license to date?

The other day I spent a painful amount of time sitting at a Drive Safe Ontario office converting my BC license. An hour and a half I will never get back but, like most experiences it got me thinking.

The office was chockablock, all ages, everyone there holding their number eyes full of hope as they looked at the screen waiting for their number to appear. Like Bingo.

Then there were the fresh faced, eyes a sparkle teens coming in holding their yellow slips who had just passed their road tests, skipping in, smiles, taking snapchats and selfies in the line up. Freedom was upon them, a photo and a vision test away, and they were about to venture into unchartered territory, this was the beginning of a whole new world.

In order to do most fun things you need a license or similiar, travel (passport), short or no lines crossing the Canada-US border (Nexus), making money (a degree or similiar), marriage and divorce (license), but what about dating? With all the repercussions that can manifest, why haven’t we enforced a license to date? 

Think about it, we are allowed to run wild here, but the impact we have in other people’s lives during the dating phase no matter the length of the encounter can be major, everlasting, even scarring. 

A girlfriend of mine is just getting back in the game, also newish to Toronto, she decided to jump into the deep end and start the process. So far so good? Negative, so far it’s been over pleated khakis and dudes that still live with their parents, and they are in their late thirties. Red flags.

But if we get back to this notion of a license to date, how do we issue these? Do we work on a graduated system? Like you get a ‘L’ when you start out – a learner – and as long as you don’t completely mess it up, you get graduated to a ‘N’ and if you don’t completely ruin anyone’s life at this stage you get your full dating license. Bitches. 

I really think we are onto something here, so stay with me. You can’t get a passport let alone a nexus card if you have dodgy past, you have to wait it out if you get a DIY before you can get a license again, we can’t put countries safety, or drivers safety at risk. Dating is no different, heart break, betrayal, the anxiety of getting to know a complete stranger. And we run around doing it like a bunch of maniacs. If we were made to get licenses would we do it? Would it be an achievement? 

As for me, I did get my license in the end (drivers that is) a vision test, a payment and a photo later. Though I still protest we should still be able too smile in our photos, when I commented to the clerk she said ‘really? Are you going to be smiling when you get pulled over? Fair enough, well I might if the cop in question looked like he belonged in Magic Mike. 

i want it now. so give it to me.

Oh sweet hedonism. In present day, we are so used to having it, having it all, having it now, if not sooner. So when all of a sudden what we have our sights on isn’t immediately in our realm, we tend to go a bit….postal.

For three years I was in the cliched big fish small pond scenario. Now, as the new kid, I was starting fresh, and with that, comes that proverbial one step forward, two step back, or the cha cha cha, depending on how you view things.

They let me out the other day (not like that) to see my first client, it was like a virgin all over again. A very big deal when you are a vendor, the first time you are allowed out in front of a client.

Flashback to summer 2013, my first big outing with Mr. Dash, Washington State bound, and Mr.Dash had enough faith in me to bring me along for a big one, to slay a dragon cross border. We won, Mt. Dash, his wit, knowledge, humour, and me, and my purple dress. So seriously, when he asked why we had won the business, well his knowledge, my dress. The dress became my sword, my secret weapon.

Three years on, though the dress is a classic, I didn’t feel right busting it out on this one, I needed to go bigger, and it was Wednesday, so I had to wear pink.

Anyway, fake it till you make it, dress the part, blah blah blah, meanwhile it’s about 50 Celsius and I’m sweating like I’m in the Bikram room. They don’t teach you how to handle the humidex in business school, perhaps they should.

Thankfully in the meeting, in a room with AC, well this fish felt right at home, but sans Mr. Dash. Habit is a funny thing, I was so ready to go down the route of humour, when I had to literally bite my tongue and sit on my hands, and then I realized, you have to earn the relationship. You can’t just expect it to be immediate. This was going to take time, I had to be patient, something else to add to my list for my year of firsts.

And for me obviously, these days it is all about the work stuff. The immersion, the culture shift, the fitting it, or rather finding my footing, my niche in the professional sense. But that being said, it does not mean I have forgotten about the single girl struggle, that is all too real.

I was reminded of the dynamics of dating, the other afternoon at the Amsterdam Pub, 37 degrees, Jays for the win, and I need a drink. Sitting bar side is a fellow Toroto walking enthusiast, a couple of innings and drinks later, we start talking men and dating. She decided to give the online dating thing a try, a struggle because she said, it’s time consuming, why can’t we just skip all the awkward chit chat, the getting to know each other, and just get into the relationship? And she’s not alone here, most of us given the choice, would fast forward to a spot of comfort and ease, rather than muddle through the preliminary stuff.  She ends of connecting with someone she thinks seems worthy. They meet, they chat, drink, share a bite, then the conversation moves from the surface ( part of town you live in, what you do) to family, so…. he says are you ok with dating someone who has a kid? Not one to be caught off guard she says, yep all good. Oh great, so I’m a dad, I’ve got a 14 month old. Pardon? Yeah, my wife and I split, I couch surf, it’s a work in progress.

This dude, hedonist. Ambitious but a hedonist. Honour your place in your life. Not the time to be online dating, maybe improve thee old credit score and find a place to live? Just a suggestion.

Nurture the journey. You can’t rush a good thing.

the new kid.

Are you cringing? The answer is probably yes, if you have the slightest bit of social anxiety, or you just don’t like change. It’s like how you feel doing a California lane change across the 401, minutes before you realise you were about to miss your exit. Terrified.

There are really two outcomes you can count on when you are the new kid, either you’ll rise into white knight territory, or not.

I never was the solo new kid at school.  It was always comforting to know that come September, even though you were moving schools, so were all of your friends. Power in numbers.

Starting a new job, well you don’t have the same luxury, you truely are going it alone. Now this was like starting high school as a freshman, but having two super cool seniors in the ranks. I had them, and thank goodness ran into one of them my first day, the beauty here is the relief that they can introduce you to others, you start to gain some credibility.

 

I knew I was about to be faced with navigating a new work world, my fit within a new work family, finding my footing in the city (literally). All of a sudden, I found the pace was fast, I was dodging street car tracks – heels don’t mix well with street car tracks, neither do curbs, as I found out having tripped walking up to the Ritz residences with Beau for my first formal/offical dinner party welcome to the 6ix – I was mortified, the doorman says it happens all the time (they must be paid to say that) , so given how unpolished this was, how was I actually going to fare at work? And calculating the humidex (it is actually not 30 celsius, it was more like 50,000 degrees – this changes your summer work attire immensely). It dawned on me that for the first time in a very long time I was in uncharted territory. I loved it.

I was missing Tech-Man and Mr. Dash, the inappropriate comments, the loud laughs, the comfort of knowing you had people around you that could offer you humour and wisdom.Mr. Dash, the last time I saw him before the big move, offered  his words of wisdom, he  had cautioned, careful the grass is never greener, and both literally and metaphorically it wouldn’t be, but the sun was sure shining brighter.

Anyway, I digress, it is one thing to be the  new kid at work, but another to be a new kid in the city. I had successfully gotten myself slightly turned around on numerous occasions, without the mountains (my cheat sheet for knowing where north was) I was at a loss. Solution? Big sunglasses, and darting into a storefront, and thank goodness for maps on phones, you can at least be a mess discreetly.

Thankfully, I began to find my stride (minus the heels), started connecting with kindreds at work,  found myself being taken under the wing of others, and being invited to take part in a secret club… oh wait that was suppose to be a secret wasn’t it.

However, recognising that over the past few weeks that I was in fact feeling discomfort was strangely comforting. It reaffirmed to me that taking this leap was the best decision I could have made at the exact right time of my life. In resisting against complacency, I was finding new strength, setting new goals and shaping a new life.

 

chchchchanges.

This time of year, bags are packed, hugs are given, planes, buses and taxis are full of smiling happy folks enroute to week long adventures. For those under the age of 18, this ritual is known as summer camp.

There is nothing better than summer camp. You get out of town, you have camp friends, which are sometimes so much better than the school friends you’ve had all year. Why? Because you choose to go to camp, you find your kindreds. You are out of your comfort zones. Amazing things can happen.

For those in our adult years, in certain occupations, the same can be said, only it isn’t called summer camp, it is called conference.

Conference, for the majority of organisations, well more so for the people who work there, this time of year is just like summer camp, but with cocktails.

There are set wake up times of course, roll calls, breakfast buffets, your standard activities, of golfing, team building, and in some circles drinking until it is last man standing.

At one particular conference (theirs not mine) on an otherwise standard Tuesday night, the events also included group FaceTime chat with Bubba Lee and Beau. It was like they were stowaways under the covers on their bunks with flashlights trying not to get their comic books (or maybe more like their dirty magazines), and rye confiscated by the camp leaders.

Me, currently in limbo, in the throws of my big chchchchanges,  which  included glamorous activities like packing, doing paperwork, spending way too much time on hold, and getting ready for the much anticipated cross country move, this group FaceTime was much needed comical relief, and of course, those of us who have conferenced before know that there is always at least one good story to come out of the week long events.

Especially when Bubba Lee and Beau are involved, at this particular conference having a reputation for being absolute annual debocordy, I had to wonder why group FaceTime was now apparently on the agenda?

Bubba Lee was first to explain, well more like vent, WTF is up this year? 5 years ago the bar would be packed, now you’re lucky a light is on,  everyone has gotten old and dull.

Ah yes, the top heavy organisation. In someways a great thing, can speak to the culture of the organisation, people want to stay, they feel committed (or maybe should actually be committed).

Because there can be some not so good that happens when it is top heavy. Let alone the bar staff twiddling their thumbs on a night when it would normally be chaos. If things are truely top heavy, then this is really a prelude of things to come, the thing being a mass exodus, retirement, death.

Then, at this point, unless their is a stringent succession strategy, you are really hooped. Yes you will have the bright eyed and bushy tailed keeners coming in to take the reigns, but when the success of an organisation is really sales, and lets be real, we all know sales succeed and sustain based on relationships. Relationships, need to be nourished, take time to grow, to foster trust,  and these things that don’t happen over night.

Anyway, not to get deep, I mean we are talking camp, so, to  parallel summer camps and conferences, a week long immersion seeing the same people day after day for a week, especially when the location is not your standard, this is breakthrough. This is where relationships forge wth your work family and things truely begins to flourish. And of course, the better the conference, the more incentive to stay with the organisation, hence the top heavy. Knowing that annually, or biannually you are going to be reunited with your besties, likeminded souls. And unlike some standard family reunions which can be fuelled with hostility, grudges and all sorts of drama, work conferences (normally) tend to be focused more on the good, the achievements, celebrating that everyone is getting away from the standard to be with their people for a week.

So my advice to Bubba Lee and Beau? Conference is what you make of it. Give it a year or two, the top heavy will be gone (retirement, termination or death) and the two of them can initiate a whole new breed of newbies into the camp.

Hmm, maybe not the best advice to two troublemakers, but at least I’ll know I’ll get a good blog or few out of it 😉

 

 

the exit strategy.

Up here in Canada, it is officially training season. That coveted time of year where there seems to be one run after another, and for us westcoasters the circuit tends to start in early spring with the Sun Run, then the 10km series, which of course leads into the BMO half and of course the mother beast the full marathon. This of course also results in injuries, and to mitigate these, runners alike find solstice in gentler activities, such as yoga, pilates and Sunday Netflix binging.

I had decided that as part of my cross training, I should take advantage of two of the three activities (yoga and Sunday Netflix binging). In true epiphany form which of course leads to blog material, I found myself in between full locust, a posture that most of us can’t wait to get out of once we are in it, we enter into in with gusto, sometimes forced, but once we are in it, it can be hell and we want out. Out of hell, and we really don’t care how we escape. In this particular class it was a double whammy, an Esther class.  So when Esther (everyone needs an Esther class) citied as we were all in between second set, that she had read a quote ‘relationships, yoga poses and jobs, should all be exited thoughtfully and carefully’ I perked up. So much truth in this.

Confronting because sometimes, we blow the exit. We’ve done everything right up until that point, and then we suck. We are so focused on making first impressions, leaving a mark, being the best, or an illusion of perfection.  You should always exit exactly how you entered, preferably swagger (if you have it) graceful, well dressed, present in the moment.

And if  not?

The exit might fall flat, be unmemorable, you end up with an injury, a dodgy knee, or even worse, you break a heart. And then this becomes cause for gossip, an urban legend that refuses to die, and you are the star player. Urban legends rule here, especially in relationships and workplaces, those who pulled the ultimate Houdini, or those who set up their desk for the day for a standard 9-5, and then left, like as in disappeared, never to be seen again, laptop, suit jacket and all left in the office, Months later to resurface in an office across the country. These are exits that are memorable for all the wrong reasons.

The other piece of the exit is how the receiving party responds. After my announcement last week, the white knight said he was held hostage after he had announced his exit at his past employer, to move over to a competitor. Held hostage for a whole two weeks. Painful, and unnecessary.

There are countless anecdotes online that an organisation will never be as good to you as they are in the beginning when they start to court you. Just like the beginning of a new relationship. When you are both on your best behaviour, in the honeymoon phase.

A good relationship, well no, a great relationship will, if it ends also have a lovely exit. And in the work world, with my exit, the respect, love and support was overwhelming. Further proving what a fantastic company they are and what an amazing bunch of coconuts the folks are.

Sometimes exits are inevitable, so if this is the case, what is harder, a poorly planned exit, or missing the exit all together? And staying on course, whether it be in a relationship, a job or a yoga pose,  on cruise control when in reality that is the last place you should be. So, you have to ask yourself if you’re willing to risk fumbling through an exit, or locking yourself into a long term something or other that isn’t serving you, or someone else, anymore.

We are continuously told to look forward, to keep our head up, to become uninterested in looking backwards because, as goal setters, we are in fact actually not heading that way. Don’t miss the exit, it is in front of you for a reason.  Exit with care, think of how  you want to be remembered. First impressions mean the world, but exits are even more significant.  The solution? Dress the part, be graceful, be deliberate, do not rush,  but do not linger, as they say, what is for you will never pass you by. And if that is the case, don’t pass it by either.

the break up.

One beautiful west coast spring evening, I sat stunned on my bed. Stunned, with a  glass of chewy red in hand. I was for the record, a living, breathing trifecta. I was stunned, buzzed, and struggling to say out loud five words.

I tried uttering the sentence with different intonations, like Lady J has advised, that one time at band camp (kidding) no that one time when my mum had given us ladies of the family, tiara’s for Christmas, and we were all introducing each other with our regal names ‘Duchess of Silveridge’ etc. and working on our royal entrances up and down my staircase, hand wave and all, I think we also took formal portraits, sans Corgies. We had consumed copious amounts of wine ok? No judgement.

Five words. No matter where I placed the emphasis in the sentence,  I couldn’t get it to resonate. The concept was live, it was happening. But it was taking all my might to grasp it.

And dare you ask why? Oh go on, be brazen. You know what I’m like, a word vomitter.

The answer?  Well it really came down to a situation I had let happen, a happenstance.

It in the most dramatic fashion was leaving one great love for the one. Breaking up with the great love, and in my case, well it was actually going to be quite amicable, the love being left, was almost in a sense ushering me out. The love knew it was time, our love affair was over, I needed to move on to bigger things, and the love in question? Well they would stay put, that was their fate, they were not moveable. Potentially, one day, in the future, I would come back to them, but it was too soon to say, as they motioned, you are going to take over the world, we will see you.

And the break up? Everyone always wants to know when and where. Well for us, this great love and I, when we broke up, we were in the throws of our standard ‘nooner’. It was sunny, a gorgeous day, and then we were interrupted by a phone call.  Beau.  His and I’s plans for our west coast cocoon had been unexpectedly kiboshed, so in a moment of an epiphany, on my noon hour date with Stanley, (of the Park variety) running in the sun around the whatever its called gun, I stared up at the Coastals, gazed in awe at the Lions, and in one moment uttered 5 words to Beau over the phone.

Up until this point, these 5 words,   Vancouver was to me, my love affair, the great love I needed to move out of and on from a personal relationship that just couldn’t sustain. And after the fact, and into present here I was with an opportunity of a lifetime, thus far of course, let us never count on something being the be all end all, right? So if Beau is the one, what was Vancouver? If every relationship  has a purpose, what was Vancouver to me?

Well, Vancouver, my great love, proved to be my core shaker, shoulder to cry on, home base,  foundation, trust, entertainment, love,and in the end everything you should come to expect in a partner.

In my moment of reflection, after I had uttered my 5 words, a core shaking statement of my own, all were silent, and then agreement, yes, this was it.

And finally after all that, the 5 words stood strong, they resonated, they gave me goosebumps, the fire was lit.

I was moving to Toronto.

 

excuse me, is this space taken?

In yoga class earlier this week (these days where I tend to find my epiphanies) the instructor kept saying in tree pose ‘make space for your body’ ‘open up, make space’. Out of my peripheral it wasn’t just me that was struggling with this, it was the majority of the class. The looks of confusion, the strained faces, the wobbles. This  of course got me thinking about how often we make space in our day to day, how uncomfortable it feels when we aren’t used to it, and more importantly how receptive we are to actually doing it. Committing to it, especially when it comes to relationships.

Making space in your life for a relationship takes work, even when it is the right relationship. Making space in the literal sense does of course come to fruition with the ever inevitable move in. When you both decide to try this whole shacking up thing. All bets are off here, regardless of how many others you’ve lived with (whether it be roommates, ex’s, family) making space for each other is a learning, a big learning. And tends to be even more so, when more time has passed since your last space share, and those of us who enjoy our space get so used to having things our own way. The longer you live alone, as a single, the greater the learning when you shift into space sharing.

We are (and I hate the term I am about to use because it is grossly over used, we need a new metaphor my friends!) creatures of habit. We like what we like,  and especially in our spaces. I, being slightly OCD, like my space just so. Hey we all have our quirks. Others like their space to look like chaos, they find calmness in the randomness. Again, a matter of choice.

There have been countless articles written analysing the entire idea of living apart together (the LAT relationship), where you physically exist in the same space, however you are not necessarily sharing space. An easy feat if you have the cash and can coordinate seperate wings, servants, schedules in your humble estate.

Or maybe it is less dramatic, I know couples where one will get up 2-3 hours early than the other on weekends, just so they can have some alone time, or others that are night owls and need those hours alone at night to recharge, I’m sure those of you who are fellow introverts, or even extroverted introverts are nodding in agreement 😉

And then there is the opposite, I once dated someone very briefly who at 42 had never actually lived on their own.  It had been straight from mum and dad’s to living with his now ex, and how at 42 he found himself struggling with the notion of living alone. The issue, he couldn’t come to terms with having space, and I was digging the fact that I had some.

And it isn’t gender specific, I have met women who refuse to end one relationship without another one to fall into. They fear the space, they need to reassurance, the security, and they assume they will find this as long as they don’t have to exist in solo space.

And now, present day with Beau, here we were, nearly biweekly, bidding adieu, (yet again but only temporarily)  months after our chance encounter. Living in airports as part of our careers we had both become accustom to, yet now things had flipped. The work trips were not an attempt to get away from one another, but instead served as time to reflect, and maybe to be so dramatic a reinforcing of the long, in anticipation of being together once again (wow, when did I get so sappy? Do you think there is an opening as a ghost writer atDanielle Steele?).

We all struggle in making space, finding your own lagom isn’t just about the physical space sharing, we should be looking at making space in the metaphorical, or fluffy sense. This  is more so about inviting that person into your life, into you as a person, your psyche, your space.

In the end, we all have our routines, or preferences, some more structured than others, but, when it comes to relationships, you have to make a decisions about how you go about inviting that person in, making space. With the goal of course to not lose yourself, so in the end we still need to be making space for the one we’ve loved all along, ourselves.

take the last bridge to goalville.

Goalville. You know the place, or rather the never never land you have entertained. And with that, you’ve stood on the edge, looking at the the bridge to Goalville. The bridge, well this is scary, because this is potentially how you might in fact cross to the place where you will be bigger and better. This in itself should raise discomfort, and quite frankly terrify you. Both the destination and the journey. The how you end up crossing may become irrelevant, the point is that you, yes you, you orchestrated this, you did it, you crossed the bridge to Goalville. The sometimes rocky, potentially against code bridge, you were brave enough to cross the bridge.

I struggled after I completed by MBA, with what was next? What was my next achievement? What would feed my soul, my need to make a difference as much as what I had felt coming out of my MBA?  So what did I do, I got married.

Nice one.

it was not until a flight (yes most of my epiphany’s occur in the air) that I realized, 8 years onward, post divorce, that what I really needed to give myself was was a swift kick, a shift in goal setting.

Changing up your goal setting, is a challenge, as a perpetual academic, and also scary, when you think about what you are used to.  Thinking about how we have until this point measured achievement, academic ones specifically, it is very cut and dry. You either do well, or you do not.

In the real world, benchmarks are more fluid and subjective. This is frightening.

So, for over achieving academics, options you reach a point where your options are to pursue more academia (I can literally feel my dad grimacing), take a random course, which likely won’t do much to get you excited, or finally to shake the snow globe, see where it all would land.

I say  shake the snowglobe, because we all deserve to do more than just exist.

 

stranger danger.

I travel frequently. Shocking I know. Never saw it coming, did we? I’ve gotten very used to travelling alone, almost to the point where a couple of colleagues are thrown into the mix, it feels very unnatural. It is so easy to travel solo. So much so that it has on occasion during my year of firsts prompted me to indulge in some solo travelling for non business purposes. I know right? Stop, collaborate and listen.  This is luxury. You are on your own agenda. You don’t have to go do anything you don’t want to do. But of course, travelling solo for work, especially when you add flight delays, crowded airport lounges, sometimes you end up finding commordoary in a fellow traveller.

Then there are those who are the complete opposite, you know those who live and die by the code, stranger danger. Speak to no one whom you do not know, do not make eye contact. And under no circumstances do you travel solo.

A couple of weeks ago, I was on one of my frequent flight routes, which happens to be under an hour. You’re basically up in the air long enough for a water and a cookie, then the next thing you know you’re descending and the flight attendants are prying your half eaten cookie out of your hands. Anyway, I settle in next to my seat companion, both of us opening our respective padfolios and get to work. Meanwhile, in front of me a woman my age, starts panicking, pleading with a very elderly woman to please switch seats with her so she can sit next to her boyfriend. Basically ushering this woman to the back of the plane. The flight attendant sees this drama unfolding and calmly says with a resting bitch face, ma’am you know it is only a 5o minute flight? At this point the girl actually stomped her foot, she was throwing a proper temper tantrum.

Seriously? What would really be so bad about sitting next to a stranger? What would happen if you had a conversation or, just sat in silence next to someone you didn’t know What is it really that we are so afraid of?

Are we afraid of this person being a total psychopath?  And honestly, if they are, you might get a good post out of it (I once sat next to a guy that was a doppleganger for the unibomber). Or are we afraid of finding a connection? Again, a great story to share. The flip side, and I have to wonder if this was where Miss. Temper Tantrum was coming from, are we lacking in the amount of trust we have for our partner? Are we more worried about them being overtaken by the dangers of strangers? And in a bigger context are we afraid of love?  And more importantly,  are we afraid that what we have found or settled for is in fact not love, and now we have to either sit in misery, or deal with it. So which is scarier?

Again, maybe its me, I talk to strangers frequently, so much so that Nic actually pulled me aside in YVR for an intervention, citing she was worried that one day, in my solo work travels I just might actually be kidnapped. I responded with Russell Brand.

 

 

verbatim.

A common goal among singles, with the start of a new year and a commitment to a new you is to dabble in one or more of the numerous dating apps, sites or match making services: you know Tinder, Happn, Match, eHarmony, Elite Singles, Christian Mingle, Vancouver MatchMakers, etc.The rationale here is simple, there might possibly some one or some one(s) out there that you just haven’t met yet.

Being part of the masses, and of course to add to the research, I elected to take part in this practice, going above and beyond the Frosted tips tinder strategy of just swipe right for everyone (amateurs).

Below is a snapshot of messages received over the course of two weeks from the lovely men in our fair VanCity. Now as a disclaimer this is not a shaming exercise, but rather to highlight the creativity and angles that people use in pursuit of a mate. Step right up single girl, your dream date could be behind one of the messages below!

Bachelor #1: I actually read your profile (yes, stroke me later hear me, now)…I have a magical feeling we would get along famously…See u in the kitchen in 10; we got gingerbread cookies to make, cuz they ain’t gonna burn themselves….I sense a chakhral holy nexus of possibilities here, And sense a calmness of soul…and saw your indelible photo and profile. Selcouthly Scrumptious smiley smile – ebbs and flows- and inviting eyes, revealing a hint of your warm aura, or maybe I’m wrong, and you’re a tyrant! 

Verdict: High, taking the piss, or just plain crazy cakes.

Bachelor #2: Msg 1: Okay first off I just spent like an hour writing this message and then I couldn’t send it due to your settings so yes I cheated to be able to send you this but I put so much effort into it I couldn’t let it go to waste, don’t hate me!! 

Msg 2: OMG you hate me don’t you? Why aren’t you responding? You seem so nice and I love your photos, please give me a chance?

Msg 3: Am I scaring you off? F! I’m so bad at this, I don’t know what to say, can we just please meet for coffee in like 5 min?

Verdict: You are assuming I am going to hate you because you allegedly wrote me a message and it disappeared? And you’re assuming I have time in my day to drop everything in 5 minutes? No, thats childs play, whoa tiger, tone it done.

Bachelor #3: I’ll be straight up with you about my  involvement with a certain division of the US government so I can’t really talk about it, well not on here anyway, if we met up for a date then of course I would tell you in person but it’s just not something I can chat about openly …saying this now I’m sure it it will scare you off but I would rather be open about it now then to spring it on you after our 8th date and find out your not okay with it. 

Verdict: So, we are having 8 dates are we? Hmm, ok. But more importantly when do I officially get to become a spy?

Bachelor #4: hey, how are you, would you like to get to know each other and meet up sometime we can go for a bite to eat or coffeeshop, I’m looking for a committed relationship, fall in love and open to threesomes.

Verdict: Love the diversity, long winded sentencing and lack of proper punctuation, oh and your openness, you must also be on a year of firsts quest?

Bachelor #5: Hi, welcome to a nice life, take a right into love lane and then a left at romantic. Continue south to the heat of never never land and float over to cloud 9. If you wish to continue north into mile high club this will lead to utopia.

Verdict: Does my Nexus pass work enroute to Utopia?

Bachelor #6: Sometimes I wonder why God allows bad things to happen to good people. For example, how have we never been on a date yet?

Verdict: Smooth, did you just watch the State of the Nation? And, what about the atheists? the radicals? Terrorists? Don’t they all go on dates?

Bachelor #7: X. No really guys, X. Girlfriends of mine flagged this one pretty darn quick, and the kicker? He’s just photo shopped me out of some pictures, include a wedding photo, because apparently he looked that good in a suit that it is online dating worthy. His LinkedIn photo is apparently the same. Yes single girl, those are my diamond earrings dangling,yes my dress really was that stunning, and no you cannot borrow that pair of Manolos. The phone call that I got from a girlfriend, was basically her silent laughing with intermittent snorting, code for I have something to tell you and you’re not going to like it, you’re going to love it. God bless girlfriends.

Verdict: Funny? Yes. Sad? even more so. Clearly he is didn’t learn anything from his marketing/PR ex wife, reassuring to know I was actually good for something.

Bachelor #8: A photo is worth a thousand words, but in order to avoid the photo shame, let us just say Bachelor #8 has swapped a headshot with a McDonalds Ice Cream cone, chocolate covered phallic symbol, with the tagline: seeking a no limits Sub.

Verdict: Will there be ice cream involved if I agree to be a Sub?

Bachelor #9: I am only writing to you because I have extremely high standards (just ask my friends) but I think you could be it. I am so confident that I think should plan 3 dates, instead of one. I also want to tell you what a great package you are getting with me: I own multiple businesses around the world, I helped a community of women escape the Taliban,  and I live on Davie St, and I am not gay. I am so rare, I am a dating unicorn, oh and I see dead people. Once we start dating, I like my coffee with brown sugar, not many people do, you know. It is a sign of intelligence, this is probably why I got into MIT. Anyway, you are really lucky I contacted you.

Verdict: Oh, yes, how lucky. And I think I need to not be so selfish here, you should really hold out for someone in your league, I am so not worthy.

Well there you have it folks, for those of you who are terrified of the online community, I am sure I didn’t do you any favours, and for those of you in the trenches, I am sure you have your own stories to add, so please comment.

And, in the interest of thoughts becoming things, note we have not concluded with Bachelor #10, in my mind Bachelor #10 should be the real deal, and in the interest of manifestation lets just keep that open shall we?

Worst case, this ends up being a two part, three part, or multi verbatim series…