It’s My Boy Party and I’ll Enjoy Who I Want To

Hot Army Guy Pose Images
[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his entry is a continuation of the previous post entitled Boy Party Snack Bowl: Picking Through The Mix in which I dabbled in sexting, freedom and picking my way through to the good bits (cheezies) in the party mix that is “the boys in my life”.

So true to the general way that time works, Wednesday arrives. It is THE busiest day. Intelligence Officer texts throughout the day. Things are good.

I partly don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.  eeeek! (girl shreak).   I’m shocked at how in favor of this whole hot-sex-no-strings-attached-booty-call-awesomeness everybody seems to be. All friends seem decidedly on board. Maybe it’s because I’m older. Maybe it’s because they saw the heartbreak of Mega Love and just want me to have some fun. Maybe it’s because they have faith I’m still skilled at being the Tin Man (reference the picture for those of you who haven’t gotten the impression thus far).  My friends have been resoundingly positive and reassuring that this is definitely an All Systems Go situation.  Here’s a little sampling of their brilliance.

TheHel:  Words of Encouragement 101 (Reasons I need to do this)

1. “WE need this!” (TheHel has also been known to say, when asked if I should call a fella, “no…WE are playing hard to get).
2. He can be Googled. Okay Okay I know I know…but I googled him. And here’s the kicker. The spelling of his name is a little different than normal and when you type in his first name…google actually suggests his last name. There are links to articles about him in the Vancouver Sun (Vancouver’s biggest paper for ya’ll that don’t know).  TheHel feels that makes him celebworthy and in her words, “one day [I’ll] be able to be like…so this one time…yada yada yada…go ahead and google him.” and you’ll be able to. With ease lol. I heart her logic.

My Reasons of Discouragement aka Nervousness aka WTF Am I Doing?

1. I haven’t had sex since the closure sex with Mega Love in January and then not since 3 months before that when we first broke up.
2. I haven’t had sex with someone (new) in over 6 years.
3. I haven’t had sex with someone new (sober) in over 8 years.
4. I haven’t had sex with someone (white) while sober since my first time over a decade ago. For reference, I myself am white and this isn’t really a race thing. I mean it is. But it’s more like a judgement thing. I could get naked in front of a black guy right now no prob. But I feel like with a white guy it’s different, like they’re judging me more harshly. Every jiggle is more jiggly. Every bulge is more bulgy. Every insecurity is more insecure.  I am well aware this could be (is?)completely off base, but it’s an explanation of how I feel not how they (boys in general) think.

I call TheHel. She assures me that this is going to be awesome. I tell her my bodily insecurities. She assures me that not only does EVERY girl have these same issues but that I’m all kinds of fabulous and have absolutely nothing to worry about. She asks if she should send texts or call so that I seem uber popular during my date. She usually does this for my first dates. We find it hilarious.  We find it awesome.  Don’t judge us. I say no though, because she’ll be in bed (mommy schedule style) by the time I’m really on the date. She promises to send texts of encouragement beforehand though.

Wednesday night I play ball. He calls while I’m at my car taking off my cleats. I like the checking in. Things are a go. I go to my cousin’s place downtown to shower, change and beautify. We girl chat and she encourages as I’m really nervous. Mostly about the having of the sex. The actual “meeting” for a date nervousness is virtually all gone (hooray! Look at me all confident to meet people now).

That being said.  There is no liquid courage in my future.  So I need verbal reinforcement.  I text TheHell.  Tell me this is going to be good.  Tell me sex is just like riding a bike.

She texts back.  It’s only like riding a bike if you like to lick the wheels!  You will be fab in so many ways.

Good friends eh?  Awesome!  I Heart You

Final Push.  Go get em…I need this remember!  Lol.  Luv you too.

He picks a lounge place for us to meet. I get there first and get us a table. In the back. I order a diet coke. We don’t have diet coke. WTF? who doesn’t have diet coke? I order a cran and soda. He arrives. He’s been at the “army bar” with his cronies.

Sidebar:  The army bar is not as awesome as it sounds (mostly because it’s not easy access…to me).  It’s not like a bar off campus post where army guys tend to hang out (it’s no hump bar – Army Wives Reference).  It’s more like army guys pouring they’re own really cheap beer with their unit afterwork aka you have to be invited.  Damn!  But I digress…

He gets a beer. I’m sitting down when he arrives. He slides in beside me (very suave.) He looks good. The height appears no biggie so far but then again I’m sitting. He smells delicious. He’s cuter than his pictures. And the pièce de résistance.

He’s wearing the double shirt.  I fucking love the double shirt.

Now for those that don’t know me. Or the double shirt. Allow me to explain. It’s quite simple. The double shirt is a long sleeve shirt with a short sleeve shirt over top. I don’t know the logic. There’s no clear reason. But the double shirt to me, is I imagine what huge boobs are to men. Hot!

So he slides up close but not before noting my jeans.  My magic jeans.  Not unlike my magic hippie dress.  The dress I wear on all my first dates (and to important parties) as it makes my boobs look huge, my butt look round, and my tummy look tiny.  Magic dress.  My magic jeans are similar in that they make my legs look lovely, my butt look yummy and frankly has this design detail (not as 90s as it sounds) that catches boys’ eyes like glitter in the wind.  My thighs sparkle in his eyes.  Things are looking good.  He is clearly pleased.  We joked a lot in the sexy-talk-texts about how long he’d be able to control himself around me when in public.  I went to unzip my hoodie-type-sweater and relax when his eyes bulged and I swear I saw a bit of drool.  He reached over and did up my hoodie stuttering something about not being able to control himself if I wasn’t done up like a mummy.

We laughed.  We chatted.  It was cute and nervous.  Awkward in the very best way possible.  I find out the ex in Squamish is more like a friend that he had slept with.  Also, she’s usually only up there on weekends and often only every other weekend.  Noted.  We laugh more.  His sense of humor is like mine.  He looks nice in his two shirts.  He asks about why I don’t drink.  About time I’d say but there ya go.  I tell him.  He jokes that if he didn’t know I wasn’t drinking he’d think I was drunk (in a good cute bubbly way).  I laugh.  I thought the same thing earlier when I was getting ready.  I tell him there’s a reason my friends call me Fun SSD.  He concurs.  The moment is taut.  We kiss.  It’s good.  Much better than Garbage Man.

I have to say a lot of my concern also involved the “what if” that would follow all of our previous hot talk.  As in, what if I feel nothing.  In my lady parts.  For him.  This becomes a ridiculous notion.  We shut the place down.  He paid and we left.  We drive to his place in Kits (the one he’s moving out of).  I’m nervous that it’s not going to be up to par.  He once joked that he had a small bed.  I thought it was a joke.

So he turns into this driveway.  The only space in an otherwise completely surrounding fence.  I swear I see the word “Defence” on a sign.  Weird.  Moving on.  We park.  I look at the building.  Looks.  Well.  Different than a regular apartment building.  He takes my hand and we go inside.  There’s vending machines at the stairwell.  We walk up the stairs.  Straight ahead.  Is.  What looks like.  A college dorm lounge.  *Turns head to right to ponder*  And that’s when I see it.  A long hallway.  Lined with doors.  Much like.  Wait for it.  Wait for it.  A college dorm.  But it’s not a college dorm.  Wait for it.  Wait for it.  The boots.  The boots.  So so many boots.  Lined up outside each door.  Like little soldiers all in a row.

I’m sure you could see the actual gears turning in my head.  I.  Am.  In.  An.  Army.  Barracks.  True Story.  We go into his room.  He was not joking about the bed.  It’s the rebirth of my uni dorm bed.  I obviously give him some good-natured ribbing.  I think he was mildly embarassed but the funny thing is, I really thought it was awesome.  Like fucking brilliantly amazing awesome.  Hilarious and story-worthy.  Like sexy and manly.  Like army and college rolled into one.  Have I ever mentioned that some of my favorite memories of Uni involve the dorms?


[25% College Dorm] [75% Army Barracks] [100% Awesome]

Now folks.  Here is where we part ways.  While I’m going to take a moment to remember the awesomeness that was the rest of the evening/morning, I will be leaving you to your hot-sexy-liberal imaginations.  Though I will say this.  Turns out I had no need to worry.  After much sampling, my review came in…I’ve been awarded the Lance Armstrong Seal of Approval (revisit bike riding metaphor for reference).  Awesome.

We left things good.  I didn’t stay to cuddle.  He walked me to my car.  Grabbed my hand.  Kissed me goodnight.  I drove off in a blaze of glory.  Okay well maybe not literally but metaphorically.  Will we have fun again?  Who knows.  Do I want to?  Sure! I had a really good time.  It’s a bit of a logistical locale nightmare.  We’ll see.  But that’s not really the point.

The point is that things are awesome!  I accomplished what I wanted to.  I came out of it and am no crazier (read:  first sex after ex has potential for being traumatic).  I had a good time.  I’ve lost all nerves about going on first dates.  I still have the butterflies which have happy connotations but I’ve lost the nerves that the TEDisaster really brought out in me.

So maybe I’ll spend the summer Enjoying the Intelligence Officer in between my other dating adventures.  Maybe he’ll just be an awesome memory and some saucy reading material (uh…yeah…of course I’m keeping the texts…they were hot!).  Either way.  I’ve changed.  I’ve progressed.  And that my friends, is what’s really amazing.


Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

Boy Party Snack Bowl: Picking Through The Mix


[dropcap]S[/dropcap]o one week ago today I had four boys in the mix.  It blows my mind a bit how much things can change in a week.  In a good way.  Mostly because that means that there’s a chance I’ve learned something from the whole Garbage Man debacle which is this:

Don’t slow down for the lollygaggers.  Hey self?  Need me to repeat that?  Do Not Slow Down For The Lollygaggers.  Write that down.  Pocket it.  Carry it with your amazing ass all day long.  No need to settle (for something that brings no enjoyment).

But things have changed.  Dating things.  Life things.  Additions to the “Somethings”.  Things are looking up.  Okay well technically things have been UP for awhile but I thought that sounded cute and fit with the theme.

I digress.  ROLLCALL!!! (note military theme…hint hint…just sayin’).

(Note:  Most of these guys don’t show up again so there’s no tag or category to find their story except for in this post)

Slow (and Steady?).  DONE. His messages had a decidedly just answering never asking feel and so I just stopped replying.

The Divorcée.   DONE. After the phonecall fiasco he messaged this. oh and 2 days later no less. Hello SSD, I took an unexpected phone call and it has taken me up to now to get everything sorted. I greatly apologize for the inconvenience. So please don’t take what happened the other day the wrong way. Um…wow…super issues…super lame…super retarded…super not interested. *hangs up phone goes outside and plays in the summer sunshine.

Normal Guy.  PROGRESSING.  He`s got the digits.  Let`s see if he`ll step the game up and make plans.

Intelligence Officer.  ENJOYED.  Alas I have saved the best for last.  And before all you romantics out there get your hearts in a tizzy on my behalf.  It’s not that kind of best.  Things have happened in the last week that have changed me.  That have changed the game of dating (for me).  Vital.  Important.  Progressive.  “Things” have happened.  And it`s fucking awesome!  But let`s back this story up just a smidge so you can be along with me for the rollercoaster of awesomeness that was this experience.  So last thursday it was just everyday-type chatter with Intelligence Officer.  Until.  Night.  So there I was frantically casually icing a cake for a dear friend`s birthday when I get a text.

What are you doing?
Icing a cake for a friend’s birthday party tomorrow night?

(funny sidebar: At the time I think he’s asking where the party is…as in he might be in town and thus…well…something…but turns out he’s asking where I’m at right now because he’s in town right now)
Oh, lol well how would I know?
I just figured you’d hear me breathing. (and the point goes to…witty repartee)

We banter casually for awhile. And then. Things take a turn. Now, here’s the thing of the thing. I don’t do “sexting” (fuck I even just hate saying the word.) I don’t do phone sex. I don’t do skype whatever. The reason isn’t anything profound (like I once read on so and so’s blog) it’s mostly selfish. I don’t enjoy it. I’ve tried. It was mostly boring. I was doing it for the other person. I cared that they were enjoying it. So I faked it.

But here’s the real thing of the thing. It started because we were clever and sexy with each other. It continued because not only did he say all the things I wanted to hear (read) but it became this thing where I let myself loose. Said what I wanted to and meant it. No timidity. No shyness. Nothing to lose so why not? And 4 hours later. pause. Yeah I’m just going to give you a little time to digest that.

4 hours later. I had just had the MOST exciting, illicit, impressive, titillating and needless to say HOT! faux-sex experience of my entire life. During these 4 hours of hotness there was the occasional break for logistics. As in I won’t date someone who lives 2 hours from me (after Mega Love I swore I’d never do even medium let alone long distance again). We can’t have “fun” at my house. Simple. No explanation will be given. He’s got 5 more days at his place in Kits (area of Vancouver for non-locals). Then he’ll be in Squamish living full-time (though he’ll still be working mostly in Vancouver…what people will do to live somewhere beautiful lol!). Problem. In Squamish he has one guy roomie (no sweat) and one ex as a roommate (deets to come) but at the time I find this insane not to mention detrimental as obviously wouldn’t bode well for…well…fun…noisy fun. What are we to do? He’s certain we’ll figure it out.

The sexy-witty-banter-hot-faux-sex(ting) continues for the next 3 days. It’s so extensive that I have to scan through my ghetto phone that only holds 150 messages in the inbox and selectively delete (obviously keeping the good stuff as it’s like porn lol!). I have to do this numerous times. I would not be shocked if the grand total of texting totalled 400 messages each within a 6 day period. We make plans to hang out wednesday. He’ll be in town for work till 8. I have a ball game but we might be able to hang out afterwards.

Then on Monday it happens. Screech! I slam the brakes. I have at no point conveyed (to him) that it would be a possibility for us to date. I haven’t expressed any desire for anything committed, long-term or even relationship-esque. And yet. True to boy form. He spouts some bullshit he barely notices yet flips me off.

Randomly during a text conversation he decides to mention that he’s not looking for anything long-term or committed. WTF? Um…I didn’t know that booty calls could even BE long-term or committed. I say. He clearly misses my rage. I’m only here for sex he says don’t get too attached. Seriously? Dude! You’re ruining it!

I spend the rest of the day royally pissed that someone could fuck up such a silver platter situation. I mean fuck!!! I ponder if there’s anyway that he can come back from this. I decide there isn’t. I was wrong.

Tuesday comes and I manage to casually convey I’m pissed and well…He’s completely stumped and confused. Appears to not have a fucking clue of what’s changed. So he calls. I don’t answer. He texts. I can’t apologize if I don’t know what I did wrong. True. I call back. We talk. Things get sorted. Not worth going into it but though he is true to form a guy…he makes up for his faux pas and things continue their trajectory. I like his voice. He texts. You’re voice is soooo sexy (dirty talk dirty talk). I swoon (lustily not emotionally). I’m incredibly self-concious of my voice. I’ve always felt it was very deep. Apparently it’s hot. Yay me. Looks like we’re still on for Wednesday.

to be continued…


Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

Boy Party Snack Bowl: Who’s In The (Chex) Mix?



Intelligence Officer

The Stats
5’9  —  31  —  good user name

The Story
We messaged.  We texted.  There were outloud giggles.  We were planning to go out when he was set free from lockdown-at-Whistler-during-Olympics-for-work-as-intelligence-officer-aka-military.  Long story short.  He gets back to Van only to make the move to Squamish aka too big of a commute to date.  He’s a fitness buff.  Squamish is all mountains and outdoorsy.  He’ll be so happy.  We say our “too bads” and “adioses” via text.  I expect this is done.

He reappeared when I rejoined POF for the summer.  He messages something cute and that he’s still wondering if we should have gotten together over some wine.  I say I don’t drink wine but obviously yes.  He asks me out.  I’m busy I say, Maybe another time?  He’s not out this way all that much he says.  I make some jokes.  Now I know you’re just being honest about “not being in the area much” and girls (well at least this girl) do/does love the honesty…but you know what I really want to hear is that…”you’d gladly make the trip into vancouver to meet up sometime and see if the sexy witty repartee is all that its cracked up to be so far”…but I’m just sayin’ 😛  He says he most definitely would make the drive to see me and asks about schedules etc.

The Pros
We had what I believe (as I’m no longer committing to my not-in-person perception of banter) was excellent witty repartee.  He was funny, he was witty, he was sarcastic…did I mention you could throw a quarter at his body and it would bounce off it and hit you in the eye?  Plus military…hello manly!  He texted me this morning for some cute repartee.

The Cons
Red flag on the 5’9.  However, he’s super buff aka hyper masculine so that bodes REALLY well for him.  If he’s telling the truth (and not fudging a few inches…like you know who *cough* Tedski *cough* seriously why do guys not think we’ll notice?) he’ll still be taller than me by two inches.  He lives in Squamish.  But honestly for some good dating and some good loving I’m fine with an occasional killing of the ozone.

The Standing
We texted a couple times this morning and then after I said something it was like…silence…fucking Garbage Man all over again.  No worries.  I didn’t really care so I just carried on with my day.  Got a message later saying “sorry..fell asleep” (his day off guess he was lounging lol!).  I text no worries.  He texts Sorry talk later? I’m just heading out for a run.  So we’ll see what happens…

The Divorcée

The Stats
6’0  —  28  —  don’t get his user name (could be spelling error? could be something I’ve never heard of? who knows)

The Story
Plenty of fish.  Nothing much else to tell.  Nice guy.  No real chuckles.  Seems cool enough except.

The Pros
He’s tall.  His pics look really good though they’re all face shots with a webcam so it seems a bit of a crapshoot.  He knows what he wants out of life and has a plan to get it.

The Cons
He seems a bit trodden down and by that I mean.  He’s clearly got baggage from having gotten married too young and having it not work out, but that’s to be expected I guess.

The Standing
Everything was going great.  Then he messaged on POF that we should chat on the phone.  I’m busy last night so I say call today.  It gets a bit weird.  He asked what time.  I couldn’t really say, anytime I guess.  I said if he wanted a long call to call my cell and I would call back from my restricted home number but if he just wanted a quick chat my cell would be fine.  My tweet from earlier sums up what happened.

Guy…call me @ said time…Girl…ok.
Girl calls @ said time…line busy…This moment
brought to you by Are You Fucking Retarded Inc.™

Normal Guy

The Stats
6’1  —  30  —  perfectly normal user name

The Story
I message him (balls of steel I know eh?).  He responds Hey your “Magical skills” definitely snagged my interest along with those sexy curves 😉.  Witty repartee.  Witty repartee.  We’ve only had a few messages so I can’t really say.  But I have a good feeling *crossies*

The Pros
Did I mention how normal he seems?  He’s tall, dark and handsome. *Yum.  Dresses in styles that I like, manly (plays hockey) yet cute (babysits sister’s kids), interesting career (legal), it’s all very good times.  Asks good questions (not always waiting for me to ask first).  Lives within a reasonable proximity.

The Cons
None so far.

The Standing
Just seeing what unfolds.  We haven’t had that many messages yet.

Slow (and Steady?)

The Stats
6’2  —  26  —  cheesy user name

The Story
He messaged me.  SMOKIN’ Hot body.  The first black guy since Mega Love ended that I’ve even been remotely attracted to.  (case in point for how easily my attraction to someone is controlled by my mind).  We started talking just before the vegas trip and then final final.

The Pros
He has an MBA (for those keeping score this might actually be THE FIRST person I’ve even talked to on POF with some higher education…hooray!).  Though he did attempt to explain what an MBA was to me (as if there are people who don’t know…yikes!).  He’s got a great smile, he seems fairly intelligent, and just a nice guy.  No hearty chuckles though.

The Cons
No hearty chuckles.  He’s a bit of a slow mover.  We’ve been talking for over 2 weeks now and I still think were not headed straight for a date asap.  Not a huge fan of slow and steady wins the race.  Gimme Gimme Gimme.  Also, I often ask about people’s past experiences on POF.  I want “ballparks” not “specifics”.  I just want to know that I’m not your first first date and blah blah blah.  He however, mentioned that he met and dated a girl from POF.  “Courtney” and him would still be together if she hadn’t moved to Toronto and he doesn’t do long distance.  Weird eh?  Not only do I not want to know that “location” was all that broke them up but do I really need her name…ick…but we’ll see lol!

The Standing
He’s pretty fucking hot…so I’m going to let Courtney slide and see what comes of it.  When I say buff I mean the dude is buff.  Plus if it turns out the MBA is not bullshit (who knows these dating days) then frankly I’d love a conversation that involved being able to talk about experiences of higher education.

PS…of the people who didn’t make the cut into this week’s recipe for party mix…I’d like to draw special attention to the 18 year old who has messaged me…wait for it…wait for it…Twice!  and to be clear this is creepy on so many levels but most of all
– he’s not even legal to drink…in Canada!!!
– he could potentially still be in highschool (vomits a bit)
– gross!
– his parents can thank my moral compass for their sons purity lol


Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time