SMILE VANCOUVER!: The Ego Blaster

A Self-Help Blog for Myself and You - Mission: Find more Reasons to Smile!

A SELF-HELP BLOG FOR MYSELF

This is a blog to help me attain my main goal: Happiness. A place to help us Vancouverites reach out to one another on a day to day basis. A how-to on simply smiling to spread more joy in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

I will engage, inspire, motivate, lament, reflect, vent, rage, ridicule, and share my personal stories (check out My evil twin Judy's on-line dating journal).

My Mission: Change the Face of Vancouver
Time Line: As Long as it Takes
Why?: To retain My Will to Live

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BECOME A PART OF THE SMILE MOVEMENT!

Sunday, August 15, 2010

The Ego Blaster - Now is the Time!

I am struggling with what to write. Not wanting to lose the momentum, I've got to write something. So, in reading a Kabbalistic interpretation of the month of Virgo - the fall season - the approaching Jewish New Year, I am... well, I'm still struggling. I don't want to write nothing - I mean I've got tons to say, but I also don't want to be all preachy, which I can be from time to time. So, how do I make this pop? How do I send words out there that resonate with you? Answer: Just do it.

The month of Virgo is one where you have to take an honest look at yourself from within - deep enough to be able to look out at your ego (your personality, which is changeable if you didn't know), and see how you really handled life this past year. Did you piss people off? Yes. Did you revert to old reactions and take many,many steps back in your growth? Yes. Were you unkind to yourself when you looked in the mirror or whenever you saw a happy couple and wondered if you were ever deserving of such love and comfort? Yes and yes. Now then, time to heal.

How's about we forgive ourselves for treating others like shit first. Don't let the ego interject with: But they totally deserved it - I had to lash out at them and let them know that they were assholes! You didn't. Or, but life is so tough for you. It's not tough for them, or them, or them. You deserve to drink a lot, or eat a half ton of Callebault chocolate, or read trashy novels about Gwenevere and her Tarzanesque young lover. Fiction. Let it all go. Breathe. Shed the old - let the leaves fall - cleanse. It is a time to make resolutions. Achievable ones.

So, now, on our road to happiness we must do some work. It can come if you are clueless and just happy with everything - but chances are that if you are you probably sport a helmet and suspenders (I know, I know - that side just has to come out - it's funny,right?). For the rest of us, it's work. See the real you - love and let go of the parts of yourself that you are not particularly proud of, and then abolish the ego and reach out to people who have slighted you and yes, forgive them too. Result: your heart will open and the light will fill it up - and guess what? You will feel much lighter, much happier, and will...yes, you guessed it: Smile, Smile, SMILE!

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Smile Vancouver! Happiness is a Choice.

A Brutal Dating Journal by My Evil Twin JUDY

November 24th, 2010

Okay, so I've been going hog crazy on this POF site - not proud to admit that I am seeking love in such a fashion, but given the circumstances - the guys don't approach you on the street, or in a restaurant deal - I have to resort to certain measures. Okay, have for more years that I'd like to mention, but somehow, I can't seem to commit to this site and to communicating with strangers.

Then I thought, "hey, you've been working diligently at sales, if you were to apply as much attention to closing a guy ( I mean, landing one, of course) then you'd be that much happier." So, I now have three phone numbers - strangers I'm supposed to call (my rules) and establish whether or not I connect with them, and it's darn right scary!

I could think, who knows? this guy could be the one THE ONE THE ONE but then again, I could be sorely disappointed. But then, it's a numbers game, like sales, so I gotta just keep on pushing and pushing beyond my comfort zone. So, this is what I will do. But anyways, a guy with no pic who said he was leaving the site send me this final blast - which, I can say, is so friggin' applicable that it hurts:

Sagittarius thrives on thrills – which is one of the reasons they’re so great at the dating game. Almost anyone would be wooed by their romantic overtures and endless conversation. So much so in fact, that you’ll probably miss the less-than-palatable truth that Sag is openly sharing – though possibly in subtext, as they’re not even always aware of it. This is not a sign that is keen to settle down.It’s not that the Archer is incapable of love; quite the contrary, in fact. The bottom line is that their passion is so fiery and fierce, it has a tendency to burn bright and then burn out, leaving the inadvertently brokenhearted in their wake as they ride off to search for something new to fan their flames. Still, while the fire is burning, it’s nothing short of intoxicating, which all too often can lead to a…love hangover.

Too much of a good thing can still be too much. And so it often is in life with Sag. Should you manage to tame one of these always-on-the-go adventure seekers, you may find yourself feeling spent… on a regular basis. After all, it’s hard to keep up with anyone who is always (and I do mean always) active. Whether it’s satisfying them in the bedroom (on the upside, they’ll be happy to satisfy you), or satisfying their thirst for endless entertainment, you will need to be eternally on your toes to keep them interested. And while this may make your feet hurt, it’s still not a guarantee that you’ll be successful. Meanwhile, you may think that it’s worth it, and you’re connecting courtesy of their proclivity toward engrossing philosophical conversation. Don’t be fooled. This characteristic belies a depth that isn’t always there with the Archer. Even when they are emotional explorers, the desire for self-understanding and connection pales in comparison to their need to trailblaze the outside world.

All of that considered, anyone would be hard-pressed to find a kinder or sweeter-natured soul than a Sagittarius for a partner. As their nickname suggests, the Archer is supremely skilled at marking their target, and in romantic relationships that translates as an insatiable need to hit their mate’s bull’s eye. These partner-pleasers live to make their lovers feel good in every way imaginable (after all, they see it as an adventure). So, if you can handle the nonstop action, maintain your own life so that you’re always bringing something new to your relationship, and keep your ears open for what Sag is telling you their needs are (this way, you can meet them or move on yourself). Odds are, this will be one of the most satisfying pairings you’ll encounter.

Love it!

September ’10

CHATTING. FULL STOP.

So, there’s this guy online who is totally cute- tons of energy in his pic – and reminds me of one of my first serious boyfriends. To this day I remember that feeling. Oh, the feeling. Anywhooooo… so fast forward thirty years and what you know – wup here he is! I am so old.

So here’s how the back and forth went. Me first, cause I initiated contact.

Didn't I get in touch with you a while ago? Or did I think about it and never did? Well, you would never know the thinking about it part but the "never did" you would.

Anywhooooo... just sending a note cause you have an engaging smile and look alive unlike the dude I chatted with yesterday for all of three minutes as he was not really all that energized (understatement).

Let me know your status,

JD

I think you are a very insightful woman to see that in me (beyond the smile of course) - yes I like to think I'm alive - made the choice to live following things that I am passionate a while back - its a journey I don't think many connect with but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I run around the world and share a running joke with my friends where I throw my arms up in the air and and share the energy I can feel and typically yell out "feel life" - they end up joining me eventually and typically love it.

do you like to "feel life"?

I'm glad you contacted me - simply because of what you felt.

Hi,

"Feel Life?" I certainly do. Yup. Was a drama teacher for ten years and felt life then, then moved to Florida to try my hand at business and felt the ocean, and now back in Van and starting anew -new sales position with great potential that doesn't compromise my integrity, and hanging with old friends, and taking the greatest doggie in the world to the Endowment lands daily, and doing yoga, and eating fricking well, and looking for a place to live and working on staying positive no matter what because it's all an illusion anyways.

Woo! Longwinded.

JD

Hey JD - congrats on the new gig! Did you do any ocean swimming this
summer? I connected with third beach this year and love it - hope the home
hunting is going well - which part of town are you looking at?

Thanks for the kind words. I'm grappling about the area to live in - I love Kits and the Endowment lands but also love Main street. So, I'm not sure. The place will reveal itself to me.

Where do you live?

hey - those are all good areas. I live in Yaletown - renting a place in a really cool
apartment building called "The Grace" that "revealed itself to me" when I started
looking around - and I'm not kidding - I love that you are connected with that level of
living....

hope you enjoy... sort of cool..

Sagittarius Woman

November 23 TO December 21

Slogan: I Seek, Therefore I am.

GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS:

The Sagittarius woman is an enterprising and resourceful individual who is
constantly searching in order to fulfil her dreams.

Sagittarius is the real adventurer of the zodiac and this girl is forever highly charged with creative fire, ever keen for excitement and the opportunities in order to widen her horizons.

This girl loves travel and will have a difficult time standing still. She can be
characterized as one who seeks a goal, reaches that goal and then, is off to seek another goal in life.

Perhaps the biggest problem in her life is the need to balance what is real with the ideal, and to endeavour to accept the current state of her life’s responsibilities in order that she may build a solid future.

Sagittarius is referred to the “philosopher of the heavens” and, in keeping, the Sagittarius is always very keen to expand her knowledge and can often be a perpetual student.

The Sagittarius woman’s basic interest is to learn and, in turn to teach what she knows to others. Problems can arise however because the Sagittarius girl can at times believe that she has mastered a skill before she has really done so. This can result in adverse situations through trying to teach on a subject of which she has insufficient knowledge.

The Sagittarius woman can be quite the visionary and is farsighted in her own way, however, she often tends to lack the patience to perfect herself in the practical world.

Irrespective, Sagittarius is the luckiest sign in the zodiac, and the Sagittarius girl will not only manage to survive but will more than likely prosper.

Wow - if there were a description of me - that would be it! Friggin' scary really but it wasn't like I didn't know that about myself especially the part about being willing to teach when I don't completely understand what it is that I'm teaching.

Interesting. What are you?

glad you enjoyed it....

I'm a Leo

Ummm…okay. So…uhm. Roaaaarrrrr. Nice chatting, I guess although it’s not really chatting – just some writing. So, nice writing to you. It was fun while it lasted but I don’t know how to play it. Is it me or should a guy, at this point, be asking me out or something? The guy from Loblaws moved fast on that front but this guy…don’t know.

Life happens and I continue to push to make it happen, keep it fresh, feel alive and this online chatting thang doesn’t seem to add to that. It is just something to do on a rainy day when you’ve done surfing everything else. Something tells me I should change my ‘tude about this internet dating thing. Perhaps really have the intention of meeting someone – seriously put it out there believing that my guy could be met in this way.

Okay, I’ll work on it. As it cools down I may have more and more opportunities to do so.

The Single Chronicles – August 27^th, 2010

My Evil Twin Judy emerged last night – guns a blazin’. Well, not really, but it sounds good. Anyways, there was this guy on that promise of fish in the sea dating site whose profile read pretty well. I mean, he sounded interesting. Take a look:

Have you ever wished to set sail salaciously upon an ocean of ether? Where dreams are not just moments of superfluous thought, but are quantified realities....

Our future is basically a blank page a place to chronicle our desires, endeavours, achievements, passions, loves and of course, our deficiencies because nobody is perfect. (despite what a testimonial may say, lol)

I'd like to find a like minded lady who is ready to share her blank page with me so together we can create our tale. The ink in your pen should be FULL of affection, love, witticism, maybe a little facetiousness , creativity and a positive outlook. You should write with flair and an artsy style. Our combined talents should pen a life of harmonious synchronicities , romance , play and of course hard work.

We should feel a connection so deep and singular that our tale becomes a soliloquy of seduction, an undying loyalty of love.

Okay, so, a tad better than “love walking on the beach, holding hands, and cuddling at home while watching a chick flick.” Way better. All the same, kind of sounds like a gamer. But, different enough to catch my interest unlike the old men who continuously try to contact me thinking that someone like me is a match for them – maybe they have cataracts or something. Anyways, I digress…

So, this guy Domino_Effect – his real name, contacts me and I ask for his number, and I try to call, and he texts me back, and I text: “what’s with guys today replying via text?” and he says (WARNING 1) that he used up his daytime minutes and would phone me after 5. Okayyyyyy… so he calls. Waiting in a doctor’s waiting room when all you have to read is outdated Macleans magazines would have been riveting in comparison to this conversation. It felt like the life was instantly sucked right out of me.

The man had nothing to say. Or, maybe it was me because I could have gone quiet when he mentioned that he works at Loblaws and has been doing so for the past twenty years! I tried to get him talking a bit but the man had a head full of lead…hello Mcfly! Anybody home? Yeesh!

So, there was no give and take. And I swear, even though there was no clock within the vicinity, I heard it ticking. Seriously, I could talk. But, this guy was well, evidently not a talker. Sitting at home after his Loblaws shift, on a Friday night, surfing the net (oh, shut up – this is different!). So sad.

Then he asks, in his compelling Canadiana hoserish way, “so, you wanna get a cup of coffee some time?” To which I respond, “Ummm… no, I don’t think so, I’m not really feeling it.” He says, “Oh, well, okay, good-“ “Bye” I interrupt and promptly hang up.

This got me in a bit of a funk. What is up? How does a profile that reads so well translate to what sounds like a shell of a human? Who stays at one job for twenty years? And at Loblaws! I’ve always made fun of that word – like a shmendrick husband whining, “honey, let’s go to Loblaaaaaws…” Gad!

Then I drove through East Hastings to get to my friend’s comedy gig only to witness the poor, sad walking dead, but I tell you, some of those street guys were probably a hell of a lot more interesting than one Domino_Effect.

Over and Out.

The Single Chronicles of Yore

So very sad to say, but this was written some seven years ago when I was more like My Evil Twin Judy than my current role as Smile Ambassador Jodi. Although, to be fair, Judy emerges her ugly, yet hilariously cutting face from time to time in my current life.

Judy did something cool - she took her online dating repartee and cut and pasted it for your reading pleasure. Did she go further? Of course she did! She evaluates each man and the date she had with him in a brutal fashion from the guy with the Frankinsteinesque head, to the lipless Sax player who left Judy, for the first time, tongue tied.

Note: These stories are all true.

Another day in this single world o’mine and the search for the purrrfect man continues. Clicking onto Lavalife – my internet dating site, running my fingers over the keyboard, gazing at the screen chockablock full of eligible men, I pray that my love will find his way onto this particular website and into my life. I remain in my late thirties. I remain single. Trying to remain ever optimistic I wake up full of hope and promise only to find at the end of the day that nothing really happened. “But, this time - ” I tell myself, “This time, I am going to lasso me a mate. Oh yes, today is the day!” I let out a battle cry (much to my neighbours’ chagrin) and grab my lasso.

I just wish I wasn’t always on the prowl – wish I could just live and be carefree Mary Tyler Moore style and maybe, just maybe could truly turn the world on with a smile. Oh, the power of it all. My balloon bursts in a shower of reality and I descend back to earth, in Vancouver, where I would and possibly could charm the pants off of anyone if they’d only just look at me dammit! A lot of the time it feels as though I am invisible in this darn town and sitting here typing away on Lavalife I kind of am invisible. This town is reputedly known for its singles and has the most Lavalife activity in Canada.

What’s with these guys? I’m doing my part, why can’t they do theirs? When I walk around the streets I apply the requisite amount of lip gloss, wear tight, cool clothing that is casual yet sexy, look around ready to nod and smile, but the male species does not bite – not so much as a glance is cast my way but when it does and I look the eyes quickly avert themselves so as not to be caught looking. Ooooo! So frustrating! So, I am resigned to getting them to look on this website where nobody can actually see me so I am oh so safe to cast my bate in any way I wish, and I do.

Sitting in my kitchen, wine glass in hand, I communicate with wanton abandon to these virtual strangers. I am safe. So comfortable in fact that I wind up entertaining myself. Like, for example, playing the teacher (which is what I am by day) and getting peeved when one guy misspells bye for buy. What a turn off! So, being the altruistic person I am I offered him a little refresher course in spelling. Pretty sexy. I didn’t hear from him again. Good buy loser!! So, there are a couple of guys I may be interested in - especially this one guy with the profile name NONERDHERE who seems funny – in print, and cute in picture. He describes himself as having “boyish good looks” and that gets me – I do so love a boy/man. He wrote to me and actually made me laugh (check mark) saying he was a hand model. I responded and queried his occupation to which he replied:

…had to quit the hand model gig - I've found I like getting my hands dirty, and all that soap is murder on the skin.

I can't remember what I wrote at j date. Probably not much info there. I am an open book, might be a mystery though.

Questions?

Oh, by the way, what are you all about?

Game on. I write:

I am all about me. I exercise, use face cream, buy perfumes that make me feel real good, try to love my job (teacher) and when I don't I take a "mental health" day off, bike - love the Endowment lands, walk on the beach whilst pondering life and the splendor of it (or not - depending on where I'm at), cook elaborate feasts and love it, drink wine to calm the nerves, do not smoke cigarettes (proudly - I was a light smoker but stopped 3 months ago), go for acupuncture, laugh real loud daily, write about life and the absurdities of it, make others laugh daily, diss people and men with the requisite goatee, baseball hat, tight jeans and white runners - yikes, dance, listen to fabulously inspirational and current but not mainstream music, and try to do the best I can do.

You?

Jodi

I am noticing how cocky I am beginning to sound. With each e-mail I send I become more specific about what it is that I want and what it is about the men in Vancouver that I have grown very, very weary of. Miracles – he is not scared off. The animals are circling each other in a dance known as the “are you the one for me?” dance.

Dear Jodi,

I would have gotten back to you earlier but had to shave the goatee and buy some new runners.

Wow - a school teacher - takes me back some crushes I had when I was 15.

Me? I am firstly a Dad of a 7 year old boy - Joshua- ( who has decided he wants a name change to Taz) and secondly a funloving hockeyplaying guy with a creative mind that continues to evolve. I like bad jokes, puns, and interesting use of words and language. I live near the Seymour river in the cool side of North Vancouver and love being a neighbour to the forest. I rode my mountain bike two days ago for the first time in months and fell over the handlebars and into the bush within the first minute. My married life took a wrong turn 6 years ago when my ex had an affair with her best friend and declared her love for women. We are still close friends and co-parent well which has taken a toll on me emotionally. - The baggage is still heavy at times, but I am pretty strong now after carrying it around for all these years. I am an excellent cook but can't use recipes. I spend a fair bit of time on Galiano Island when I can, often with family, and not often enough with friends. I used to be a floor trader at the stock exchange and traded in those wild days for an entrepreneurial spot running my own biz. Currently that involves heading up a gold mining and exploration company in Finland. Have been to Finland too many times recently. Long way, - cold, bad food, and although they are friendly, the women are quite unattractive to me. babble babble babble ...

I do find this medium a tad misleading at times - hard for both sides to get the real picture without at least a fun dinner together!

I'm game if you are.

Yikes! Waitatellmeyourlifestory! I hope he’s not looking for a therapist.

Aside: Someone from the dating site just instant messaged me. I had a look at his profile, which is “doglover” and think I’ll pass. As one of my pet peeves (of which I have many) is people who think they helped spawn their animals. They say, “daddy’s home, don’t worry Sparky, daddy’s here. Oh, he gets so crazy when I’m not around. You love your daddy. Don’t you Sparky? Don’t you boy?” They half expect a response and as far as I know only one woman got her crazy little freakazoid dog to actually talk back. I remember the footage, this little dog croaked out “mummy” or something followed by an “I love you.” Sick. Do we really need our animals to speak? Isn’t there enough idle chat in this world? Must our animals add to the banality of it all? I digress. (and, for the record - this past entry goes to show you that you must never, ever judge someone's behavior, like say, their love for their dogs like I love my Bogart, until you've been there. Alright, carry on...)

Back to Todd. So, he actually wants to go for dinner. A blind dinner date is doable but challenging. If you are not into the person you pretend you are interested while the truth is that you are much more interested in the food and can barely hold yourself back from shoveling it in like the starved animal you are. But, you are cordial and all of that and at some point you begin to wonder if he’ll pick up the tab. If it’s anything like my last date – the cheap lawyer, then we’ll be going Dutch. My two least favorite words to hear on a date: going and Dutch. Anywho, he should pay cause he’s the one insisting on going for dinner.

I sit here a few days later making plans online. I am seriously booking up (I’m going with the old eggs in one basket adage and casting out my bate willy-nilly). I feel like I’m on Three’s Company with the amount of dates I have. On that show it was a serious conundrum if you didn’t have a date on a Saturday night. So, feeling all retro, I’m making all of these dates – the dinner one with Todd, then a coffee or something with this guy Harry (another Harry!!! I can hardly believe it. Little does he know how many points he has against him before even getting out of the gate), a four o’clock coffee with this other guy – Dave, or something, and a beer later on with the muscled sax player called Ross who seems cool, and a dinner at Pastis (very high end – so much so that this school teacher has never been there) with Uncle Tim (the oldest of the bunch. What a week! Whew! I’m tired even thinking about it. I hope I can pull myself together for that many outings. Plus, I hope that I remember their names and don’t screw up and call Harry Todd or Ross Uncle Tim. Off to school now, which has become secondary to my dating plans. Lesson plans – ha! I have other, more important, plans to make. And I am! Wow! Suddenly with a little ingenuity and a computer I have a social life! Alakazam! Oh Mighty Isis Isis Isis Isis…

Saturday morning date breakdown: I went out on my date with Todd last night. When I arrived, all nervous but keeping my cool, I got a shock – Todd is cute! I hugged him. Something happened and I just grabbed him and pressed my body up against him. I mean I was so relieved. He received with a pleasantly surprised look on his face. We had a cordial time of it all – talked, and pontificated and agreed on stuff. It was nice. I did something that I am not very proud of though: I got up to go to the washroom when the bill came. I know. It’s the oldest trick in the book. And then I had the audacity to feign surprise when I returned to the table, “Oh, you paid!!! Can I contribute?” To which he answered, as he really only could, “no, it’s on me.” I showered him with gratitude but not with kisses. The kisses will have to wait. When I hugged him goodbye I noticed how delightfully tall he was and broad, too! He didn’t seem that tall sitting – which is how I first met him (although he did tentatively rise for my surprise of a hug).

Once outside, before saying goodbye, I borrowed his cell to phone my friends who were out partying and with whom I felt the need to hook up with. It was a tough day at work –a kid told me he wants to get me fired (of course, he can’t and he’ll be thrown out before that happens but it just hurt). So, I needed to vent with friends and called them. It was so obvious that I was ending our date to go party with my pals. But, oh well, a girls got to do what a girls…

I awoke to this e-mail with the subject being “Date Review”:

Hi Jodi,

Thanks for coming out tonight. I enjoyed our conversation, you seem pretty cool. I would like your phone number. You took off pretty quick before I got a chance to suggest a walk at the beach. Oh well, it was cold anyway. I hope I didn't freak you out with the nipple clamp talk!

Todd

Nice. The nipple clamp talk was actually funny and surprising, as Todd seemed too straight laced to be baring that on the first date. I guess he is cause he felt the need to apologize. The story is that he met someone on the Internet and started dating her. After things progressed for a while she began to show her true kinky colors. Out come the nipple clamps and cuffs and Todd was thrown. He played along I guess but then told her that maybe she could find some other guy to inflict pain on. Great dinner talk. I actually enjoyed it – at least it’s different. Now, I’m off to my spinning class and then I’m meeting this Harry character for a quick (and hopefully free) coffee.

Post gym and day date.

This guy Harry was just like the other Harry –his current look did not quite match his Profile picture on line. There is something to be said for the long shot in photography. Man, it sure can be deceiving. Sometimes I think that we merely see what we want to see. Well I sure didn’t want to see what was waiting for me outside of the coffee shop door (which was under construction which he laughingly stated may be a sign. I internally concurred but didn’t say as much – just giggled). We walked to another coffee shop and here’s where this Harry beat the other Harry – he paid for my latte.

I don’t mean to be well… for lack of a better word, mean, but this guy’s head was misshapen – kind of Frankensteinesque, if you will. I’m sorry, but imagine the shock I’d experience in bed awakening to turn to see a head of that shape and proportion on the pillow next to me (he doesn’t even need a pillow!). Plus, while he was nice he spoke real slow and kept “umming” a lot. It just kind of sent me into mind drifts where I was concocting my grocery list and other such minutia. I was already fast-forwarding to my date later on tonight. Tonight is the sax player and I spoke with him before meeting Frankenstein and he sounded tres cool. He’s tough which is a turn on for I think I need a man who can handle me - my bluntness, my energy, my irreverence, my my my…. Soon after I bade a hasty goodbye to Harry and ran off relived to be alone once again (sometimes the best part of these dates is saying goodbye only to finally be alone again but happy and relieved). To cleanse my mind of Harry’s crazy shaped head I simply had to do some shopping. And what better to ail a broken spirit than new lip-gloss? So, I went to Shopper’s and purchased a thirty-dollar lipstick by ohhh, let’s see, one Christian Dior. Not too shabby. All better now. A thirty-dollar band-aid. Hey, if it works…

Post evening date.

Well, sometimes a few seconds are all it takes to know. Within two seconds I knew that this Ross guy would be trouble. That this guy was not the guy I had been dreaming up in my head all day. What a waste of brain space. I show up at the bar and Ross, clad in winter sweater and average shoes is waiting for me. I thought he’d be sexy. But the pheronomones were not igniting – this hunter is instantly disappointed by her prey. I had this overwhelming urge to ask him, “Hey, um, no offence but…where are your lips?” I mean, I just thought that lips would be a necessary component for a sax player. But, that wasn’t the worst of it. This guy did not agree with anything I said. I mentioned how I usually and quite miraculously find parking but how tonight was a tad difficult. And he’s responding with a lift of the eyebrows, “Well, it is Saturday, you know?” I tell him that I never stress when looking for parking and he tells me (in an adamant and mean kind of way) that he doesn’t know one person, not one single person, who doesn’t stress when circling around spot searching. “But, I don’t.” I tell him. He doesn’t believe me.

Mistake.

‘This hunt is called off,’ I tell myself. The capper was when he told me that he was a longshoreman by day (a fact that he had conveniently left out of his Lavalife profile). Wonderful. A longshoreman. Oh joy. As it turns out he is much more of a longshoreman than a sax player - real uncultured (should have known – the spelling… the spelling). In mind, body, and spirit (not that I’m in the habit of hanging with longshoremen) this guy works the docks. There really wasn’t much to say once that fact dropped out of his lipless mouth and the fact that this guy was a real asshole.

I suck back my drink and then it happens - the dreaded silence. One guy I dated couldn’t imagine me ever having a lack of things to say. Well, no intense imagination needed here. I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything for fear that Ross would negate my opinion. When I did utter how the area we were in was a little sketchy he was truly perplexed, “sketchy? This isn’t sketchy!” I guess he missed the alley with the needles, junkies, and drunks on the way to the bar (like most guys in Vancouver he too never turns his head to take a gander at what’s around him!). So, we sat silently waiting for the bill while my eyes circled the room longingly – oh if I could have only clicked my heels three times to get me home. As the waitress brought the bill I was pulling on my jacket and hesitantly pulling out cash even though he was holding a twenty. The lip eunuch did not offer to pay for me. I pay and as I stand up and he wistfully offers, “I guess we didn’t hit it off?” I say, “Uh no… guess not. Good luck.” The door opens and I am free again – hot exhaust and street meat never smelled so good. Stopping by the corner store for a Haagen-Dazs bar puts a bounce in my step– a girl’s gotta do….

Weekend date recap: Good Friday. Bad Saturday. Oh, the yin and yang of it all. Time for a much needed break from this quest. Hunting is tiring – bating with witty writing, planning and scheduling, winning over with charming repartee, and leaving the prey curbside whilst running to safety.

I’m off to visit my family in Montreal and am anxiously awaiting the tactless ways of the people there. Inevitably someone, somewhere, will query: “Sooooooooo, how come you haven’t met anybody, yet?” Time to teach a lesson (on and off the job – always a teacher). I’m simply not going to take it anymore. This time I will speak my mind. This time I won’t hold my mouth.

I hear it going something like this:

“ How come I haven’t met anyone yet? Well, let’s see…I guess I’m just off. Haven’t you ever been off? Haven’t you ever been driven nuts by the fact that life is taking you in a direction that you would never have predicted? And that maybe that is because there is something deeply, and significantly wrong with you? Haven’t you ever waited for something for so long that you just couldn’t take it anymore? And then people kept on asking you why you didn’t have what they had? And that what they were really asking you was what was wrong with you? And you couldn’t answer that because you were still trying to figure it out yourself. Haven’t you ever felt like a big failure when faced with a highly invasive question by someone that you used to kind of know but don’t know at all anymore? Probably not. Cause your life is probably perfect – or at least you’d like to think it is. Or maybe you are of the infamous one of us tribe, where you wish everyone to be married, like you, so that we could all share in the hell that you face daily being with someone who no longer turns you on both in and out of the bedroom. So, why haven’t I met anyone? How the fuck would I know?”

Shocked silence. Then quickly, “- and how are you?”

I leave my place, post salon visit, to go get a few last things for my trip and come to the realization that while I crave attention I may not know what I want when it comes down to it. So, I’m walking to the store proudly sporting my freshly dyed, blond stripes over chocolate brown, hair. Cockiness is my attitude of choice as I step forward, trying to cross foot over foot so as to accentuate the sway of my hips, with my hands in my pockets, model style. I pass a man in a truck and make eye contact. Now, one must realize that usually upon the eyes meeting the other party swiftly shifts his gaze. Not this time. This time this ruddy complexioned pot bellied, mustache wearing, Farrah Fawcettesque grey-blonde haired man kept his beady eyes locked on mine. Time clicked into slow motion as I passed and he nodded his approval. I walked into the convenience store feeling like I needed a shower – and quick! Finally I got what I thought I wanted – a look. But, this man’s look did not make me feel sexy. His eyes did not render me visible - just dirty.

I’m thinking the male gaze is not what I’m really longing for after all. Perhaps I just want to be seen and not ogled. I just want to love my invisibility. Being seen, simply seen, is what I’m after. There’s a fine line between being seen and being mentally undressed. Vancouver is a small town experiencing growing pains – fraught with adolescent awkwardness and angst. When I first moved here from Montreal at the not quite ripe age of twenty-three it was just outgrowing its hippie roots. People wore tie-dyed shirts and smelled. It was charming. On the street, smiles and hellos were offered without hesitation. I was dripping with good will. It’s not too hard when people are feeding it to you in well-rolled jointfulls. But things are different now.

Over the past fifteen years the population in Vancouver has grown and the town has outgrown its Mr. Rogers roots. Now, when we pass each other in the street the pressure is on – do we look at the other person? And once we do, aren’t we then obliged to say a perfunctory “hello”? We don’t know how to do it so we take the low road and opt out of the whole damn charade by averting our eyes completely. On the streets the hunt is off.

I’d like to spread the word that there are more options for us in this growing big town. None of us wants to be invisible yet we are too busy to say hello to every Tom, Dick and Cheech we pass in the street. I think I have a solution. Maybe, and call me crazy, we can simply look at one another – no pressure, no big meaning. We can connect eyes and be done with it. A wordless way of saying “hey, you exist and I see you.” No emotion or “have tos” need be placed on this look. We can simply say to ourselves “hey, looky here – a fellow human,” as we acknowledge one another whilst ambling down the street. Then nobody would be ignored any longer. It’s worth a try.

Last week I tried something new – it’s called Brunch. Why I hadn’t realized the dating potential brunch can offer is a mystery to me. But there I was eating my pancakes with fruit and bacon and what do ya know – a table full of eligible men. We lured them to us with smiles, nods, beckoning waves and fake laughter. It worked. A foursome of well dressed (translation: good shoes) single Jewish men approached our table. They sat and lo and behold: they were hilariously funny. We had this absurdly comical back and forth that brought tears to my eyes as I laughed with caffeinated abandon. Last night Jen called to tell me that one of the gentlemen, the Jewish doctor no less, wants my number. A Jewish doctor? It’s amazing what a couple of select words can do for a woman’s morale. Hope is restored.

Let it be known: if I wind up with a Jewish doctor all of the “your too picky” and “what are you waiting for?” prodding will dissolve like fine lines after a botox injection. It will be my day of restitution. In a flash of light all will understand my long, long, oh so long, wait. But I know as I write this that talk like this is very very dangerous.

A general rule of the singleton is to never, ever jinx a prospective date – or boyfriend. We don’t want to jump the gun by, oh let’s say, picking a wedding date or hall before we’ve actually gone on the first date. Ad I learned from my last dating catastrophe (the saxhole, as I now call him)I shouldn’t share my excitement with friends until I know for sure that I’m interested. So, I hope hope hope that I’ll somehow keep my mouth shut when one of my sisters’ budinsky friends asks, “soooooooooo…. Anyone interesting in your life?!” I will clamp my mouth shut to hold in the “I’m dating a Jewish doctor” nugget. I vow to silence myself and now it’s time to flag down the flight attendant for another pack of Peak freans. Hey, if it’s free I’m taking.

SMILE VANCOUVER!

A Self-Help Blog for Myself and You - Mission: Find more Reasons to Smile!

Sunday, August 15, 2010

The Ego Blaster - Now is the Time!

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