If it smells like a psycho, it's probably a psycho.

Those my friends are words to live by.

Let's get a few things out of the way to start.  I love life.  I love experiences.  I love happiness.  I also love the negatives that life has to offer.  You may think I'm certifiably insane, but that's my perogative. 

So here we go:

- I have forgotten how many boys I have dated

- I definitely don't know how many men I have dated 

- I can remember all of my exes names and phone numbers

- I have online dated, more than once, and I will most likely never do it again

- I have met significant others organically

- I have met possible suitors organically

And let me tell you the age-old rule of if it smells like a psycho, it's a psycho and you should run.  And some of those gentlemen have be capital "P" "Psycho".

I recently met a said human being.  Very charming, very handsome, seemed to have some good things going.  I gave him my number.  Bad idea.  Such a bad idea.  Dude is cray.  And by cray, I mean he thinks it's okay to degrade women, use obscene language, and insinuate that he's the shit and it's my loss.

I'm sorry but can someone please explain to me when it became normal for someone to go apeshit crazy when you have met someone once, talked to her for maybe 4 hours?  This is ridonculous and needs to stop.  There's a reason you're single, dude.  There's a reason your ex screwed you over.  And it's definitely not me or her being the problem.  Guess who it is?  Yep, you're right, YOU!  You earned a gold star, in reality, you're probably closer to earning a restraining order and something tells me that you know what that's like.

Don't get me wrong I believe that people deserve a chance until they've proven that they don't deserve a chance.  Looking back at my past debacles of relationships I realized once upon a time me would have probably delusionally given this crazy horse a chance.  Thank God I have grown the eff up.  Chalk it up to learning from experience.

To the future gentlemen that I might undoubtedly meet, although, I love the experience, I could do with a little less bizarre.  Please take heed to the following requests:

- don't be a psychopath

- don't be a sociopath 

- don't be a crazed addict- drug addicts, alcoholics, sex addicts, and the emotionally demented need not apply

-  fellows living with moms because it's just easier that way, please walk on by (I get if there's legitimate reasons, but if you're 30 living with ma and pa because you can, please leave)

- have a career, not just a job

- have goals and them not be just video-game related

- want a girlfriend, best friend and possibly one day a wife and a family (note there is no rush with this)

- be into health

- be supportive of the people in your life

- be understanding

That's the list of my new requirements.  If you don't have those or don't foresee attaining those qualities, do a majority of woman-kind and especially myself a favour and pound sand.  Quit reproducing.  I mean it, quit.  Capital Q.

Women- if you don't have these requirements, get a grip.  Or jump off a bridge. Please also stop reproducing.

I would really like to know how natural selection enables the physically superior of species, however within humans, the idiocy continues to reproduced with.

This was a bizarre post and I'd like to apologize.  On the other hand, I think I got the point across- if it smells like a psycho, it's most likely a psycho.  Run. Like. The. Wind.  And then call the cops.

Bloody hell with a cherry on top

If that subject line confused you, it's clearly done it's job, impeccably.  This post is probably going to be one of the most random entries to date, so prepare yourself.

I have been hopped up on antibiotics and some sort of inhaler since Friday.  Oh goody.  My favourite part of being sick is the crazy drugs that are prescribed to you where the side affects include things like dizziness, nausea, dry throat and another all time fav not included on my current list is hallucinations.  Not even going to lie.

Try going to a movie on a drug that causes hallucinations and see what happens when you're walking down the stairs from your seat and it looks like shit is flying at you.  I bet you $10 that that flying crap is going to make you go off balance and you're gonna tumble down the stairs.  Yeah, I'd win the 10 bucks, cause folks that has happened to me.  Surprisingly in that lucid, high state, I did not break a bone, but throw me in any other bizarre situation and you can bet your bottom dollar that I'm going to either break something or tear a ligament.  

Anyhow, let's be honest, being sick ain't for the faint of heart.  But there's only one  direction when you reach the bottom, and lets hope that that's up.  Because if it really means that I'm gonna roll around on the ground, dry heaving, and coughing up my right lung, I'm effed.

That's what I got to say about that.  Now off to take a couple puffs. Of. My. Inhaler. Jeez Louise, get your head straight.  This is a family-friendly blog (we can hold onto hope, realistically, if children are reading this, there's some bigger issues at hand).

Good night folks.

I'm good at dating...

Not!

So, let's just say, I'm not the most gifted or lucky in love.  I am a put her heart on her sleeve, give you the shirt off my back (if flashing were okay) type of girl and usually it means that I'm hypothetically topless and alone.  How does that happen?

Anyways, I'm sure I could read up on women with daddy issues, how women don't fall to their gender roles and look after themselves, or about how men genuinely only want the size 0, blonde, newly legal bimbo telling me why I'm single.  But I think I'm just gonna go with my singleness is a purely "me" issue.  I find men who need work.  I like a good fixer upper.  The problem with this idea is that eventually you burn out.  The relationship becomes completely lopsided and then you're capsizing like the freaking Titanic.

So, here's the thing.  Maybe it's best to be single and ready to mingle until you figure your shit out.  I've been single a lot,  I've also had a lot of relationships that I learned more about numero uno- moi.  I'm not saying I'm a serial dater, but I've been open to the experience.  And man, has it been a ride.

I'm showing my exes one day at a time that I'm better off without you, but I'm better off as well from knowing you.  There's a frightening thought cause some of you were freaking headcases.

Well, there you have it folks, that's the relationship/single bubble in a nutshell.

Now bugger off.

And the beat goes on...

Sometimes people can get so absorbed in their own lives that they forget that the world is out there carrying on without them.  Sometimes I am that particular person.

I usually pride myself on being in tune to other people.  I like to ensure that there is a level of balance, peace or equilibrium in all of my relationships.  In saying that, it's easy for me to revert back into myself so that I can recharge.

I think that the biggest thing for me to learn is to stop giving so much of myself to one person or multiple people. I've never been big into New Year resolutions and have always thought if there's something that you're unhappy with, you should just change it.

Maybe 2014 I will make a resolution or two.  The resolution will be to follow through.  Now doesn't that sound lovely?

Pep talk- buying a house style

So, I've been looking to buy a place for the past few months.  I've gone from buying used to new, back to used.  I've looked at townhouses, apartments, and investing with my parents in a single family home, which in fact would be a dual family home...

The fact of the matter is that in less than a year I will be 30 and I might still be living at home with my parents and my two younger brothers.  And that petrifies me.  Seriously.

When my Mom was 29, she had already popped out two kids and was on her way to being mortgage-free with my Dad.  Granted, I get that the times are a changing.  I know I haven't met Mister Right (I did meet a Wright, but that was all wrong) and buying a place by myself is really the smartest thing that I could do.  But I can't help but wonder, how many people are like me out there?  We're twenty and thirty-somethings and we're living the dream at home with ma and pa.  And by dream, I mean nightmare. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but there's something about spreading your wings and being self-sufficient and doing whatever you want.

I took a Stats Can call the other day and was intrigued by my responses.  So intrigued that I look forward to seeing the current stats in Canada about whom lives with whom and how old all those cool cats are.  Buying a place on a single income is one scary mofo of a situation, so why not live with the 'rents a little longer?

My Grandmother advised me the other day that I should be asking my Dad for help to buy a place, because, as she put it- my brothers can go out and find wives, while I most likely will end up alone.  Well, Happy Holidays to you too my dear Grandmother.  Sheesh.  And I've travelled with you.  I have listened to your inane dating fiascos and I'm going to be the old spinster....  I feel like Mindy from the Mindy Project, except I don't live in NY, I'm not a rich, successful doctor, and well yeah.   So really, not like Mindy at all.  That's about it.

Don't take this the wrong way, I'm not bitter.  I accept that I might not have the fairy tale ending with Prince Charming, but damn, a little help?  I'm nifty.  I like sports.  I like beer and can drink whiskey.   And I throw a mean right hook when I need to.  This really doesn't sound like the enticing summary of an online dating profile...  But I don't want that.  I am happy being alone.  I know who I am.  I know what I want, what I will accept and what I won't.  And at the end of the day, I have me and I love me.  I have fantastic friends and family and no bs about wondering when Capitain D-bag is going to call.  You might think I'm jaded, but I call it realistic.  And let's face it, I'm fantastic, and I'm buying a condo by myself.  Preferably before I'm 30.  

An asshole is always an asshole

After a few glasses of vino, oh who the hell am I kidding, how about a bottle, I have found my thoughts lingering towards you.

While I've deleted you from my phone and told you I don't want to talk to you again, I actually feel an intense need to message you.  I know you're no good for me and I highly doubt that you even think of me.  But that is what bothers me.  How could I have gone for the safe bet and have you end up a complete and utter asshole?  How could I have thought that someone as timid as you would have turned out to be a jerk?

I know that not everyone is going to mesh, in my mind, I thought we would.  I thought you would have seen that.  Here I am on a couch, in a room that we have once been in and I'm wondering if any of it ever meant anything or if it was just a pile of shit.

Neither here nor there, it really doesn't matter anymore.  You wanted to maintain a friendship, but when it came down to it, you didn't respect me enough to show me what a friendship would mean.  I'm better off without you and everyone I've talked to believes the same thing.  I would have been what you wanted or needed because I cared and loved you, but you were never going to be what I wanted or needed.

It's heart breaking, but it's just another chapter closed.  Another disappointment that will lead down the road.  I know one day I will find what I'm looking for and honestly you probably never will.  I thank you for the lesson, for the fun times while they lasted and for the sheer sadness that's left me feeling like this.  You'll never read this, but at least it's better than maintaining some illusion of contact.

I might write my memoirs one day and you will be in them.  You will be the portion of the man who made me love him, but never had any intention of loving me back.  You, my friend, are a coward, as Bob Marley said.  Thank you.

Random

It's been awhile, what can I say.  Life is interesting to say the least.  I've learned a lot over this past year.  Just last month marked a year since my injury.  I've started bootcamp and now do Pilates a couple of times a week.  I'm on a mission.  My mission is health and there's no looking back.

Not only is physical health my goal, but also ensuring that my mental health stays in the right zone.  Over this past year, I have been involved in a somewhat tumultuous relationship.  I've cared for the man and loved him, hoping all along that it would reciprocate.  Over the past 11 months, awaiting him to make up his mind, has left my self-esteem low, my heart broken a few times, and a general level of disdain towards the whole situation.

Finally it's completely over.  We are going to try to be friends, but I don't know what that looks like and most of my friends don't get why I would want to maintain a friendship with him.  In all honesty, that's just the person that I have always been- the one who puts herself last and is always concerned about the other party.  I really as truly believe that that is my downfall.  I don't foresee myself changing who I am as a person, so I guess I will see if he actually wants to maintain a friendship.

In the meantime, here's to Bootcamp, Pilates, eating clean, meditating, and feeling comfortable in my skin again.  I have a lot of self-love, it just so happens that sometimes it gets questioned.  Here's too my 29th year.  Here's to the year that I meet my health goals.  And here's to the year where I don't allow a man to decide my value.