto, and for those of you who’ve recently joined the band-wagon for this crazy ride, welcome! A few weeks ago I published a post which included a list of things I would be forced to try, while my roommate was away in Cuba. Honesty is a very big thing for me, so I will admit  I am guilty of failing that mission (–I mean, complete FAIL!).

And as much as value honesty, I think there’s no such thing as “real” failure, because, no matter how ridiculously crazy a situation is, there’s always a lesson to be learned. blog26 So amidst my “lesson-learned”, I decided to roll up my sleeves and take another shot at it. I didn’t get to check most of the items off of that initial list, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let it bring me down. This brings me to the second part of this post.

You see—I’ve been obsessed with Bruno Mars lately, and his songs inspired me to get my sh#t together and make something of this not-so-fabulous situation. After deciding to take matters into my own hands, I did a bit of research and here’s what I’ve concluded:

  • Cupid is a lazy @ss*%&$
  • I need to find a way to meet guys in a more efficient manner (–coffee shop stakeouts aren’t cutting it, obviously.)

Now I know these conclusions probably don’t seem like much (–I definitely won’t win a Nobel Prize or be published in some scientific journal, but hey, they’re good enough for me.) SO … here’s the reason my roommate thinks I’m crazy: I’ve decided to carry out a little experiment of my own and I’m calling it: UpUrsCupid: a 30 day dating experiment (–I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I personally thought the title was very fitting.) Doesn’t sound so crazy, right? I didn’t think so… but I forgot to mention one, itsy-bitsy, detail. The title should actually read as such: UpUrsCupid: a 30 day online-dating experiment.  See the difference?

Not only did my partner-in-crime think the idea was off-the-wall; she thought I was even crazier to announce it to the world. Online Dating is often associated as platform for tacky and desperate singles who are hopelessly trying to find love. I know that online-dating has a bit of stigma attached to it, for various reasons, and people tend to think that these online platforms are for deadbeat-potatochip-eating-48-year-old-low-life’s who are looking for someone to cater to their “needs”, but I’m on a mission to prove otherwise (–well try to, at least.)

I-Pad and freshly brewed iced-tea in hand, I decided it was time to conquer the beast that is the “online-dating world”. First, I read various reviews on different sites (i.e. plentyoffish, match.com, eharmony, icupid, etc.) to determine the platform that would best fit the goals of this experiment, and after a whopping 15-minutes of research, I decided to create a profile on match.com. In most cases, people are embarrassed to admit they’re on websites like this one because they fear what those around them will think;  I’m clearly not one of them. My initial thought was that online-dating was for people who were a) too lazy to get out in the “real world” and meet other singles; or b) for those who would much rather create an online profile and pretend to be someone they’re not (–Catfish, anyone?).

Nonetheless, I’ve come to realize that, like me, a lot of people are busy with a million other things and don’t have the time to schedule a four-hour timeblock to examine the nearest pub or bar for a potential date. I’ve been active on match.com for the past week now and the future is looking a bit brighter. I mean—I’m not walking to the altar tomorrow morning, or anything like that. But I can say that I have been on a date and I had a great time, so much so that we’re meeting again this week. I do want to make one thing crystal clear: I may be doing this as a part of an “experiment”, but ultimately I plan on be 100% me, and whatever happens, happens. I’m not going to twist the truth to make my next few blogs more entertaining (–my life isn’t a reality show, after all.) Basically, what I’m trying to say that this may be a 30-day trial, but every aspect about it will  be genuine and real.

You know what — this online-dating thing might not be your cup-of-tea, and that’s totally fine. But as you know I’m big on poking chance’s bubble and seeing what comes of it. Sometimes we need try new and creative ways to get what we want, and this may be an unconventional way to find “love”, but no reward comes without risk.  I challenge you to think outside of the box and find a innovative way to start #gettinglucky.

 

M.

Crooked Smile.

I don’t think I’m going out on a limb here and surprising you a well-kept secret that’s been stored in a cave somewhere for the past 53 000 years when I hit you with the following statement: as humans, we all have that “one” thing we’re self-conscious about; the difference is how we deal with it.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that I’m a perfect example of dealing with insecurities, I’m just trying to say that if you feel insecure about something, whether it’s physical, emotional, or intellectual, you’re not alone. Looking back and reminiscing on few specific pictures of my adolescence, I can still remember how I felt about my insecurity; and the hardest part is probably looking at it today and even now thinking it sticks out like a sore-thumb.

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I can assure you, I’ve grown to feel better about myself (–not without the help of some oral restructuring, of course), but I’m a thousand times more confident today, as I sit here confessing this to you, than I ever did five years ago. Admittedly, I’m still kind of embarrassed of some of my pictures, but the reason behind the embarrassment goes far beyond the face value of the still-image. Take this shot for example, I look at it and the first thing that comes to mind is: “OMG! My wire-filled mouth looks awful!!” My initial reaction is to feel self-conscious about my smile (– I mean, let’s face it, a mouth full of intertwining metal and elastics doesn’t scream out “Bombshell”); and, to be honest with you; I think this response is some sort of defense mechanism.

As much as I felt ashamed about the way I “looked” in this picture, I think I’m more humiliated by the very thing that can’t be “seen”, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is the way I felt. I mean—you probably can’t tell from this goofy shot that I felt incredibly insecure, right? But that’s the thing about insecurities; they often go unseen to the public eye but can cause an individual so much grief. And, as much as I would love for everyone to feel confident and glowing; I recognize that someone, somewhere, will always have something that makes him or her feel insecure.

I’ve been writing about luck for a few months now, and although some people may think that others around them are “luckier” when it comes to looks, personality, or brains; but I think today’s take-away is that you were born and blessed with what you have today, but it should in no way affect the way you feel about yourself and the goals you want to achieve. Life is what you make it, right? You may think you’re not as smart, as beautiful or as funny as the next person, but I can guarantee they’ve felt inferior to someone, once or twice before.

I’m not trying to say that everyone thinks negatively about themselves, or anything like that. I sincerely believe that we all feel or have felt insecure about something. However, we all have the ability and strength to overcome our discomfort and become confident superstars who can achieve anything they set their minds to. And you know what? You may be thinking: “Oh– how easy for her to say that, she has no idea how I feel…” and guess what?… You’re RIGHT; I don’t know what you think or how you feel, because we’re all different. Take it from a girl, who spent five year trapped in a dreadfully looking mouth-contraption, that learning to live with an insecurity, is, by no means a “walk in the park”, but it takes twice as much effort to live your life bearing the weight of your “crooked smile” on you shoulders, I would know. The moment you stop letting your insecurity control your life is un-coincidentally the moment you’ll start #gettinglucky.

 

M.

Waiting For That Sucker To Show Up Already

Scrolling through my Facebook Feed is like a constant reminder of how everyone else is in a relationship, getting married or having a kid. Don’t get me wrong – I’m happy for them but it makes me wonder if I will ever stumble on my better half; or am I going to be single for the rest of my life?

Now, I don’t plan on turning this into a full-blown pity-party (–they’re getting old). Admittedly, I’ve thrown myself a few of them in the past year. O.k. fine! I may or may not be guilty of spending a day or two… or five in bed watching YouTube Videos – the bad kind. I’m convinced I can’t be the only single girl out there who’s done this… Waking up at 10 a.m. and reaching for my iPad and typing www.youtube.com in the search engine with a swift click on the ENTER key. 0.22 seconds later, my screen is filled with clips of anything and everything. That’s the beauty of YouTube, you can find and watch anything you can think of… and honestly, most of the time, you’ll stumble upon a clip like “Guy-In-Banana-Suit-Riding-a-Uni-Cycle-On-The-Sidewalk”. (–to be honest, sometimes I wonder how these people find the time to actually record, edit and upload their videos. Some days, I can’t even find the time to throw my dirty clothes in the laundry basket, let alone film myself baking a chocolate cake just to blow it up in the backyard afterwards. I must have poor time-management skills. Sheesh.)

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Sidetracked. Where was I… Oh yea! My iPad screen was jam-packed with all sorts of videos, from makeup tutorials to stand-up comic performances. That’s when I saw IT – my eyes locked on it like a hawk grips its prey. My finger made their way to the screen and clicked on “World’s Sweetest Proposal Ever!” Oh puh-lease, like you’ve never done it?! Even you, not-so-single ladies, I’m sure you’ve browsed through the wide selection of wedding proposals once or twice. I mean – I’m sure the day your husband got down on one knee is a day you’ll never soon forget, but come on…. You can still watch and appreciate a guy proposing to his girlfriend mid-air as they’re skydiving from a plane 30 000 feet in the sky.

And for all of my single ladies, tell me you’ve never watched a few (–ok maybe a dozen) of these clips and wished that someday a guy would have the balls to plan out a week-long scavenger hunt which takes you to a sandy white beach on the Florida Coast as he proposes in front of a string quartet while dolphins are parading off the shore. –Don’t be ashamed, I’ve done it too. We have to entertain ourselves somehow, while we wait for that sucker to rack up the nerve and ask us out on a date, right?

The next thing I know, it’s 4 o’clock in the afternoon and I’ve watched 46 engagement videos and 15 “first dance” surprise choreographies with a full bag of Kernel’s Cheesy-Dill popcorn and a handful for kit-kat bites (**Side note to those of you who will be in my wedding party, don’t think you’ll be standing next to me at the altar but leaving me to fend for myself on the d-floor as I bust out some fresh moves to Queen’s Fat Bottomed Girls. Sorry not sorry. I promise to pick out a flattering but inexpensive bridesmaid’s dress, but I can’t promise I won’t force you to join me in a spontaneously-planned dance number. There are some things in life you just can’t make happen. **)

I guess what I’m trying to say here is… it’s fine to indulge in a weekend-long wedding-proposal marathon; but the important thing is to not let it bring you down. I know how tempting it can be to slip into a whirlwind of “what’s-wrong-with-me? and why-am-I-still-single?” once you’ve turned into a serial-cutesy-video-watcher. BUT resist my friend, resist. The second you hit bottom of that bag of popcorn; it’s time to turn that computer off and go out and smell the roses (–o.k. so you might want to shower first, but once you’re squeaky-clean GET OUT and do something). Meet with a friend for coffee, or just mosey your way over to the coffee shop by yourself with your latest read in hand. You can’t wallow in singleton-self-pity forever. You definitely won’t meet Mr.Right while you’re “vegging out” in your kernel-covered bed (–unless he breaks in your apartment, but that would be weird. Unless you’re into dating “criminals”, than that’s a whole other story).

**SPECIAL NOTE to the guy who will have big enough kahunas to get down on one knee and propose, I’m expecting nothing less than a hot-air balloon ride over the Grand Canyon, as Bruno Mars serenades us with “Just The Way You Are”. Seems pretty reasonable, right? I’ll let you in on a little secret: pull out all the stops and you’re bound to be #gettinglucky (–that night, and maybe the next few after that. Mom, I hope you didn’t read that last part.**

 

M.

 

 

Wait… What?! There’s another kilometer of this S*&T?

“Oh my god! SWEET BABY FRIGGIN’ JESUS!” were the semi-exact words that uttered out of my mouth (– o.k. fine more like heaved out) this morning as I found myself at the 4k mark in my 5k race. — I know, I know… five kilometers doesn’t sound like a very long distance, but for someone who hasn’t been running since February, I’d say I finished in a reasonable amount of time, without stopping to catch my breath… not even once (–which I still find mind-boggling).

You see—if this race would’ve happened back in December, I would’ve crushed it like a fly on a thawing spring morning (–yikes, yea that analogy sounds a little disturbing and cruel now that I think of it). I’ve been running around like a madwoman for the past four months and there’s no sign of it slowing down in the next three. The logical and sensible part of my brain keeps telling me that I should be in full energy conservation-mode on a Sunday like this one, because I have one hell of a week ahead of me

blog 23 Odds are I’ll be regretting this whole “lets-run-a-race-even-though-there-was-still-white-sh*t-on-the-ground-the-last-time-I-trained” by Wednesday. Thursday – tops. Now I don’t want to come off as a lazy couch potato or anything remotely resembling a sluggish vegetable root, but I haven’t made the time to squeeze in my regular run in my schedule for quite some time now. And let me tell you, my thighs and calves are making that very clear right now.

To be honest, I could sit here and rant about how I know I should be more active, bla bla bla… But with five summer classes and still working three days a week at my “second home” in good’ole Kanata, I’m giving myself a break to breathe. After all, this is the very last semester of my undergrad and I couldn’t be any happier; but, on the other hand, I desperately need to focus on school. I can’t ‘eff this up.  Now’s definitely not the time to be slacking off. I mean—I’m in the home-stretch here, ladies and gentleman, the final inning (–wow, did I seriously just make a baseball reference?!). That dreaded-painful-excruciating final leg of the race is one though b#&*@.

So as my right foot crossed the four-kilometer pylon, I honestly felt like I was going to throw up (– yea yea, I know… just another side-effect of being poorly prepared). My legs wanted to give out and just lay there as a handful of determined women zoomed passed me. The burning feeling in the heel and soles of my feet made me want to just piggy-back the blue-spandex sporting lady in front of me. BUT I didn’t! SURPRISE EVERYONE!! I didn’t throw myself on the grassy curb, nor did I just casually leap on this woman’s back to hitch a ride to the finish line. I must admit – those two scenarios seemed extremely appealing to me at the time, but I kept going. Taking on step at a time. Left-right. Left-right. Controlling my pace and focusing on my breathing. Left-right.

As I felt this nauseous feeling growing in the pit of my stomach, I thought I was never going to make it across stupid finish line (– it was like the land of Far-Far Away in Shrek, and I was Donkey! Are we there yet?) Looking ahead at the distance between where I was and that tiny pink arch was discouraging, to say the least. The music was blaring in my ears and I looked at the faded-grey pavement slowly travelling under my purple running shoes. I kept telling myself “This will be the last time you’ll ever be running a race. What the hell were you thinking? You weren’t prepared for this?”

That’s the funny thing about life – more often than not – we feel unprepared to face what lies before us. And during those tougher times we start doubting ourselves as we try to understand why we chose to make, what seems like, a poor decision at the time.  I mean— I can’t say I was extremely happy about jogging (–or more like staggering) down the Aviation Parkway, but I knew I had to cross that finish line one way or another.

Sometimes we’re faced with difficult situations and we realize that it would be much less painless and uncomplicated to take the easier way out; but as I kept going, I reminded myself that I was doing this for me and it was time to suck it up. I wasn’t going to stop, or latch on to someone else or even walk the rest of the way… I was going to finish this race, sprinting.

So I guess what I’m getting at here (–while, undoubtedly embarrassing myself with my mediocre preparation skills) is that I pushed through till I crossed that finish line. And as I look ahead, I realize I’m most likely ill-prepared to face the heavy course-load that awaits me this Summer; but as I feel the wind whipping against my face and my nose starting to burn during those last thousand meters, I won’t give up. After all—those who give up will never walk (–or run) across that finish line… making their way to #gettinglucky.

 

M.

Pick-Up Line, Schmick-Up Line

I’m still shocked.

I was walking from my class to the library (– where I plan on spending 80% of my time during the next three months. Summer classes –oh the joy). I was walking among the scattered students on campus with my bag in hand, minding my own business. My eyes were glued to the inter-lock pathway (–to be honest, my best-friend would be very disappointed to know that I haven’t ditched this bad habit yet) when all of a sudden this young man jumps right in front of me and says: “I’m sorry, but I was looking at you as you were walking by that sign over there (*points at sign*) and I couldn’t help but come over here and tell you you’re beautiful.”

“Actually, your petite frame reminds me of that little green fairy…” Confused, I replied “UH- you mean Tinkerbell?” His eyes lit up and he said: “Yes-yes! Tinkerbell, that’s the one! Your bright eyes and positive attitude makes me want to say that you’re from England or Ireland… am I right?” Still in awe, I replied “No I’m actually from here.” He went on: “Listen, I meant to come over here and charm you but quite honestly my brain is like moosh right now, and I can’t think of anything to say.” Still glaring right at me, he told me he would like to take me out for a drink sometime and get to know me…

blog22_FotorAnd you know what I said!? “I’m sorry, I have a boyfriend…” That’s when his expression shifted from hopeful to “What-a-b*#$@” I still can’t believe those words slipped from my lips. I mean, let’s be honest here… I don’t have a boyfriend, but as selfish as it sounds; this guy was NOT my type. I told him I was flattered, and wished him well and walked away. Yes—you heard me: I walked away from a guy who had the courage to approach me, out of the blue, and tell me I was beautiful and asked me out for drinks, and dummy over here flat-out rejected him!! 

I’ve been going on and on about how Cupid’s purposefully steering single guys away from my path and then one happens to stumble across it, and what do I do? I tell him I have an –effin’ boyfriend. I mean – I clearly remember asking Cupid to throw me a bone in one of my previous posts, and much to my surprise, some guy pops up and tells me I remind him of Tinkerbell (–still don’t know if that’s a compliment, but I think she’s cute… so just go with it). But during the first five seconds of that brief interaction, my mind was already made up. I had no intention of ever going out with him. Is that bad? Am I a bad person? I’ve been complaining about my more-than-lacking love-life for the past few months and here I am rejecting the first guy who approaches me with kind words.

That brings me to thinking about expectations and attraction. I don’t have a list of qualities and looks I’m attracted to that are set in stone per se, but is it wrong for me to reject someone without even getting the know the person.? I have a feeling that a few of you would probably say something like: “Looks aren’t everything and you can overcome them once you get to know the person.” I feel awful, but then again I keep reminding myself that my reputation isn’t ruined because I told one guy I wasn’t interested. It’s not like I said something like: “Uh first off, who do you think you are, thinking you could pick me up like that?! Secondly, I’m an 8 and you’re a 3, I would never go out with you.” That would’ve been over-the-top harsh. I felt like if I lied and told him I already had a boyfriend, I would be letting him down easy, because I wouldn’t be rejecting him based on the fact that he wasn’t my type, but rather because I was already taken…

So let me backtrack a bit and tell you about what happened to me a few weeks ago… I was at work quietly minding my own in my cubicle (–but seriously though, wheeling my chair around is practically impossible! The logical explanation for this would be the lack of space, right? WRONG! In fact, my rolly-chair can barely move an inch because it’s being mangled by a hundred pairs of shoes scattered under my desk. I’ve received emails from my coworkers on this matter. No.joke.) Sorry – I’m getting off track here, shoes will do that, I guess. So as I was saying… I was at my desk typing away (–more like clawing the keyboard. That poor thing…doesn’t even know what hit it!) I was probably drafting an email, or something of that nature when one of my beautiful coworkers pulled up a chair and sat next to me. 

Now you might think this is odd, I mean—how can another person manage to drag another chair into what’s sounds like a trap filled will wedges and sling-backs?  Well to that i answer you with this: it wasn’t without a struggle (–she had to drop-kick a pair of nude pumps in the process.) As she crossed her legs and flattened her dress over her knees, she looked at me intently and said: “I’ve been reading your blog…” (–Oh sh*%! is the first thing that came to mind. My track record hasn’t been very spectacular. I’ve been complaining about my crappy-love life, talking to an imaginary character and ranting about naked men!? Yikes!) You see — I thought she was going to say something like this: “So I’ve been reading your blog… and it’s horrible!” Pretty irrational, right? I know — I mean she’s one of the friendliest and kindest women I know, but during those few seconds that followed I was somehow convinced that she would hate it! Still looking right at me, she said: “I’ve been reading your blog and I love it!!” 

Phew! I exhaled, with a huge grin across my face. Thrilled with her comment, I wasn’t merely ready for the words that came next. “I think we need to find you a guy!” Just like that I heard angels signing “AHHHHHHHH” (*high-pitch angel voices). Surprised, I thought she was joking. However, she went on and asked me what I was looking for in a guy. Dum-dum-duuuum… I sat there and thought to myself “What am I looking for?” Seriously, what am I looking for? I mean I have a few deal-breakers, but other than that I’m not too sure. I feel like if I was to draft my “wish-list” I would limit my chances to meet that “someone”. But then again, I would be lying if I was saying I didn’t have any preferences (–Mr. You-remind-me-of-Tinkerbell would be a great example of that) I sat there on my rolly-chair, torn. 

Now, as you can predict, this isn’t where or how this story ends, in fact this is only the beginning. They say good things come to those who wait… well god knows how much longer I’ll be waiting, so I may as well make the best of it. And bring you along for the ride, of course. I can’t tell you where it will lead, or if this office bombshell will stir up some luck and find me that perfect “someone”. But there’s nothing like giving something a shot to start #gettinglucky.

 

M.