Why am I still surprised?

You know, if I did more thinking with my penis I'd probably be less worried about being happy. And that ladies and gentleman, is why we don't talk much anymore. But everyone seems to be interested in my failures in dating so here we go.

Went of a Plenty of Fish date recently. Went to a slightly new-ish crepe place downtown. The real food crepes are not that good, the dessert food crepes are probably what the word wonderful tastes like.

My date is a master's student at the U of G and working in a lab full time on campus, she also lives by herself and has a tendency to babble. None of which is a deal breaker. However her "chaperone" (her word, not mine) was a tad over the top. She brought a stuffed Teddy Bear along to make sure I was acting like a gentleman. At first, man I thought it was cute and quirky and awesome. But as lunch progressed she kinda kept trying to include the damn thing in conversation.

Now when I'm home alone I talk to myself all the damn time. I carry on conversations with myself, especially when I have a lot on my mind (like recently), But I am not one for carrying on conversations with inanimate objects, it's mostly a conversation with myself.

So I didn't really mind at first. I thought she was kinda just kidding around or being playful, maybe a tool to help get over some social anxiety. Cool, good for her online dating and getting out of the house. Then she started expecting me to answer questions the bear was asking.

Questions I did not hear.

Ever had a date get offended because you didn't include her slightly imaginary friend in a conversation about music? It was a first for me. Also, she was into the White Stripes and Billy Talent. Yuck.

So yeah. Needless to say, the chaperone didn't approve of me. Stupid bear.

Too bad. She was pretty cute.

That's me. I was listening to the Ninja Turtles theme and watching "The Watchman" while I put this together. I don’t know if that changes anything, but it happened.

Well, the places we're still allowed to go.

Just call me Pops

So in a weird turn of either coincidence or because of the bandannas I started wearing at work to keep the sweat from pouring down my face all day I have been asked by pretty much everybody I work with if I'm married or have kids. For the record I have neither.

And seriously, this guy? With kids and a wife?

If you look hard you can see the camera. If you look harder you can see my friends asking me if I'm worried about picking up herpes from the bus shelter.

Quack! This pose really shows off the creepy hair necklace I finally got rid of just recently. I need to clean my bulletin board more often.

Apparently it's tradition to steal cutlery from somebody on their birthday. Not that that was going to stop me. I like cake.

 Although according to my junk mail folder there are tons of singles in my area waiting to hook-up, and hot sexy Russian babes who want a Canadian husband. I'm not quite convinced.

However I apparently look like a family man. Was that a fat joke? Also I should apparently have a house and a mortgage and a car and pets cause that's what people with full time jobs have. I also go out on the weekends but dancing in a club is also apparently weird for people my age. I didn't think 26 was too old to get smashed with your friends and scream your heart out to songs you can't even recognize when you're sober.

Well fuck that shit. I look how I look and I have no wife or kids, I don't have a mortgage or a car and I like to get trashed with my friends at bars and check out hot girls who are out my league as well as walk up to band members who just killed a live set and try to buy them a drink. I'm pretty damn okay with that.

I try to live life how it makes sense for me, and you know what? I'm still a mature responsible adult most of the time. I'm excited about buying furniture for the apartment I'm planning on having in the fall. There's a lady at the bank who I talk to about investments and taxes and fiscal planning and other made-up words.

Although let's be honest here, there were plans for a Star Wars nook. Now the idea has been expanded since I saw some cool lord of the rings mugs and awesome Wolverine book ends. Currently I'm trying to "fiscally plan" that shit to match the living room set I have my eye on at Leon's.

As for the wife/relationship bit, well if it happens then it happens. A few weeks ago I saw this awesome list of cool ideas for a date. I'm actually doing the Plenty of Fish thing again in an attempt to actually try some of them.

And kids? Well I'd have to expand the nook. But they can't play with the toys. The toys are mine.

That's me. Sorry ladies, if you want to know the date ideas you have to ask me out. Fresh underpants, a first aid kit and the ability to have an open mind while creating what might be an great Batman story later on are also good ideas.

Spammy

I don't know but that's okay

The other day I got a surprise visit from Meg (I know like 6 girls named Meg, but she knows who she is) and she said something that made me incredibly homesick, but it was still an awesome moment.

I get a visit from the all-round-not-as-awesome-but-still-pretty-cool-even-if-he-can't-hold-his-liquor-and-tells-embarrassing-stories-about-me half of the lamest people who think they're funnier than they really are this side of real life! We really do think we're actually funny sometimes, which only really affects the people around us being confused a lot. Even if the douchecanoe (new favorite word!) called me at 1am, he is still allowed one of the empty rooms in the house... as long as he brings books. And my goddamn chess set.

Cause that's probably what we're going to spend a lot of our time doing. Playing chess on the front porch with booze and bitching about our lives, talking about geeky brother stuff and complaining about women. I can't fucking wait.

Actually, mentioning dating, last night someone asked me if I was happy being single. Which is a slightly complicated question. I rattled off some smart-ass remark (no surprises there) and kept washing dishes, but the question has been kinda bouncing around in my skull since then. Actually the first thing I thought of was something Jay posted on his wall a few days ago. Kinda makes the single life look good.

Sounds pretty sweet eh? But I've been single for a while now and maybe I'd like something slightly more serious going on, I'm not actually sure at the moment as I keep changing my mind which probably isn't helping. I confused the shit out a girl just this week actually. Now when I say "single" I don't mean "alone" I just mean not in a "relationship". "Quotation marks". I'm not a sexless hermit hiding out in a basement playing WoW and watching Starcraft 2 commentaries on my days off (okay sometimes the starcraft2 but damn that day9 is an amusing fellow).

It probably doesn't help that I'm a horny 20 something combined with a romantic idealistic fool.

Let's fuck!

But I have this poem...

After?

Yeah I'm cool with that.

I don't really know want I want at the moment and I'm alright with that, as that's nothing new. Actually I've kinda been stuck in a transitory period (read:broke-ish) for a while now. I'm just plugging away at life getting the most I can out of what I've got. And if that includes a girl, then so be it. If it doesn't, well I guess that's fine too. I'm not too worried about dying alone at 25 (soon 26!).

Of course if I become a confirmed bachelor I should probably start playing video games again. I haven't turned on my Xbox in 2 weeks.

That's me. I have the day off, so I'm going to sit on the front porch with a cigar, a beer and a book. Jealous? It's okay. You should be.

SpAmmy

Prom!

I just discovered a website called good, clean humour. Now, somebody tell me please, what is the fucking point of that?

So it's nearing the end of May, and you all know what that means... Prom season! And since I practice the menial tasks I'll most likely be saddled with for life at places where there are a number of high schoolers, I've been hearing a lot about it.

So today I'd like to tell MY prom story. I am bound to get some stuff wrong, and there might be some stuff I have forgotten, but it's actually a night I think I remember pretty well.

So there was this girl and her name was Mel. She was "friends" (no idea why they ever spent time together) with the girl my twin was dating at the time (hope she remembers/reads this). And so Mel and I started dating. It was pretty much a way to spend more time with my brother and his friends since I pretty much never saw him at the time, and dating Mel was actually a good excuse to hang out with him. Plus, boobs. Oh and I may have thought I was madly in love. As it turns out, not so much. (actually, I have been lucky enough to know what that feels like so I can honestly tell the difference)

Now Mel (and my brother and his friends, etc) went to a different high school than I did, and I really wanted nothing to do with my own school at this point, so I couldn't care less about my own school's damn Prom. But Mel's? Well it was a big deal to her, and so it was a big deal to me. I'm a slight romantic idealist at heart and thought nothing would be better than being all dressed up and on a dance floor with the girl I thought I was in love with as a slow ballad played.

Now the second you start making grand expectations about an event is when real life kicks in. The controversy, the drama, the awesome angry sex because your girlfriend is mad at everybody except for you (ish). The biggest thing was the seating arrangements. I shit you not, who sat where caused literally weeks of never ending tears and bitter backhanded comments about friendship. I couldn't have cared less.

My plans consisted of the following:

1) Wear a suit.

2) Fight the urge to make a rude or silly gesture during pictures.

3) Hang out with Jay and Lysee and Mel and take pleasure and amusement at the comments they made about people they didn't like.

4) Dance a little. Dance floor makeouts.

5) Stare at my date's boobs all night (mission accomplished, she looked great in that dress)

6) Get trashed and see what drunken sex was like

As you can see I'm not a real complicated dude.

So the evening came and I have one piece of advice. For fuck's sake get a goddamn corsage for your date. Trust me, she told me not to bother because they were overpriced, but just roses was not enough. I heard about it all fucking night. Even when you get 13 instead of a dozen so you can present one to her mom. Especially when her mom suddenly hates you for stealing her baby's virginity (I didn't).

However, the seating arrangement thing was pretty much all Mel wanted to talk about. We ended up at a table with another couple (or 2 maybe?) who she didn't really get along with (everyone was perfectly nice to me) and I had to endure complaining and her making me get up and "wandering" by the table she really wanted to be at. She did keep her arms crossed a whole lot, and that was nice (see #5).

Now Mel was a bit of a drama queen, and with all the Prom kafuffle she had been in fine form for weeks. I actually learned how to nod and agree without actually thinking or even paying attention. It is a skill that has served me in good stead ever since.

But during the dinner when all the class awards were given out and speeches were happening Mel won an award! It was the "most likely to be seen on Jerry Springer award". Everybody laughed and cheered! Yay!

She tried to play it off as no big deal, but damn she was more upset than I had ever seen her. I felt bad and tried to made her feel better, but on the dance floor for the rest of the night she was borderline in tears. I did what I could but she got incredibly bitter. I did my best, even requesting "our song" (don't actually remember what the song was) and going for a big romantic kiss (read: make out session) at the end, but she wasn't having any of it.

I wasn't too worried though. So far my plan was going well. You'd think my date being miserable and pissed would have been a deal breaker, but oddly enough not so much. Not a good sign for the relationship, but I didn't realize that at the time (actually we broke up a few weeks later).

So previously we decided we'd have our Prom after party in our backyard, so Jay and I went and got a whole bunch of Tiki torches and huge outdoor candles and begged/borrowed/stole as many lawn chairs as we could get our hands on. We invited everybody we knew and had a rather good turnout. I had just started working at Metro and was making some great friends and a whole bunch of people showed up. Mostly young women.

So Jay and I were setting up the backyard while our dates were changing, and people started showing up. My friend Liv (hope she reads/remembers this) came and, silly her, forgot to bring plastic cups to mix her drinks with. (actually if you plan a party you should always get some, and ever since I've always remembered to pick some up, life lesson learned there folks). So her and I walked to the convenience store and picked some up, taking the opportunity to have a little chat about how Prom went, since I kinda wanted to complain for a bit.

Well Mel had always been insecure about my friends. Mostly because most of them were young women around my age and, in her words, "too pretty for her to be comfortable with". (in fact, most of my friends are still women and not a single girl I have ever dated has been comfortable with that). So Mel was pissed. She kinda hung out and got all jealous and sat in my lap and did her best to keep her tongue in my mouth all night. I, however, didn't want to bail on all the people I had invited to my backyard, not to mention I was having a good time. So Mel went to bed early and I stayed till the bitter end and had a great time getting wasted with my friends.

I never got to experience drunken sex until years later. Didn't miss out on much.

The funny thing is, despite my date, I remember the night fondly. It was quite the experience, if not the dream fueling romantic fantasy that everyone expects (I find big stereotypical events and expectations rarely are) and I had a good time, if just for the experience. I wondered for weeks afterwards if there was anything I could have done to make the night better (probably), but now it doesn't matter. It was what it was and if I could do it again I doubt I'd do anything different.

That's me. I still have the prom picture somewhere, and Mel looks happy and beautiful. Too bad I know better.

SpAmmy