Dating Mistakes: And THAT’S Why You’re a Dick

Head Desk


[dropcap]S[/dropcap]o Kevin Bacon and I had had 3 dates.  He thought I was into him.  And when I asked him about where we stood…his response was silence.  Not one to accept silence (hey!…I’m a dating blogger…who is no longer interested…obvs I’m going to pry the truth out of you…though one day I hope it would just happen organically).  And so I DMed him on Twitter Should I be taking your silence to mean that not only are you not interested in dating but you’re not interested in friendship either?  His response?  I didn’t have anything to say.  Sorry.  Busy last night and working now.  But pressing the issue, I think you’re not what I’m looking for dating-wise.  I hope we can still be friends.

Now here’s the thing of the thing.  On our first date, Kevin Bacon had asked me why I blogged.  I told him that in the beginning I had started simply because I was tired of telling the same story over and over to my different girlfriends since none of them were really friends with each other.  But I said as it progressed [the blog] became more about sharing my experiences, including what I was learning in the hopes that it might help others.  But not in the misery-loves-company-commiseration-type way but in the learn-about-the-missteps-you-me-they-we’ve-all-been-taking-and-work-to-correct-them-type way.  

So with that being said.  Let’s take a look at Kevin Bacon’s response and examine it for what it’s worth (the exact value of learning lessons and sharing perspectives on dating).


I didn’t have anything to say. Sorry. Busy last night and working now.  


So this.  This right here.  Makes him a Dick.  Claiming you don’t have anything to say when someone asks you a direct question is a cop out.  Now that’s every person’s right to cop out on whatever the fuck they want…because let’s face it…people can do whatever the fuck they want whenever they want.  But.  And this is the key point here.  That rationale doesn’t excuse you from being categorized as a Dick.  Additionally, people who apologize and don’t mean it.  Ugh.  Weaker than weak.  Words are bond, son.  And throwing words you don’t mean into the world gives an air of in-authenticity and well…gross.  Finally, being busy and working is an excuse when someone wants a researched and typed 10 page report on the mating habits of Pandas not when the answer to the question is…I’m not interested in you.

Now I know some of you may be thinking wow, she’s being really harsh and picky with this guy but how are we all supposed to learn if I don’t dissect it.  I’m not saying Kevin Bacon is a horrible person and should cease to experience happiness…on the contrary…I wish him all the best.  We could substitute any name into this situation and my arguments would be the same.  I simply want to illustrate what about this response was so icky and aggravating in the hopes that something can be learned.


But pressing the issue, I think you’re not what I’m looking for dating-wise.  


This is perfect.  It’s a little bit weirdly-worded ‘dating-wise’ and all but nonetheless it’s clear and makes it’s point.  He wasn’t interested in further dating.  Simple.  Precise.  And closure inducing.  Boys, take note.  Good job, KevinBacon.


I hope we can still be friends.  


Aww fuck.  He was so close, that Kevin Bacon.  Sure he fucked it up royally in the beginning with the Dickishness and the in-authenticity but then he brought it back, salvaged it all really, with the cut-and-dry approach to the truth.  And then there’s this.  I hope we can still be friends.  See the thing of the thing is, this would be fine if he meant it.  But he didn’t.

If Kevin Bacon had wanted to be friends he would’ve been more careful with my time.  There wouldn’t have been questions about my calendar of future dating, there wouldn’t have been the week of waiting to find out he wasn’t interested in me, and most importantly there would have been this douchey response that was like pulling teeth just to get.  If a guy wants to remain friends, like actually remain friends, he respects your time, he’s empathetic of your feelings, he…well…ya know…acts like a friend.

And while it’s perfectly fine not to remain friends with someone you dated, it’s not so perfectly fine to be misleading about it.  Because while I’ll admit, I was well aware Kevin Bacon didn’t want to be friends (and the feeling was pretty obviously mutual) there have been other boys….on TV and in movies…in my life…in the lives of my friends…who have acted this exact same in-authentic way.  And if your word is all you really ever have.  What does it say about a person who throws words like they’re feathers when they know damn well they’re stones?  It says you’re a fucking Dick.

So back to the response.  Now I personally would’ve just said nothing.  In future posts I’ll be talking more about why it’s okay to just throw up the deuces and walk off the stage.  But for now I’m going to answer this question for those of you that can’t stand to live with an awkward moment.  For those of you who have to have the last word.  For those of you who can’t end a sentence without a pleasantry.

While Kevin Bacon said I hope we can still be friends what he should’ve said was I hope we can still be friendly.  And yes.  A couple of letters really does make that huge of a difference.  Because while one of these sentences makes a badly formed counterfeit of a good person…the other is clear and honest and allows for closure.  Easy Peasy Light and Breezy.

You’ll Know I’m Over It Because I Act Shamelessly

Dating Mistakes


[dropcap]I[/dropcap] definitely have a “best behavior” when it comes to dating.  And you’ll know that I like you if I remain on that said “best behavior”.  How will you know for certain that I’m not/no longer interested??? (which btw is completely different than not willing to make out with you, but that’s a whole other post entirely I think)…You’ll know because I’m shameless.  It’s the same kind of shamelessness that allows a person to have a booty call.  And it’s that same kind of shamelessness that allows me to ask questions about my dating.  Now that I’ve assumed it’s over.  Whether on my side.  Their side.  Or all sides.

Kevin Bacon and I met through Twitter which, for me, is based on the very concept that I’m a dating/sex blogger and if that doesn’t imply it enough, my blog speaks it in volumes.  I am into dating.  I am into science.  I am into research.  I want to know things.  Think things through.  Discover new things.  Learn from things I’ve discovered.  It’s all pretty cut and dried, no?  So I assumed he would both see it coming and not be bothered by my asking questions.  About our dating.  Or more specifically something I’d been wondering a great deal about for awhile now.


Do I have a Poker Face?


It started the day after the final Unfortunate Event.  That night, even before I’d arrived at the party, Kevin Bacon and other person on Twitter had tweeting something really bizarre (and sexual) and then cc:’ed me on it.  Which I found incredibly bizarre.  So that next day, I tweeted back about it.  Honestly, I’d assumed it was because he was talking about me (not to be confused with, saying good things about me or anything of that kind which is not the same thing).

He responded via DM with Because you heard me say it.  But the thing is that wasn’t true.  I wasn’t even there when they’d tweeted it so unless I’d developed a new-found time travelling superpower.  That wasn’t it.  Which is what I responded with.  Followed by asking if he’d responded via DM to stay covert?  His response was wasn’t necessary for the rest of the world to know why or why not you were CCed but you’re right, unecessary.  Um.  What?  I’m glad he was all concerned about propriety now…where was this the night before when I was getting CCed on some inappropriate shit?!?!  But nonetheless, I think we all know, with an unwavering clarity, that I can’t fucking stand when people are vague don’t spit shit out don’t answer a simple question.  I mean fuck.  Can’t this dude answer 1 single question ever!?!?!

But as I am Queen of the Eternal Hopes, I failed to assume that asking yet another question would result in the same lack of clarity.  But this was my one chance to ask someone who both knew about my blog and that I’d gone out with, a very blog related question.  Did I have a Poker Face?

From his perspective I had none.  So your question is whether it’s obvious you like someone?  A little.  I thought about correcting him but what would the point of that be.  I’d just end up seeming bitchy and frankly I still wanted more information.  So I asked for clarification was this based upon Twitter, or in real life?  Plus it occurred to me it’s possible he wasn’t wrong, and perhaps when he said someone he meant The Vampire and had picked up on the fact that I was digging him.  So I asked that two, was he talking about himeself or TheVampire?

His response was In real life it seems like you like someone.  No poker face unless with a cock.  So.  Okay.  Wait.  What?  He must be talking about himself since he said IRL.  And…uh…really?  Cock?  SMH.  I tired to move past it though with a joke.  About whether or not he had a Poker Face.  No response came.  In all honesty, I probably should’ve left it at that.  Though if we’re being honest I should’ve known better than to ever date anyone from Twitter but lesson learned.

That being said.  I have this need.  To know exactly where I stand with a person.  To have things settled.  This is not a unique to me type issue.  I know this.  So a day or so later when still no response had come I sent one more DM.  Should I be taking your silence to mean that not only are you not interested in dating but you’re not interested in friendship either?


His response?


To Be Continued…

A Series of Unfortunate Events in Dating (Part Three)


[dropcap]I[/dropcap] know what you’re thinking For the love of God!!! When is this disaster with Kevin Bacon going to end and MY GOD do I feel your pain.  In the interest of authenticity I’ve included the whole story up to this far but honestly I’ve been bored with it since before it even ended because the truth of the matter is, we were a horrible fit.  Higher education and love of Social Media aside, we had nothing in common.  And our personalities were definitely not in sync.  Chalk it up to yet another instance of SSDated wears rose-colored glasses for the sake of dating and blogging.  Though to be fair, I rarely notice I’ve got the tinted specs on till after it’s all crashed and burned.  Hindsight being 20/20 and all that.  But I digress.  There’s one final part to the whole saga.  Well two really.  The final meeting and the kiss off.

ICYMI here’s part One and part Two of this dating saga…

It was the Saturday following the two dates (2nd with The Vampire and 3rd with Kevin Bacon).  To say that I was feeling meh would be an extraordinary understatement.  Things with KevinBacon had really gone sour.  Things with The Vampire were uncertain…because of the blog.  Or perhaps that wasn’t it at all.  I was moving in less than a week.  4th year of my 2nd degree was about to start.  I had to to start thinking about classes, and exams, reference letters, applications, CVs, writing papers, etc. etc. etc.  Or maybe I was just feeling chubby.  Or having an off day.  I honestly don’t know.  But I was not feeling IT.  So much so that I acted like a dick and bailed on the first party I was supposed to go.  My rationale?  If I don’t have your phone number (aka we’re friends of friends of friends), I’m allowed to bail if I’m not feeling it.  And thus I did.

The 2nd party was a little more tricky.  It was for a Twitter friend’s birthday.  I changed my outfit 3 times.  Antsy doesn’t even cover it.  And then I couldn’t get ahold of the only other person I really knew who was going to be at the party.  I had an inkling it was a car accident.  And it was.  But I went to the party anyway.  Birthdays are important and that’s just what you do.

I showed up.  It was a country bar.  In Gastown.  Bizarre.  But I carried on.  The lineup was massive.  The list was over at 1030 apparently.  Fuck.  Me.  Are you alone?  asked the bouncer.  Sure am I smiled.  And that was that.  Inside I went.  But before I’d even pulled out my wallet to pay the cover charge who should come over???

Why it’s motherfucking Kevin Bacon!?!?!  Fuck.  Me.  (are you starting to see where the pseudonym comes from?)  And he’s all smiles and Hellos and How do you know the birthday girl?s and I’m all awkward and taken aback and don’t tell anyone we know each other.  To which he promptly tells me oh I already told them.  I don’t remember if he told them we had met or were friends or had dated.  The truth was my blood pressure was already rising.  Why didn’t this dude know how to keep his fucking mouth shut yo?!?!?!  Ugh.  Let’s press on.

I spend the rest of the evening trying to be less awkward and mostly just trying to make sure the birthday girl got nice and shittered.  Because that’s what you do.  I chatted with some boys.  I chatted with some girls.  I met some people from Twitter and chatted with them.  All in all the night wasn’t half bad.  Minus the awkward that comes with pretending.

And I know it all sounds clear and obvious now.  But back then.  A that time.  I was still uncertain about Kevin Bacon.  Though there had been no kiss there had been a lot of other things that made me assume it was possible he dug me.  Whether or not I dug him.  Well.  That too was uncertain.  Because here’s the thing of the thing.  With the right pair of rose colored glasses on, anyone can look, at the very least, ‘dateable’. and I was wearing mine round the clock.

That being said.  I was started to get the clear indication that Kevin Bacon had his eye on another lady.  Regardless of what he said of her to me prior.  Eventually the clock struck midnight (or ya know…130ish) and it was time for this Cinderella to hit the bricks.  Birthday party or not, when you’re sober, you’re sober and there’s only so long I can put up with a hot sweaty club of tweens (or something close to them, yet legal).  And so I went home.


Third Date with Kevin Bacon: Too Nices Make a Wrong



[dropcap]W[/dropcap]ednesday I woke up, still high off of my day date with The Vampire, to a text message from Kevin Bacon.  The truth is I wasn’t even sure we were still going out what with the whole shouldn’t have told his ex he went out twice with SSDated debacle.  And after the awesomeness with TheVampire I wasn’t so sure I even wanted to go.  But we had made plans.  So I figured I’d just wait and see what’s what.  And then I got the text.


I am really hungover.

Fuck me.  Have I ever mentioned how much I detest vague people?  Have something to say then just spit it the fuck out.  Plus hadn’t we been through all this vague nonsense only a week ago when a conversation that should have used about 10 words (I told my ex I went out with SSDated 2 times, nothing else) instead took up 2 days and numerous texts?  Seriously.  Was he retarded.  Because after all.  What was the point of this text?


Was he telling me that the date was off?  (Which would’ve been fine with me)


Was he just filling me in on how he was feeling?  (Uh…yeah…I’m all set.)


Was this supposed to be a conversation starter?  (Generally, hello or was thinking about you work a ton better)


Was he looking for sympathy?  (Uh…yeah…I’m sober…so…yeah…I don’t really care that you’re hungover…)


I didn’t know what to make of this and maybe I was looking for a way out or maybe I was just trying to clarify but I texted back  did you want to cancel tonight then?  To which he answered  I don’t really want to, but I’m like a zombie right now.  I practically wanted to stab him.  Why do things have to be so difficult. All I could think was your a grown up.  Spit it out.  On or off.  Make a decision.  Though in all fairness the truth was I could’ve just be like.  Okay, deuces.  And never talked to him again.  Even earlier in the debacle.  But I have this thing.  Where I always want to think the best of people.  And so it’s like I’m always just waiting for them to prove me right.  To be as awesome as I hope they’ll be.  *Spoiler Alert*  He was not.  But I digress.

The thing of the thing is though.  It may have been a case of both of us being too nice.  You see, the way I remember it, it was him who wanted to still have the date.  But there’s the distinct possibility he went through with the date thinking it was ME who wanted to have it.  Because here’s what happened.  I responded back with Okay well only you know how you feel…  My intention was that he’d make the call one way or the other and we’d be done with it.  Only then I had a moment.  Where I felt like a bitch.  Here I was being super unsympathetic and since he hadn’t texted I’m hungover and let’s cancel I kind of just assumed he wanted the date to go ahead.  Big Mistake.  And my next mistake.  Was being nice.  Because in my misguided sympathies I suggested we cater to his being hungover and were he to feel better later, would it be easier to stay in and watch a movie rather than go to one?  Ugh.  What waaaassss I thinking!?!?!

Though at the time I didn’t know it was a mistake.  He seemed to be relieved at that.  We’d stay in.  Watch an old 80s movie.  At his place.  Great I thought.  And then he got all secretive.  Perhaps we’d go to a different location.  Jesus.  This guy was really off the mark in thinking I enjoyed surprises.  But I digress.  Eventually it was all settled and we met up.  And to be honest, once there it got a whole lot better.  He seemed really happy to see me.  He seemed relaxed.  He’d gotten cute snacks.  Had remembered I like Coke Zero and even bought some nuts (and popcorn) thus carrying on our long running joke about my love of nuts.  Which to be honest I don’t actually like that much.  It’s more of a ballgame thing.  But obviously I didn’t tell him that.  So basically it was all going great.

Until.  We started to watch the movie.  And he sat super for away.  Okay.  Okay.  Not SUPER far away.  But like watching a movie with your brother or a friend type far away.  Not conducive for kissing.  Not that I was exactly raring to go but I could’ve been.  After watching the movie for awhile.  It was hilarious.  And nothing makes me want to make out like some serious laughter.  But to be honest.  It was weird.  Weirder now as I look back but still weird at the time.  Well, mostly actually just confusing.  It was like one good thing, one bad thing, one good thing, one bad thing…and I just didn’t know what the deal was with KevinBacon.

Good sign:  Not cancelling on 3rd date

Bad sign:  Being weird about the location, etc.

Good sign:  Being happy to see me, cute snacks that showed he listened to me

Bad sign:  Sitting far away during movie

And then came the sign that I was certain meant he was interested.  But I have to sidebar a bit first here.  On this date, we were 2 weeks from the start of school, 1 week till I moved out to UBC.  I’ve talked a lot about how I would never let a boy interfere with school and thus dating during the school year is always a bit gamble.  My philosophy was that I would definitely date someone where there was no bullshit.  And this is what I told KevinBacon when he asked.

Good sign:  Kevin Bacon asks So are you going to be able to date someone when school starts?  And I told him the truth.  That pending no bullshit, of course I would.  What I wouldn’t want is someone who was unclear.  If he knew I liked him and I knew he liked me and we were passed all the bullshit uncertainty that comes with the beginning of dating then yes definitely.  I, of course, assumed he was asking about himself.  Because after all why the fuck would he give a shit if I had time to date anyone else.  That would just be really fucking weird, right?!?!

And then came the final bad sign of the night.  It was time to say goodbye.  We packed up (long story short but we weren’t at his place) and walked down to our cars.  At which point he barely hugged me and was off. Like what the fuck!?!?!  I had gone from no kissing to barely a hug?  This was worse than no dates at all.

A Series of Unfortunate Events in Dating (Part Two)

Dating Bombs


Continued from A Series of Unfortunate Events in Dating:  Part One

And then another bomb exploded.  As soon as I was home from my calm-myself-listening-to-good-music-too-loud-and-relax-type drive there it was.  On my Twitter.  A retweet from his ex.  Something about possibly having a girl crush on me after having read my latest post Looks A Bit Jizzy If You Ask Me or The New Thing I Learned.  And of course she was exaggerating, she even stated something akin to that.  And to be honest, in theory this was an awesome amazing thing.  Who doesn’t want someone to enjoy their writing so much?  But the ex of a guy you’ve just met reading your posts more frequently than your in real life friends what a bunch of assholes they are eh?  well that’s just um…uncomfortable?  tainted?  creepy?  unpleasant?  any of the above and obviously only as it relates to me.  For him.  For her.  For the rest of the world this would be irrelevant.  But for as to how I felt.  Kaboom.  Not good.


I waited till the next morning.  Which I personally think shows restraint 😛  And I texted him:


She tweeted me last night…



[the ex] tweeted me last night…so it would

be great if I knew what you told her.

Girl Crush?  Nothing I told her would 

produce that.  That’s all you!


(It’s like he thought I’d be pleased with this but 

all I could think was SPIT IT THE FUCK OUT 


Urgh…a straight answer would be really 

appreciated right now.  I just need to know what 

she knows about me.

Nothing.  Just that we went out twice. No

other details.


Yes but what I’m trying to find out is…is “we”

a.  You and some random chick?

b.  You and SSDated?

c.  You and a girl named [my real name]?

d.  You and SSDated, who’s real name is [real name]?

Just SSDated.  Holy Paranoid.


(Really??  Don’t poke the bear by calling it

paranoid, just sayin’.  Ugh.  Idiot.)

Yeah well I did ask you not to tell anyone, generally 

and her specifically…and the funniest part…I’m prob

the world’s most unsecretive-open-person and that

may have been one of the only things I’ve ever asked

anyone to keep to themselves…like ever.

Sorry.  I want to remain honest with

my ex.


*red flag* (Why didn’t he just tell her he went on

a date, knowing who he’s dating is not normal tell

your ex kind of information)

I get that (the honesty part not the giving of my

information part) …however, it wasn’t your info

to give.

It’s not going anywhere.


What’s not going anywhere?

The information



I said ok but it really wasn’t.  I was pissed.  I was irritated.  I was losing interest.  And I know what you’re probably thinking.  Why does she even have any interest at all…this dude sounds like a tool…or at least in how he’s acting towards her.  But the truth is there were definite positive things.  When at the ballgame and while talking about tweets it was mentioned that he did in fact keep up with what I was tweeting.  I had been concerned because in our over-covertness we didn’t tweet each other at all anymore and hadn’t that been a huge part of why I’d thought it would be a good idea to date someone from Twitter to begin with???  And that’s when he casually mentioned that he read my tweets each night.  Right when getting into bed he pull my feed up on his phone and go through the entire day.  Playing a game of catch up.  Keeping tabs on what I was saying.  Staying informed.  As one should, when dating on Twitter.

Plus there was still the occasional punny banter.  Plus we’d had fun on our dates regardless of other things in between…I think.  I think?  Yeah…I think we did.  Plus he was tall.  Plus he was educated.  Plus to be honest, it seemed like these bombs of unfortunate events really were just bad luck.  Bad timing.  Things misunderstood.  Or things interpreted.  Or whatever else you tell yourself when things should be fun and breezy and nothing but happy happy happy in the first few weeks and yet somehow here you are…still along for the ride…even though you’ve already hit numerous road-bumps on this supposedly fun journey.


*kaboom* he can’t keep a secret.


*kablam*  too much ex talk way way too soon

*kerplow* constant judgment by him about me

*kabuuuuuushh* lack of empathy for how things might affect me


*fizzle*  no  first kiss yet?? wtf?

A Series of Unfortunate Events in Dating (Part One)

Dating Bombs


[dropcap]W[/dropcap]hat had started out as awesome (or at least something with the potential for awesome) with KevinBacon had rapidly declined into meh or blurgh.  It was just one thing after another.  Like little land mines of awkward or un-fun or outright no good things just kept blowing up in my face. *Kaboom* *Kersplat* *Waste of fucking time* *Kablam*

A DM shows up the day after the ballgame.  Guess who was at the game last night? it reads the ex.  Fucking super I think.  Though I play it off like it’s no big deal at first.  Because I’m assuming, of course, that he has heeded my request for privacy the night before.  So I text:


That’s crazy that she was there…Vancouver is 

so small lol.  Did you tell her what you were 

doing there?



Probably shouldn’t blog about 2nd date being

at a ball game then 🙁 lol oh well, how’s your

day going?

I told her


Told her you went to the ballgame but not told

her you went with me though right??

No.  I was honest


Sorry to beat a dead whatever but it’s hard to 

tell with how you’re phrasing things and this 

being a text message and all…did you tell her

you’re dating me?

Not like that.  Tell you later.




I responded ok but the truth was a raging ball of irritation and anger.  What.  The.  Fuck.  Stupid.  Motherfucking.  Piece of shit BOY!!  And for more than one reason.  a. because why on earth was he being so vague…spit it the fuck out!!!  b.  ugh.  it was now suddenly clear he was one of those fools that thinks that  saying the word dating means some kind of commitment or even real attachment.  It simply indicates the plural continuous act of going on dates…dating! and finally c. because it was Friday night and now he’d just left me hanging in this limbo of anger and lack of clarity which would likely be unresolved anytime soon.  To be completely honest I was so pissed about this I had to go for a drive.  Just to clear my head and to let my frustrations out somewhere (other than on the head of a boy I barely liked and clearly didn’t respect me).  Now that I think of it…Why did I bother diverting my frustrations?!?!?!  But I digress…I’d have to wait for the next day to find out just exactly what information had been released.

Ballgames, Small Towns, and Nuts in My Mouth

Uncertainty in Dating


[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he population of Vancouver proper is something like 650,000 people.  And of those 650,00 there were approximately 5000 people who showed up to the Vancouver Canadians game.  And of those 5000 people, there were at least 5 people that I knew, not including my date Kevin Bacon.  There was a dude I went to High School with, a girl from an old softball team, two girls from my most recent softball team and at least one Twitter follower.  And they were all there separately too.  It was like a physical representation of my Six Degrees of SSDated theory.  In the flesh.  And oddly enough THIS isn’t where Kevin Bacon got his name.  That came later. After.

So there I was, standing outside the stadium with free tickets in hand, admittedly a tad overdressed.  I was wearing a white maxi dress and I know what you’re thinking you wore a dress to a ballgame??  But in defense, it was too hot for pants, and the only non scrubby shorts I had at the moment didn’t fit quite right aka I would’ve spent the whole night pulling them up and being fidgety.  This was, at least I looked hot, overdressed or not.  Plus it’s the summer yo.  Dresses are in.

Waiting for my date, I spotted a friend from softball.  Who proceeded to walk up to me and say something like I can’t believe you’re here!!! I thought we were going to go to a game together!!!  Now I know what you’re thinking.  SSDated, that’s a pretty fucking boring tidbit of information.  Did you really need to tell us that??  And the answer is yes.  Because of the action that was performed while she shouted this.  The #Tatslap (as we later called it).  With two hands held flat she proceeded to slap my cleavage.  One hand per tit.  Same time.  Slap slap slap.  Slap slap slap slap slap.  Slap slap.  I might have been less surprised if we had been at a bar or a nightclub.  I mean, people touch my boobs inappropriately more often than you’d think.  But it was 645pm on a bright summer evening…it was fucking daylight.  There were kids and families and boys everywhere.  Everyone was looking.  She was oblivious.  I was mortified.

Luckily she stumbled off before Kevin Bacon arrived, and we he did we headed inside and straight for the concessions.  I mean what’s a baseball game without nuts and hotdogs, and all the extensive innuendo and witty repartee that goes with food shaped like or named after genitalia.  I mean seriously.  I also got a fountain soda.  Yes, I am Canadian.  Yes, I do say soda.  I’m just charming like that :P.  And you’ll notice I said fountain, because the truth is, I like it better that way.  Soda, on ice, is less fizzy, and just the way I like it.  He was taking notes.  As a good dude should.  And then he paid.  Like a gentleman.  Or because I had gotten the tickets, though free.  Either way, a meal was had and not on my dime.  Dating was going swell.

We found our seats at one of the most packed Canadians games I’ve ever been to.  Wedged in between a row of hot boys and my date wasn’t a bad situation though, so it was all good.  Not long into the game I checked my phone.  There was a tweet from @Singlevanblonde.  Something like Is that you in the gold leaf earrings??  And to be honest my first thought was holy shit who is your optometrist because I need to get into to see him asap if he can make anyone see that while.  My second thought was…I’m a celebrity!!!!  My third thought, being the most rational and un-dick-like was holy fucking shit! and where are you sitting.

To be fair, I had mentioned to her before the game that I was going, and also the truth…which is that if you know what to look for (chubby bunny, big boobs, big smile, big teeth, big personality?) I’m easy to spot in a crowd.  I asked where she was sitting but after not spotting her with ease (after all, a red shoe for an avi was all I had to go on)…I figured we’d meet another time and went back to focusing on the game and my date.  I mentioned all this to my date which led to a discussion about Twitter and that was when I confirmed that his ex was in fact following me on Twitter and a regular reader.  He honestly didn’t seem very surprised.

Detour.  I am not a very private person.  This should be obvious with the blog and the rampant tweeting but nonetheless that’s still “online life” and I feel it necessary to confirm I’m exactly as I appear, in real life too.  I’m not sure I’ve asked anyone to keep a secret ever.  About anything.  Seriously, I think never.

Detour 2.  I was already super skeeved out about his ex reading the blog (not to mention I still was not completely sold on it being an innocent coincidence but more on that later).  Even worse than her reading the blog would be if she knew that it was him I was dating (and/or conversely that he was dating me).  And the finale, the worst of worsts, the stickiest and most icky of situations??? would be if she knew who ME was…like if Alfred told the Gotham Gazette the true identity of Batman.

Back on Track.  Because of the reasons just given above, I asked Kevin Bacon, explicitly and without any confusion, to keep this information to himself.  Not to reveal my real life identity, not to reveal that he was dating me, not to reveal anything.  Nothing.  Nada.  No reveal.  The one secret I’ve possibly ever asked.  To be kept.  Silent.  *finger to lips secret keeping gesture*

The night went on.  The ballgame was good.  The chatter flowed.  Though I’ll admit touching was decidedly missing.  Unlike with The Vampire, with whom there had been lots of adorable and at the perfectly right time kind of touching, there was almost none with Kevin Bacon.  And this being a second date, it was a bit weird.  Not to mention his issue about outer beauty and attraction coming up again.  The truth is I might come back to this issue at a later date but at the moment I find it so tedious I can’t get into it except to say that if you can’t tell your girlfriend you think she’s beautiful (even if it’s because she’s an amazing person and you see the beauty in that)…you’re misguided and probably not for me.

But like I’d listen to logic on a second date.  Fuck that noise.  After the game he walked me to my car.  It still seemed pretty early and with the possibility that he was waiting for me to indicate an interest, I asked if he wanted to grab a drink or a coffee or something.  I would love to he said except I have to be at blah blah something about an event yada yada yada trying to formulate a business relationship but another time?? etc. etc. etc.  Disappointing.  But then at my car we talked for probably another 20 minutes easily…long past when all of the other cars had left.  And then came the best sign of all.  He was booking the third date.  So do you…uh…watch movies?  He asked.

About which I obviously mocked him…who doesn’t watch movies?? I laughed…apparently there are real people who do this.  Obviously they’re ridiculous.  I bet they don’t watch TV.  Or laugh either.  No Fun Nellies.  But I digress.  We made plans.  For the next Wednesday.  Put it in his phone.  A man who makes plans.  Locked in.  We all know I fucking love that.  And with that it was another……hug……*sigh*……and he was off.  And I was left wondering.  No kiss?  That can’t be good.  Was he a gentleman waiting for a more private location (aka a movie theatre?) or was this a sign he wasn’t into me???  I’d have to wait and see I guess.

Twitter, Texting, Condoms, and Bush

No Busy


[dropcap]R[/dropcap]emember when I thought dating someone from Twitter would be fucking awesome?  Well turns out there were a few glitches.

The first was obvious and universal:  I suddenly felt like I had to censor what I was saying.  Not necessarily in regards to things like balls and blowjobs but with regards to tweeting about other boys.  Should I still tweet about The Vampire even though Kevin Bacon can see?  Should I change my behavior for a boy?  What about tweeting about other boys?  What about tweeting my thoughts about Kevin Bacon himself?  What was a girl to do.

The second was Kevin Bacon specific:  He had an ex dating blogger.  And while on our first date I had recognized her name as someone who retweeted me, I wasn’t certain it was a regular thing.  For all I knew she just stumbled across my Twitter and didn’t even read the blog.  This was not the case.  The day after I wrote the Bird Seed Theory, she retweeted it.  Apparently she had liked.  And what’s not to like.  It was brilliant lol.  But seriously.  It was clear she was a regular reader.  Which in theory is fucking awesome.  But in practice, really freaked me the fuck out.  

So initially Twitter was just a problem for me.  Because it was making me uncomfortable.  And then it became a problem…well I don’t know if problem is the right word…but…it became a thing when the night before our ballgame, our second date, our Thursday night, KB asked me

Did you have a date tonight?



Busted.  Thanks twitter.



Normally if a guy asked me that I’d kind of say

none of your business…but we’ve got a bizarre 

situation with twitter and all that.  

I know. No biggee. You have research

to do.


The truth is 

it’s kind of along the lines of ‘do you really want

to know this stuff?’

Like “was your last boyfriend bigger 

than me?”


No…lol not like that…plus would any girl ever

answer that honestly?!?! Current man = always

the biggest and best 😉

Good.  On a related note, my ex texted me

to ask me to come pick up my box of extra

large condoms.


(I of course assume he’s just making a joke)

Heyyoooo *ouch* I think you just poked me in 

the eye through the phone #HUGE

Apparently the new guy didn’t fit *ouch 




Okay.  This was getting a bit weird.  So I asked.  Was he joking or did this actually happen.  Apparently it actually happened.  The conversation continued where I tried to convey that this was weird and creepy (while being nice) and he tried to convince me that this was normal and why be wasteful.  But even if the latter was the right case scenario.  Why bring it up to a girl you’re going on a second date with.  Not to mention a girl who is already skeeved out by the numerous connections to the ex and another girl.

But then we were back to the witty repartee.  It was baseball + adorable + hilarious + sexual metaphors.  And we were hitting it out of the park #SeeWhatIDidThere.  Until I changed the subject and asked about pet peeves.  Which were all pretty normal.  Until he answered Bush.  I of course clarified, the political figure or the hairstyle? and he responded both.  And we were back to…not great.  Because while I love some sexual innuendo and witty banter.  Telling a chick, you’ve never even kissed, that you don’t like a bush.  Well.  That rubs a girl the wrong way.  Not that it would actually matter as I don’t go bush au naturel but to me it feels akin to a guy saying I don’t want to know if you ever have your period either.  And immediately I’m like I’m woman hear me roar and fuck you and all that jazz.

So I changed the subject to something more neutral.  And then it was time for bed.  And tomorrow would be our second date.


Rules of Dating: Booking, Bailing, and Baseball

Making Plans


[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n Dating (capital D Dating), I’m always fighting a constant battle between what I think I should be doing in dating and what I want to do in dating.

Example.  I know I should wait for the boy to contact me, I know I should wait for him to ask me out.  But I want to just ask a boy out because I have some free time and I want to fucking hang out and doesn’t anybody else get tired of the dating dance?

And I was tired.  And excited to have gone on a date with a guy who didn’t seem completely retarded.  Plus there’d been some cute texting and some fun DMs on Twitter.  So I figured fuck it.  So on Sunday, after getting home from my date with TheVampire and on my way to a movie with a friend, I texted.

Hey 🙂 Hope your weekend is going good…just seeing if you wanted to make plans to do something this week?  


And yes I know that seems a little mundane but I’ve never claimed to be a stand up comedian 24/7.  Sometimes you’re just a normal person.  Asking normal things.  Getting shit done.  And apparently it went over well because he responded.

Yes.  Let me get back to you on which day… and before I had time to worry that this was a blow off, he texted again.  What’s best for you?  I’m busy Monday and Tuesday for sure.

And we went from there.  I just happened to have tickets to a ballgame and Thursday was locked in.  Plus all the obvious witty banter about nuts.  We were going to a ballgame after all.

Things were really shaping up.  After 7 months of no good dating I had just managed to go on 2 good first dates.  Had just booked a 2nd date with Kevin Bacon and within hours of returning home from my Sunday day-date with The Vampire had a message on POF waiting for me.  Informing me that The Vampire had in fact had an awesome time too and wanted to hang out again.  Not wanting to seem too eager, I waited till Monday to reply.

He responded back Tuesday and we made plans for Wednesday.  Except unfortunately our plans were still a bit loose.  He suggested we go somewhere downtown.  I didn’t really get the logic in this since I was living out in the burbs till the end of summer, had a car and he lived in Burnaby.  Why wouldn’t we just hang out in Burnaby.  But perhaps he wanted to go somewhere fun.  Unfortunately as luck we have it we didn’t end up hanging out.  Now in all fairness he could make the claim that we didn’t have plans yet and thus him being tired (from work) and having homework from school was a valid reason to bail on hanging out and not hit me up till Thursday.  I think we’re all quite aware though that I don’t think like that.  You make a plan.  You stick to the plan.  At the bare minimum you contact the other person to ensure bailing is mutually understood.

That being said, since I already knew we weren’t written in the stars, so to speak, because of his religious predilections, I figured I’d let this one slide.  Everybody fucks up once and he did seem pretty into me.  But that doesn’t mean I’d be sticking my neck out.  The effort was his to expend.

Kevin Bacon: A Date By Any Other Name (Part Three)


Continued from…Here

So let’s sum up the so called date so far with Kevin Bacon:

1.  He didn’t find Friends funny  (minus)

2.  He’s formally educated (BA)  (plus)

3.  He didn’t always pay on the first date  (minus)

4.  He asked a ton of questions  (plus plus)

5.  His ex was a dating blogger  (minus minus minus)

6.  He had been unclear about this being a date  (minus)

7.  There was a lot of laughter on the date  (plus plus)

8.  And then the thing I haven’t yet told you about.  When sushi was over and the bill came and the lineup of people wanting to fill our seats was out the door.  I guess he didn’t want the date er…whatever…to end yet because he said Let’s go to Starbucks just up the block so I can buy you a coffee.  (plus plus)


The truth is though…regardless of the drawbacks or red flags I was seeing…I was out with a boy.  And I was laughing.  And that my friends, means I was having a good time.  Well.  Until he said something a bit.  Uh.  Off.

Somehow we were talking about clothes.  And how he didn’t so much like when people said he was better looking in a specific outfit.  Because he felt that it was a reflection of some sort of negative aspect of our society…judging people based on their looks rather than personalities.  Though I’ll admit I was a little confused on his argument.  Because it seemed he was saying it was okay to compliment an outfit.  Because that was something a person has a hand in.  But it was not okay to compliment a person’s literal innate appearance.  And that’s when he said something along the lines of your outfit looks really nice.

Now I’m all for recognizing that what is inside a person is what’s important.  But a complete denial of how they present themselves physically?  That seems.  Well.  Unrealistic.  In denial.  Ridiculous.  Because after all, when you love someone and you’re fucking them senseless making love having sex nobody ever says you’re so hilarious or fuck me harder you big kind hearted moralistic stud.  Just sayin’.  And while I get not everybody will think my bunny teeth adorable or see the sparkle blue in my eyes…I wouldn’t want to be with a person who didn’t.  Even if it was my jokes and the way I make a sandwich that brought him to that place.  It doesn’t matter why you think I’m beautiful.  Just as long as you do.  I’m a package deal.  But I need to hear it.

So here’s the thing of the thing though.  What is the difference between meeting a new potential friend and going on a date???  To me…the difference is 2 fold.  Attraction and Intent.  While I had learned throughout the date that he had intent (albeit it in a bit of a pansy-undeclarative-way)…I had no idea about the attraction.  And this whole conversation about the importance of what was inside really wasn’t helping things.  Because if I went off of that alone well shit son, I’d think the whole fucking world loved and wanted to bone me on the regular.  And we all know that’s just not fucking true.  So what’s a girl to think?  Which compartment is a boy supposed to fit in?

Nonetheless the date carried on and somewhere around the 4.5 hour mark it was clear that his friends (who were texting him and he was checking) were harassing him to get his ass over to the poker game he had originally committed to that night (before I’d kidnapped him with this date obviously).  So Kevin Bacon walked me to my car and said something about definitely wanting to hang out with me in the future.  You’ll notice the use of the words hang out rather than say take me out [on a date] or go out with me or go on another date with me.  This kind of ambiguity was not pleasing to my desire to know where I stood…attraction wise…with Kevin Bacon.

And with that we hugged goodbye and went our separate ways.  Uncertain.  Excited.  Who knows.  We’ll see.