I’m writing this after the most romantic weekend I’ve had perhaps ever. My lovely boyfriend whisked me away to Canmore, being equipped with all my favourite snacks. Which that in and of itself is enough cause to make me love you. And, I do love him, but I’m not positive I’m in love with him… at least not quite yet. I think I’m so conditioned to be scared of love from some past traumas, that now I really close myself off to it, as to not get hurt. It’s almost as if I’m incapable of being in love because I feel like I should be at this point, but I’m just not quite there! This scares me, as I’m concerned is this a me problem, or a partner problem, of him, perhaps not being the right fit. At this point, all I know is that only time will tell and that I am currently happy. All we can ask for and seek in this life is happiness. So if I’m happy, and he’s happy, that’s all I am trying to concern myself with.
….On the other side, or is it where you water it? That is the age old question! I’ve found myself wrestling with this idea ironically on the day of green, St. Patricks Day. I had one too many shots of Jameson’s and got my Irish eyes smiling, perhaps a little too much. With my new boyfriend on my arm, I was having a lot of fun with him. However, we weren’t glued to each other the whole day, and I had some other male attention. Male attention from some dudes who, a couple months ago, I would be very keen to flirt away with. It was an ultimate test in how invested I am in my new boyfriend. Who, full disclosure, I’ve recently had a couple little bumps in the road with, that made me contemplate the longevity of how long we are going to be lasting here. It’s so easy to meet a charming gentleman, who fits your ideal and want that new exciting romance again, and you just get swept off your feet a little bit. Meanwhile, I’ve been cultivating a wonderful relationship with my current man. It slaps you in the face quite quickly of being confronted with how satisfied you are with your current relationship. Not saying I’m going to go cheat on him or dump the guy right then and there, I’m not like that AT ALL, but it gets you thinking, am I missing out on something potentially better? Is there perhaps a better match for me? You start taking inventory of your needs. Is my boyfriend good for me? Does he enhance my life? Will this work long-term? Do my friends like him? Can I live with him? All these whirlwind questions start nagging at you, eating away at your brain slowly. Then as you start answering them, some clarity appears. You start answering with yes, my friends do love him, I could see myself living with him, he does enhance my life. Which is where I make a conscious decision not to run from love. I want to embrace my man for all he is. In the areas where he perhaps is a little lacking, I need to ‘water’ the grass, and work for our relationship. Make it the perfect fit. Relationships take work and don’t come easy. Everyone at this age has some baggage, and you just have to learn how to take a vacation with it. New love is scary. God knows I’m a little terrified of it yet. I’m not sure I am in love yet, but I certainly can say I am falling. I’m going to give it every ounce of myself I can muster to make it succeed as well because if anything is worth your hard work, it is your happiness and searching for great love. So instead of comparing, I am tending my own garden, making it flourish in any way I know how, and I encourage everyone else to make the most of what they have, and be grateful for having it!
If you’re having dick problems I feel bad for you son, I got 99 problems, but a little dick ain’t one. HIT ME.
For your listening pleasure on this lovely day ❤
ps: sorry I know I’ve been slacking on writing lately, promise I will write more regularly soon! xx
Let me tell you all a story, of many moons ago, when I went on a date with a fellow, with a dick as small as his big toe.
So, it started out great. We went for drinks at this cute bar, & really hit it off. We were flirting our pants off one another, and I drank enough wine for three. We had a lovely first date and I was eager to go on another! Fast forward to date number two. We get some ice-cream and head back to his place. A little fast-paced for my norm, but I was really vibing with him, and this was back when I was fresh-off-the-boat single for the first time, and really didn’t know the norms, nor did I care about them for dating. AKA: I wanted to bump uglies with this hot dude! So we get into his impressive apartment and start making out right away. Clothes flew off quickly, and as I’m making out with him, my hand travels to his… well penis. It feels rather minuscule, but hey, some guys are growers, not showers, and I figure our steamy make-out session must not be getting him hard yet. So I start giving him a half-assed handjob, although honestly, it wasn’t the type of handjob to make him cum, it was just like some foreplay sort of touching, not like I’m vigorously rubbing one out for him. Didn’t seem to matter though, because next thing I know, somehow I am covered in cum! He projectile came with zero warning! We were like facing each other on the couch, and because of this position, the cum decorated me like a Jackson Pollock painting, across my stomach, getting everywhere! So buddy, JUMPS up, and runs to the bathroom yelling “DON’T LET IT GET ON THE SOFA” and throws me a towel, so I can wipe myself up. Then he’s like, ‘I gotta take a shower’ so I’m just sort of like…. okay, I guess I’ll just sit here with a gross cum towel and wait for you to rinse off. Meanwhile, my heads spinning! I’m like, ‘he wasn’t even hard!’ ‘was he hard?’ ‘his dick is literally a micro-penis?’ ‘what just happened?’ ‘do I go join him in the shower?’ ‘do I leave?’ ‘do I get dressed?’ among a million other thoughts. As I had never really had anything like this occur, and this was one of my first dates after dating the same boy for six years. I opted to just sit and wait for him. When he finally came out of the shower. He was SO incredibly awkward. He couldn’t even look me in the eye. Then I was still naked and immediately regretted that because he had gone the extra mile to get dressed. He wouldn’t even speak to me, besides muttering some rather incoherent words. We settled on watching some television, while I awkwardly re-dressed myself. After he was acting like some weird, embarrassed zombie, and wouldn’t even much acknowledge my presence. I quickly gave him a very awkward hug and said I had better be on my way. He offered zero arguments otherwise, and I left having one of the strangest times on a date. He was sort of an asshole about the whole thing. I was actually astonished when he texted me later in the week, wanting to meet up again, but being rather rude in general. So because of his rudeness, I don’t feel bad dubbing him Small Paul a man, who had a literal micropenis and is the smallest I’ve ever seen much less held in person. (Like it was literally completely covered & then some with one of my fists on it.)
Do you ever feel like you’re living your life as a movie script? Every next move, not quite because of your intentions, but because it was predisposed to occur already set into motion by some higher power? If you do, you’ll know how I am feeling about seventy-five percent of the time. This past weekend was no exception. My friend, we will call her Zet, was having a party for her brand new single dropping, and she was having it in a Castle! So I invited my new squeeze, we shall call him, Vade, and eagerly anticipate the evening. Granted, I already know that three former crushes have all RSVPed ‘attending’ on the facebook group. So I already knew I was in for quite an interesting evening. We arrive, and it is quite the venue. It’s like an installation 60’s castle art space on crack, it was actually rather fantastic! Felt very dream-like and otherworldly, like we had been transported back a few decades…. that or taken a lot of drugs. The crowd here was a very odd smorgasbord of people, which just added to the delight! Vade and I arrive and quickly realize we were idiots for not bringing some acholic bevvies, so we do a brisk walk to the nearest liquor store. Bare-legged in January, not really certain of my whereabouts, it felt like the cutest little adventure, hand in hand with my new man, who I had just slept with for the first time ever, mere hours before. Giddy from the new of it all. I opt for a simple tall can Somersby blackberry cider and after no luck finding pre-made ceasers, Vade settles for a case of beer. We skip back to the party, ready to mingle with our new-found juice of confidence. Enter, man number one, who I went on some dates with not too long ago, and low-key think he might be vaguely in love with me. That was nice and awkward, then I think he’s with some new girl, but not super clear if they are on a date or not. Not sure how to interact, and it just ends up being very uncomfortable forced conversation. Then after that, queue man #2 who had made his crush on me quite obvious, who ALSO has some new girl on his arm. Yet another weird conversation happens. Luckily crush #3 never showed up. Talk about a weird smothering of ex-love interests and current all holed up together in the same strange castle, that we have just discovered is actually haunted! After all the subtle drama though, we got to enjoy an evening of a sweet tune, with some amazing people. Then I got to go home and bang my new boy some more. So it turned into pretty great, movie-script Friday! xox
“If you’ve ever taken a late-night stroll through a garden, you may have noticed that certain flowers, much like people, tend to retire after the sun goes down.
But flowers that close up at night, such as tulips, hibiscus, poppies and crocuses, aren’t sleepy. They’re just highly evolved.
Plants that tuck themselves in for bedtime exhibit a natural behavior known as nyctinasty. Scientists know the mechanism behind the phenomenon: In cool air and darkness, the bottom-most petals of certain flowers grow at a faster rate than the upper-most petals, forcing the flowers shut.
But scientists are not quite sure why some plants, particularly flowers, evolved this way. There are several theories, though.
Charles Darwin believed that plants close up at night to reduce their risk of freezing. Another theory suggests that nyctinastic plants are conserving energy — and perhaps their odor — for the daytime, when pollinating insects are most active.
Some scientists believe that this self-serving behavior prevents pollen from becoming wet and heavy with dew. Insects can more easily transfer dry pollen, improving a nyctinastic plant’s likelihood of successful reproduction.
And one fascinating idea holds that nyctinasty is a highly evolved defense mechanism against a plant’s nocturnal predators. By closing up tight, the flowers in your garden create a clearer view of the ground for nighttime hunters, like owls, who kill off flower-munching herbivores out looking for a midnight snack.” –
I feel like I am constantly going into nyctinasty. When the fuck boys come out at night, I close up, and protect myself. Even when the good guys come and want to date me, NOPE, I close up, and close off. My friend re-affirmed to me the other night, that I am a commitment-phobe. Which is really funny to me, because I never would use that word to describe myself in the past, but these days…. it is really true. It is not that I want to be at all either! That’s why it is so ironic. I feel as though I am Ted from How I Met Your Mother for pretty much the majority of that show. I am a desperate romantic looking for love. Yet every time I get close, self-sabotage occurs, or just plain bad luck ensues. I think I’m hung up on old ideas of love and past lovers too, that I’m unwilling to accept small flaws of potential new suitors, which is a toxic way of thinking. Comparison is the thief of joy, as they say. So even though I’m a beautiful flower, who deserves some rest and protection. I want to be an open Lily, and blossom 24/7, not just when the suns out. xox
Happy New Year lovely readers! I’m so eager for twenty-nineteen! Sadly, twenty-eighteen wasn’t really my year. It certainly did me no favours in the relationship department. Granted I can’t complain too much, as I learned a lot. I feel like I’m emotionally equipped, and definitely physically ready for a real, solid relationship this year. In fact, I’m running towards romance, ready to fall head over feet (thanks Alannis….banger of a tune). I refuse to be accepting of any bullshit treatment. The second you’re rude to me and start to play mind games, I’m over it, that was 2018’s learning curve. Idiots will not be tolerated this year… no matter how cute they are, or how good the sex is.
Embracing love, and wanting it more than anything is dangerous though. It can leave you feeling so alone when you aren’t receiving it. So I am not going to be desperate, and I am actually extremely content, doing my own thing, and being on my own. That’s always when love fosters the most anyways. If you can’t love yourself, why would someone else love you? So although I am not much one for ‘resolutions’ I am making some promises to hold myself to. Pinky, promises (those are unbreakable!). I vow that I will invest in my health and well-being. I will continue going to the gym, and living an active lifestyle. I will also treat my body with respect and feed it nutrients it needs, not just the late night cookies it craves. I will foster my friendships, and make sure I am a damn good friend, because all of my friends are damn good to me, and deserve the same! I will continue to compliment and be kind to strangers, as the world always is in dire need of more sweethearts. I will also be more aware of my spending habits and try to budget better. I’m a quarter-century, and I feel like it is the perfect time for the stars to align and for my life to get on the track its intended to be on.
Now to not sound like a preachy fuck, let’s talk about how I haven’t been laid in weeks! I am being much more selective of who I sleep with these days (although, I have always been somewhat picky.) Which is horrible, because it means lots of lonely solo nights. However, it is well worth the pay-off of when you finally click with someone the fireworks are just that much more magnified! I am implementing a rule that I will not sleep with someone until I am confident that they are not going to go around and take off the second I do. I think its pretty wise. It’s a little longer than maybe the ‘three dates’ typical rule, but I believe its rather effective. No one has up and left me since this rule… in fact, most of them tend to fall in love with me so I would say its working. Sadly, just wasn’t a two-way feeling. How come its always the ones you are obsessing over, are not that into it, and the ones crazy into you, you just can’t go there with them. I just need the mutual liking to happen! It’s all about timing, and both people having their green lights on. I think mines been yellow for some time. Almost ready to commit, but just not quite there yet. Always waiting. Only time will tell though, but I’m really looking forward to this year, I feel like it’s going to be a good one, I just know it! xox
“If I date you, the goal is to marry you. Build with you. Grow with you. I’m not dating you just to pass time, I see potential in you. I don’t fear commitment. I fear wasting my time.” -anonymous