Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Episode 12: Why I Suck At First Impressions With...Boys

Hola losers!

 Now I believe this will be the last and final First Impression episode (sheesh I feel like I'm on the Bachelorette..."I'm finally stating to get to know these guys and develop some real feelings" Yes we all know that none of those guys are on it just so they can get famous, make out a little and then reap some serious cash benefits...while also becoming more attractive to the ladies who probably wouldn't have considered them a sexual partner before but now are being called to them to fulfill the lifelong goal of sleeping with someone semi-famous).

Now this post is very dear to my heart. Not really. More like it's dear to my biological drive to find a mate and the constant cry of my ovaries to have young. Now I know you perverts want to hear more about my ovaries but that's a special story for another time.
I recognize I said ovaries, but in case you haven't passed biology this is a uterus

Today I'm going to talk about men. More specifically how I manage to find, court and date men. It's okay to take notes here, since I know you all probably need at least a foot in the door to at least make eye contact with someone of the opposite sex.

So I'm going to start with how I snagged my most recent boyfriend (wow that sounded way more degrading than I meant it to...yeah no I meant it to sound that way). It is a tale of a true dating master at work. I tell you...I had planned this line to the very syllable. I'll set the scene.

So we were going on our first date. He had texted me, asked if I wanted to hang with him that night, instead of our arranged date the next day. I was totally prepared. Men go crazy for me, what can I say? I was so excited! (not) So I decided to really gussy myself up for the occasion. My pre-date ritual went as follows:

First, I decided against a shower. I figured why? I had showered a couple days ago, it wasn't necessary to smell or look clean.

Second, I decided I would wear an old toque that I hadn't washed for a while to cover up the hair I had decided not to wash.
this isn't my toque...he never would've spoken to me if I wore such an embarrassment

Third, I decided to wear a really thin t-shirt in spring time. I didn't need to keep in body heat.

Fourth, I decided it would be a good idea to go to a "bonfire" with him and his group of friends out in the middle of the woods where no one could hear me scream and cell signal did not exist.
except I imagine mine would be more scary...less sexy and far less six packs. In fact it would look nothing like this

Finally, I decided I should probably add a little bit of eau d' toilette to the ensemble! My friends so happened to be cooking yam fries at the time. Perfect I thought! I'd smell of home cooked meal and I'd also get to stand in front of the oven to get warm.

Now I had thoroughly set myself up for success. The date was off to a good start. No way he wouldn't fall desperately in love with me now! On his way to pick me up he got lost, fine a minor set back in what was sure to be a wonderful night...especially because I had really dressed to the nines.

Finally, he arrived. I bounded out the door with warm wishes of "Call me if you get raped!" and "Please text me every hour so I know you're still alive!" from my friends. Such confidence!

I bounded into the truck and before he even got two words out I realized that maybe I had been to heavy handed with the yam fries perfume. Concentrated yam fry stench in the cab of a truck is like being hit with a chemical weapon. It was in that moment I decided I had to save this date with the best line I could think of.


Now to digress a moment, I'm a nervous talker. When I'm in awkward situations I either get silent...or if I find that the person I'm with is also shy I start talking like an idiot. I'm not talking word spittle...I'm talking full on word vomit caused by alcohol poisoning. That shit is a never ending stream of vomit.  It has always been this way. And most of the times it comes out something like this.

Here I was, locked in this truck, the smell of yam fry pervading the air. Hanging between us like unspoken promises of yam fries yet to be shared. Fine. It was more like I smelt like the grease disposal outside of McDonalds and I think he was hoping (and praying to every god known to the human race) my intelligence would make up for the lack of personal hygiene I was practicing.

I had to save us. We all know how well I function under pressure. I figured this was a time for me to really shine...my sparkling personality to sweep him off his feet. I took a second and with all the confidence I had I declared...

"I'M SORRY THAT I SMELL LIKE YAM FRIES"

It was a piece of my finest quick thinking. He had really had a taste of who I was in that moment. I was surprised he didn't ask me to be his girlfriend right there. Better yet, to marry him! The rest of the truck ride consisted of me trying to outdo this beautiful opener by discussing how I hate rap music (one of his favorite music genres) and how I am a vegetarian (he is a full carnivore). Truly a magical evening...provided by moi.

Moral of the Story:
Although there is the obvious "don't stand in front of an oven full of yam fries before a date" moral. Digging deeper we can see the underlying message here...Don't agree to go on a first date with someone you don't even know to a "bonfire" in the "woods" with his "friends"! It's a stupid idea! Who would do that!
Kids, never EVER  go on a first date to the woods with a man you don't know....unless he promises candy. Then it's fine...clearly if he has candy he can't be bad and must be totally trustworthy!
Has anyone seen this movie?


Sunday, June 3, 2012

Episode 11: Why I Suck At First Impression With... Important People

Now continuing with my series on how terrible I am at first impressions, I decided to talk about one of the stories I have buried so deep about myself that it's still hard to talk about. It's one of the first impressions that you assholes are going to love because you'll get to laugh at more of my misfortune. I recognize this is the point of my blog but, this story...well I've only shared it with a few people. And yes, this did actually happen.



Now to clarify, when I say important people I don't mean your mom (although she didn't mind my first impression if you know what I'm saying. If you don't, you shall not pass! ... this point in the story because you need to be reading one of those blogs about a cute hippy couple who is having and/or just recently had a baby and feels that everyone in the world should follow their journey through finding vegan baby food and how to get their babies doing downward dogs.)

Anyways, what I mean to say is that by important people I mean famous people. Yes that's right kids, I've met a famous person. Well actually a couple but no biggie. I mean when you find out who it is you're all going to be so jealous because you all know at some point you wish you had the chance to meet him. This story was about our first meeting.

When I was younger, I used to love the show Canadian Idol. All three seasons they could afford to run it because the ratings were so horrible, but that's besides the point. Now on season 2, I fell in love with the man of my dreams. His name? I think you all know it.

Kalan Porter.


Yes boys and girls, I had a crush on the man who won Canadian Idol and I was convinced we were meant to be together, he had just been with all the wrong women. His sweet curls seduced me from the moment he first sang out to the moment he cried after winning. And he was coming to my home town to play a show.

Of course I took this as the universe's sign that we were destined to meet and the moment we did he would fall into a love coma and sweep me away in his half assed tour bus because Canadian Idol could only afford a slightly painted, half renovated school bus for their talent. But no matter! He would make his fortune and I would be Mrs. Kalan Porter. All I had to do was think of the perfect thing to say when I went up to get his autograph. Come at me bro.


So I bought two tickets, of course I needed moral support and a witness in case he wanted a shotgun wedding right then and there due to my sparkling personality and dazzling wit. Which I mean come on, who doesn't want to marry that?

The night had arrived. My friend and I got gussied up, took our Kalan fan material (okay more like my Kalan fan material but she volunteered to take some so I looked less crazed and more... admiring). Anyways, we were off to make my destiny come true. It would be only a matter of hours until I was married to the man who won Canadian Idol.

The show was what was to be expected. I got teary, screamed "I Love You Kalan!" which I'm almost certain he heard my musical voice and it was like finding Cinderella's glass slipper. He had to find which girl owned the most beautiful voice he had ever heard in his lifetime. But, I digress.


After the concert came my moment. The autographs. Now I knew that whatever I said to him had to be organic and I trusted that some higher power would step in with the perfect witty line that would win his heart.

Fuck.

We waited in a line that lasted eternity. And a day. At this point I had screamed to much and I was thristy, but could wait. Kalan was worth any suffering, I would have walked the sahara desert just to see him. Okay...that's to much but I would at least give him the last bite of a decently good piece of chocolate cake.


Finally, there he was. God's light shone around him like he was heaven sent. My eyes hurt beholding his beauty. Still nothing witty came to mind. Alright, I was starting to sweat. It's okay I reassured myself, I am the wittiest person I know! I never, ever do anything that's embarrassing or otherwise!


The moment drew near. We were next. Still nothing. Shit. Expletive I didn't even know yet. Several other words that made me feel better. Fine. Just clear your mind. Using jedi mind tricks we shall pull something out that will wow him.

Kalan: "Hey guys"

Me:*oh shit oh shit, play it cool* "Hey" *good, good one*

Kalan: "how are you guys tonight?"

Me: *here's your chance. Something original, it has to be something, ANYTHING, other than good. Got it* "I'M THIRSTY" *fuck yeah.*

Kalan: "Umm, oh. Better get a drink than? Okay! Pictures! Thanks for coming!"



Moral of the story:
I should never, ever rely on my wit and the luck of the gods ever again.