Online Dating

 

This year I opened myself up to all experiences. I am officially open to people, and receptive of the needs that I regularly deny myself. Finding people is hard. I don’t think it’s because I’m unattractive or a crazy lady.  I try the in person routes, but to no success.  It’s like they are too self involved in their day to realize they just got hit on. Or maybe I am a bit too forward. Hmm, would it be too forward you think if a woman walked up to you and said:

“Hey, your cute. Wanna date?”

Haha, of course that is NOT what I do, but that is what is said on the internet, (in a much more vanilla wording.)

Since regular routes are not working for friends or for finding a date I’ll give the online date world a try.  Well here is what has happened thus far.

I look around for some dating sites, I choose one and fill out my profile, feels like an hour has passed just talking about myself. Since I am not narcissistic this is an uncomfortable task.  I understand that I must let someone know a bit about me, but what do you say?

I am a crazy person by day and serial killer by night. Want to know more? Send me a message!

Or I could say something like;

I am a quiet and career focused  lady by day but I am called mistress DeWinter by night. Crack that whip!

No, this will not do at all. Fun to say, only not truthful. I fill it out as honestly as I can, then take a pic of myself and post all this information for the masses in the abyss to judge me. Dating feels like it has become an auction. (Do I hear One bid, one, one how about two! Sold!)

If you have been judged worthy you get a “hey” or a “meet me” pic.  How disappointing. “Hey” is the new pick up line.  A single word. Not even enough intellectual thought for a “how are you today?” Or worse yet the ever so popular;

“Hey, you are beautiful (or cute) wanna be my FWB?”

For those who don’t know what FWB is, its Friends with benefits. I am sure everyone knows this, but just in case I thought I would go ahead and say it.

What happened to the creative pick up lines that sound cheesy or even make you laugh. You know those lines are all crap, but it’s fun to have some man make the effort to try.

Man:”Was you father a thief?”

Woman: “no.”

Man: “Then who stole that stars from the skies and put them in your eyes?”

Ha ha, those horrible cheesy lines. What happened? That was fun, made me smile and broke the ice for conversation to open up.

Ah, those were the days. haha. As far as the “meet me” app I get 50 or more “meet me” daily. Do you honestly think that someone is looking at all of them? This is not what I am wanting at all. This feels so superficial and cheap. I don’t need my ego stroked, and I don’t want men to judge me on my looks. Sure physical attraction is a plus, however, there is so much more to a relationship than looks.

Anyhow, with a “hey” the game begins. (This is the most mind numbing form of dating I have ever experienced.)  I of course am trying to play the game, ya know, don’t hate the player type thing so get on board. I click through the many images of men who want to “chat with me”. Then I return with the same lack of courting skills (since it appears to be the norm) and “hey back”.

Trying to find the rose among weeds is a daunting task. I would guess that out of 10 chats, 6 are wanting sex tonight so give them your cell number and lets get busy!  And just for good measure they send you a picture of their penis, fully erect and ready for your to hop on! Then there is about 3 who want to talk about sex and hope that you are eventually going to give in. Then there is one. You think may be a possible meet. Grate!  Your conversations were open and creative and you are actually looking forward to meeting this man. Now you arrange a meet. Prepare yourself, after meeting and the awkwardness of the initial hello is over guess what he wants to talk about or do? Just take a wild, crazy guess? If you guessed sex you are correct! Out of 10 messages you narrowed things down to, put in your time and effort for at least a couple weeks and you end up with… zero prospects. So anti-climatic!

Do you think this makes me bitter? No, not at all. Only frustrated. I absolutely love men. I love how they smell, how they look, how they laugh and how they love, talk and treat a woman. Men are one of the best creatures on this planet. Only if they are raised right of course. You know, don’t teach your sons that woman are just dip stick holders.

Where are the men among men who take the time to write a proper hello, take the proper time to read through the profile. Who knows, maybe he will realize she is crazy and you don’t want her, or maybe he may feel like she is someone who you want to work your ass off to win over.

Online dating…I am not sure how this is going to work out but I am still trying to find even a friend. I’m a good person online so, reason says that maybe there is another good person online.

Wish me luck!

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Today is my best day!

 

Today I saw a shirt that had the above words, I thought to myself what a great slogan. No matter what type of day you are having “Today is my best day” and make it that.

These past few years have turned into a slump, after losing my job and forced to drop out of a course I wanted to take due to financial need I have been just going from one job to another looking for some way to make ends meet. The feeling like your running in a huge mud puddle and sinking. I believe that we have influences all around us in large or small ways, the milk spilled so now you are late for work, does that mean you have to behave like a Bitch to everyone? No, not at all.

As you are just spreading your negative influence so, when I see something that is a positive influence I try to embrace it into my day and week. We all have an abundant amount of negative influences all around us every second every day. How we handle them is what sets us apart from others, are we better than those negative influences? I’m trying to be.

Today is my best day, if I take a step back and ponder this, how profound it can be of a statement. I have had so few “best days” that I think I need to re-think how I look at myself. My daughter is invited to a wedding and we have nothing to give or even a dress for her to wear. I have not been able to buy cloths in well over three years and am down to two pants and 4 shirts and one bra. I now have every sock with holes that have been re-sewn so many times that the sock is see through with only strands of thread holding together. I have sewed my cloths so many times that the patches and torn material is so thin no patch or thread is going to save it. My jeans are practically see through and now a single mom looking for work again.

So when the “today is my best day” filled my head I have to admit first glance I thought “ya right!” but then I stopped stressing out and decided yes, today is my best day.

I have a roof over my families head, I have a small amount to food to stave of hunger, small amount and not very healthy but it will keep us alive. We do have cloths, even though they are the holiest things I have ever owned. We have each other.

I think I must stop focusing on the horizon, and start learning to enjoy the walk.  Just like this quote:

If you’re going through hell, keep going. Winston Churchill

So when I am down I just need to think of it as I am just passing through, not stopping, not dwelling on anything, I’m just passing through. So, today is my best day and so will tomorrow and the tomorrows after?

I want to pass on the inspiration, I do not know who made the shirt, if it is a famous quote or what it is, but I want to pass on the inspiration to you. Make today and every day your best day by looking at what you have and not what don’t.

Make today your best day.

I Look Up To A Third Grade Drop Out

What a strange thing to say right? Me, who has been educated beyond the third grade, I have  multiple certificates and by all account would be considered well-educated. (Even though I struggle with some things I am working on) Why on earth would I look up to a third grade drop out?

This particular third grade drop out was in third grade three times. Failed because he broke his writing arm one year. Failed the next because he broke his other arm. The final time in grade three he dropped out and went to work. An eleven year old boy digging ditches to put food on the table and a roof over his families head. This eleven year old became a man, became the sole money earner for 8 people.

This drop out loved to read and would read anything he could get his hands on. He worked hard all his life. He dug ditches, cleaned out sewers, drove heavy equipment, learned to repair heavy equipment, started his own logging business. Married and raised 7 children, including one adoption and cared for many foster children over the years.

This man was strong, wise, and always ready to lend a helping hand. He loved people, loved to talk with people, loved to hear their stories and always lifted them up before he left. He always did his best to make a wrong right. He overcame alcoholism, he overcame abuse, he overcame hardship and starvation. This man’s life experiences were vast and hard. He still rose above it, learned from it and always worked on making himself a better man, a better husband, and a better father  and friend. He is an inspiration to all who met him. I never met a person over the years who knew him say anything bad, always pleasant memories and stories of how he made their lives better.

Anytime I needed help he was always there with the best support and advice. He would ponder what your predicament was, then gave you a couple of choices. He always let you know how he saw those choices would work out. From there he allowed me to make my own choice, no matter my choice, no matter if he thought it was right or wrong, he always backed me up. Always loved me even when I really messed things up. He said that it is when we mess things up is when we find out what kind of person we truly are. If we make it right, if we do all we can to swallow our pride and make amends that is the lessons we must learn to become stronger. He taught  me to never carry the past into the future with  me. Let the past be a distant memory and never let it control your future. By watching how he loved my mother I learned how love should be, how fighting to work it out should be. How to forgive each other and how to always see the person inside and never see them in a superficial way.

When I was taking my college exams he decided to take a placement test. He just wanted to see if he was still at grade 3 level. Turns out he was a 4 th year engineer level. He had the life experience and read his way to such a high education that he still succeeded without stepping foot into University.

My father was is the man I compare all men to. This is a tall order follow, but I don’t need a degree, I don’t need a beautiful face, I don’t need fancy cars or trucks or anything materialistic. I want the love my father showed, I want a man who when he see his faults does everything in his power to change for the better.  Quit drinking or quit drugs or become more patient. To have courage to make amends, to make a better choice and learn from his mistakes. To always work hard at any job he has, as long as he takes pride in his work and never gives up. I don’t care if he cleans out sewers, he does it for me, and the family and holds his head up high. That is a great man.

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t miss my father. Not a day that I wish I could share my day with him. I want to hear his voice, his laugh, to feel his bear hugs and see into his eyes one more time.  To ask his advice just once more.

I try to honour my father by living like he did. by always improving on myself, by becoming stronger and more caring. I try to treat people with love and respect, even when it’s hard. I try to read everything I can to improve my mind and learn from others. I try to make wise choices, and to lend a helping hand where ever I can. I try to raise my child with love, understanding and open honesty.  I try to not judge people, not at all, not how they look, or talk, or choices they made or religion or anything superficial.

A third grade drop out is my biggest inspiration, my biggest fan, my best friend, and my father.

 

Oh Gravity

As I get older I see gravity is becoming a bit of a bitch. I suppose I should look into a support group. I wonder if there is a nipple dragging group out there?  I don’t want to be a “tripper” when I am in a nursing home, geesh, I could break a hip. A bit dramatic? maybe so. However this is a serious problem among women! 🙂

We all want to look good right? We all want to feel attractive, wanted and desired right? Hell ya. I love being loved, touched, kissed, licked, who doesn’t? But as I get older and hips have widened I see the downside of age. Such cruel reality.

Why bother, no one is looking under my shirt anymore. Why can’t I just let it all hang out? Swinging to and fro, who cares? A strong gust of wind and I have my own flags cheering me on! Other than the people they may slap in the face, oh no, more like slap in the knees! My apologies.

I am exaggerating of course. But some days it feels like the sex appeal is all gone. The body changes through life I get it. So, how do you feel sexy as you age? How do you make yourself feel like you have a” little dirty secret” that puts a little bounce back in your step? You know, when you used to wear lingerie under your cloths or freshly shaved/waxed vagina, or whatever you did you make you feel good. What can you do now? Exercise!

Yup, I saw an older lady from the back at first, it was a body of a 20 or even 30 year old. Then she turned around, and my mouth dropped! She was not at all a young woman. I had to ask her what she did? Is this plastic surgery? Nope. She does yoga 3 days a week and pole dancing 3 days a week. POLE DANCING! I asked her how old she was. She was 67 years old. I was so impressed. She told me she had only been doing dancing for about a year and she saw changes in her body that she had never had before. She has done yoga for 5 years. So she started at 62 years old to loose 30Lbs but she gained a body she never even dreamed of. How wonderful! She said her breasts have even firmed up. Come on, this is the key ladies. Find a strengthening workout that you love and work it, work it work it!

One of my new year goals is to lift these babies up, up, up. Rise my sweets! Look to the ski! I am doing push-ups, and chest pumping and anything I can to re-develop that muscle area. (And I am signed up for the next pole dance class) I wonder if there is Botox for breast? Hmmm? nah, I don’t like getting a needle in my arm, sure don’t want needles stuck into my tender ladies.

oh no, my mind just wondered to a tire pump, wouldn’t that be nice hey, just pump them up when they get a little flat. hahaha.

Well I’m just saying, gravity, she’s is a bitch. But so am I, I will not let you win!

Happy exercising. 🙂

The Monster You Made

When I awoke this morning, I had hoped to shed you.

I hoped the pain you stabbed me with, no longer bled.

Showered off your smell, and watched your touch go down the drain.

Your twisted truth of love  turned into nothing more than a burdensome trinket.

But here I stand strong, I’ve not turned to ash and blew away in the wind.

I’ll rise from this wreckage, stronger still, with higher walls.

I wear upon my chest the heavy medallion you gave me.

My heart blackened, for believing your lies.

My love turned to vengeance, jaded and cold.

My kiss, laced with venom.

My touch, lined with poison.

My stare enchants and encapsulates all who gaze, unable to resist me.

I smile as I drink thier life force, watching it slowly drain from their eyes.

Look what you created, in all your arrogance.

You made this, you pulled out all my innocence, and filled it’s hole with the venomous beast before you.

Is this what you had in mind? Have I made you proud? Am I beautiful to you now?

Come and gaze into my eyes, let me touch your flesh, let my beautiful lips kiss you.

Come closer, feel my breath, listen to my gentle whisper,  breath in my sweet potion.

Enter my chambers my love, let me look into your eyes…

 

By Tina Curtis

 

 

 

 

 

 

You Swerved

When we met, you loved my eyes, and wanted to kiss my lips, I let you kiss me and look into my soul.

You liked my body, I danced for you.

You couldn’t get my words out of your mind, I talked and laughed with you.

You wanted to touch me, I let you.

You wanted to know me, I said yes.

But then you swerved. Our love was about shine brighter than the sun. But you swerved.

You said you were sorry and can’t go on without me. I stayed.

You said you love my smell. I pulled you closer.

You said you admire my strength, I let you lean on me.

You said you wanted me, I said yes.

But then you swerved. Our love was about to shine brighter than the sun. But you swerved.

I felt the wind as you passed me by,  and now you are too far behind.

I will not go back, I will not wait, I will not swerve from my path.

You want me now? I’m too far ahead to look back.

You swerved.

 

Remember When.

Remembering a life long passed,

Played with dolls, ran through the tall grass, chased squirrels, climbed trees, and scraped my knees.

A first kiss so new and exciting.

Feels like an eternity has passed.

What a gift it would be to turn back time, to feel all those new and firsts. Remembering how easy life was, simple and free.

Love felt so good, it was easy, laughing, exploring, swimming and having fun.

How did all that turn into fear? Hate? Self doubt and regret?

Spending all the year in the sun, and making up a little song, walk around without a destination, smell the gravel road, laugh at nothing and everything and chase a dragonfly.

But now I lost another love, gained another broken heart, and cry myself to sleep.

Reality bites me with overdue bills, piles of chores, work, kids, bad breakups, burying memories and dreams of what I wanted to be.

Remember when we used to know everything, now I know nothing.

 

 

Mom

A bit ago I was missing my father, a lot. And just wanted to say hello to him, ask him some fatherly advice. Since he died I felt like sending it out into the universe how I miss him. So I thought with Thanks Giving coming up and with the whole idea that we are to give thanks on this day, I thought it only fitting to thank my mom.

It’s no secret that we are like fire and ice, we do not see eye to eye at all. As a parent now  I try to understand her. Why she did and said what she did. I think that mom was sad for a long time, since I was adopted I feel like she resented me. She was all done raising children in her mind and now there is another baby in the house. I see that my mom, I think, may have had some mental troubles as well. She did not do well in crowds, she gets flustered and panicked. She is also up and down in moods so perhaps Bipolar. Either way, I know my mother loved me and I love her in our own strange way.

How wonderful it is to have a mother teach you to make cookies and let you lick the spoon, or even better, the bowl. My favourite memory as a kid was when my mom would make jello, she would make a little extra so I could have a 1/2 cup of warm jello before it cooled into the firm wiggly squares. I loved to drink the jello liquid while it was still hot, I still do and so does my daughter.

I was a very active child, a tom boy by all true meaning. I love that mom would get mad at me every time I came home with another cut, another nail through my foot, another gash and needed stitches. The best was when I came home with most of my flesh torn off most of my entire body from a major wipe out. She would get almost sick with worry that it would leave a scar.

“I don’t know if your nails will grow back in, why can’t you act like a girl? Why can’t you play with dolls? Why do you insist on this wild behaviour? You are not a boy and boys don’t date girls that act like boys.” She would say.

Mother would try many things over the years, I know she would stress out about what to bring to the pot luck dinners, and worry about what the other women are wearing. I know my mom never seemed to fit in with the other ladies. I know she felt a little on the outside no matter how hard she tried to fit in, to be a part of the women in the church.  I felt her pain, her tears of not understanding why they all won’t include her or even be nicer to her. Mom tried very hard. When dad couldn’t work anymore, mom went back to school and became a  nurse. She was in her 50’s. She was always doing her best to do what she could for her community, her family, and her neighbours. I respect her very much for all her hard work.

My mom was still in the 1800’s with the idea of a perfect lady. Some of that I agree with, respecting a woman is a big one. But a woman is not needing to be absolutely dependant on anyone else to be considered a lady. And there starts some of our arguments. I want to trust a man, I want to have a husband. I just can’t settle for any man, even if that means I am single my entire life and die alone. I will not settle for just any man just because he’s a “good church member”. Or just because he is “her choice”. But I love her for worrying about me and telling me to “get a man”.

When I was raising my daughter I looked at my parents for “what not to do” and “what to copy”. I believe that once you are of an adult age, you choose what person you want to be and make those changes. I can’t blame parents for everything that is wrong with me, I am to blame as I have freedom to make changes. As a parent, I tried to give my daughter the good things I loved about my upbringing. Like Sunday dinners my dad would cook dinner for breakfast and breakfast for dinner, and mom would set the table and burn the toast. Like learning the value of hard work and the willingness to sacrifice yourself to help another person. Lick the cookie batter bowl. Playing games with my daughter. There are so many I can’t list them all, but as the years go by I learn to value what mom did all those years ago and even still. She is trying her best, to be her best parent she can be, best friend, best person she can be.

I love you for that mom, thank you for all you taught me, and thank you for all your love. It’s not easy to be a great parent, never knowing if the choice you made was right or if you picked the wrong battle.

Happy Thanks Giving to my mom and all you parents out there. Thank you for trying everyday to be a better parent and learning from your mistakes.

 

 

 

Woke up with icicles

Winter came in like a raging lion. It was so windy that icicles were forming faster than you can say icicles. In fear of my solar panel flying away I braved the spears and tucked the panel safely under the camper behind the tires. Yet I still had the thirty feet to brave to safety. I flipped up my hat and ran as fast as my chubby little legs would take me. oh I wish I put boots on, slippers are not a wise choice at this point.

“I’ll only be a few seconds,” famous last words as I am now frozen to the ground, its freezing at a nice and easy pace of .6 seconds. My car can reach 100km/h in a cool 2.5 minutes, yet the wind can stick me to the ground faster than I can blink. This is ridiculous, I am now in my stocking feet pulling my slippers off the ground and putting them back on my feet while being pelted by shards of ice that jack frost decided would be fun to throw at me.

What brave adventure would it be if there wasn’t at least one wipe out, oh no, I’ll make it two wipe outs and a bruised tailbone just for extra dramatic affect. I make it up those puny camper steps and threw the hobbit size door to safety. Once inside I discuss at length who’s great idea was it to make such small steps and narrow door, do they not know that people are entering these things?

We fire up the propane stove since we have no electricity, it took an hour to warm up the inside of the camper to 10 degree Celsius. OK, we are warm now. Time for bed, I can’t sleep since our camper is being pelted with spears and the wind is trying very hard to capsize our vessel.

I  managed to get a few hours of sleep under a pile of 10 blankets. I open my frosted eyes and exhale to see a cloud of breath. My daughter and I have breath races, who can make their breath go further. I don’t know who won, a tie I suppose. Time to get dressed and ready for the day. Like taking off a band aid we rip of the pile of blankets and race to get to the compost toilet. After I peeled my frozen but cheeks off the toilet seat I decided that it may be time to get dressed.

OOOOOHHH, I cried as I am now naked and my body is trying grow fur as fast as it can to get warm. I decided I am not shaving this winter, I will grow out what hair I can and help keep my pits and legs warm at least. It is a sacrifice I am willing to make.

So, this is what its like to winter camp in your camper. Well, the beginning of winter at least. I was told it was a three season camper, he lied!

 

 

Fear of Success

While I wallow in the trenches, this filthy rot smell, fills me with hate, self loathing. Watching endless hopes and dreams drifting down the fast moving sludgy river, never to be recaptured. Oh bitter tasting fear coats my tongue so all I can taste or smell is rot and sludge.

Look up, see the speck of light trying to peer through, sending hope, sparking dreams. Oh what a sweet life if would be to be success. Oh what a sweet life to be my own boss, to set my own wage, to build my own financial freedom. Freedom to travel, to meet interesting intelligent people. The water I think would be blue or maybe green and warm. Imagine what sweet taste that must me.

But what is stopping me? Oh ya, fear. What a vicious circle that has encapsulated me. How to break free? What do the rich know that I don’t? Does it really take a lot of money to  make money? While the wishful saps are stuck to the rotting tree, that speck of light mocks me. Torments me with the unknown. Round and round we go, deeper and deeper in this hole. How do I break free? How to climb the thorny walls to the light above.

Whey! what a dramatic picture of what I feel about success and fear. I feel like every time I get a bit closer, the chair is pulled away and I do not get a thrown in the castle of success. Why is it so scary to try? I mean really, I am afraid to fail, yet if I don’t try I fail.

Anyone else ever have to deal with fear of doing something? Start a business? Try something new? New move? Anything? How did you get over what you feared so that you could do what you know you want to do so?