Grieving before the end

It's funny the things that happen in your life when you face the impending death of a close family member…and the things you're suddenly unwilling to put up with, or oddly enough, will tolerate that you wouldn't in the past.

My mother was diagnosed with gallbladder cancer in January 2016, but had successful surgeries, a full spring and summer of chemotherapy, and was told August 2016 that she was in the clear. We were thrilled! Throughout the fall she continued to be tired, and never really got her energy levels back up, but it made sense given the chemo and surgeries/recovery times throughout the year. Unfortunately, at her 6 month CT follow up, they determined that the cancer was back, and more aggressive than previously. What came after that was jaundice, liver issues, stents, tubes, round after round of antibiotics and hospital admittances, finally rounded out with a terminal diagnosis on May 17, 2017.

There's not much to be said for the wave that sweeps over you when that final diagnosis is delivered. Despite any optimism, any denial you may have allowed yourself, the revelation that there is nothing more they can do to halt the spread of the cancer is something world-shattering and final.

My mother and I have had a difficult relationship at the best of times, and we've always had trouble communicating effectively. Two dominant personalities, in a family full of upheaval, struggling to be right – and it doesn't help that I am so very much like her. We clash frequently and furiously. There have been numerous occasions in my adult life that I've questioned whether she even likes me, and whether I like her (like and love do not have to exist together, let me tell you…family is a special sort of insanity). There were times when I simply could not comprehend her motivations or decisions on things in our lives, and she's had the same issues understanding me I know. Even when we've had lulls where we got along, there has always been tension and almost a palpable sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop; an acknowledgement that the truce is temporary, that we know around the corner another battle is brewing. All that aside, she's my mom, and now I'm facing life without her far FAR too early in my life.

It doesn't matter how old you are, when there are things in life you haven't gotten to experience yet, you think of your mother as part of those future experiences or plans. Every time I think of my future now, I see a hole, and feel the loss already. I know she's envisioned things that she now won't see in my life as well. She's gotten to see the engagement of 2 sons, and the birth of 2 grandchildren, which is wonderful…but it's never enough. She'll never see me get married, she'll never see me have my own children, help me decorate a new home, any of those things that we've talked about in the past.

I always thought by 35 I'd be married, and hopefully well on my way to starting my own family. Here I am a month away from that milestone, and instead, I'm trying to determine how to tackle things like going through my mother's sewing supplies and thinking about china figurines and cabinets and what should go to people. I still haven't met the man who'll walk through life with me, and stand by in times like these; instead I have a wonderful group of friends who call me to check up on things, and let me know they love me daily. The outpouring of love and support from people in my life has been tremendous. It doesn't matter how long I've known people, a month, a year, decades – for the most part, everyone has gone out of their way to show support and send good thoughts our way.

Then there's the minority, the few who are so entrenched in their own world and the belief that they are the center of everyone's lives, the ones who can't see past their own pain, ignorance, or internal narrative. People in this category relate to me the horrors of watching their own parent/friend/relative die, all in vivid detail, the entire time missing the cues that this isn't something I need to hear. And at the same time, it's almost a relief not to have them ask how I am, and ask the details of what my family and I are grappling with. There's almost a grisly fascination for people to hear every aspect, to dig into the meat of things...and an incomprehension of the idea that it's not something I want to talk about constantly. It's one thing for friends I trust who care about me to inquire, but people I scarcely know who find out something is going on, seem to not realize that there are boundaries, that I'm already grieving someone who hasn't gone yet. People seem to forget that your suffering isn't public property, that just because you're at the office, or out in public and appear ok on the surface, doesn't mean you actually are. There's also the people who flat out don't understand that at a time like this, I might not ask for help even if I need it, that when someone is a part of my life they need to actually be a part of it, or sod off. I've ended a decades long friendship in the last 2 months because I'm no longer willing to chase people down. If I'm important enough to be in your life, I deserve more than the occasional Facebook check in during the darkest days I've experienced. I realize that it's a confusing back and forth, but anyone who's ever gone through something like this will understand…I'm not necessarily in control of how I feel or what I need from people right now, despite my best efforts to maintain my precious balance and control. In line with that, despite wishing it would all go away, sometimes I desperately need to talk it all out (that's less common mind you), and end up going down the rabbit hole a bit. The key here is those who haven't walked this road get it anyways, and all of my friends quite frankly rock for putting up with me these days. Friends truly are the family you get to choose.

A lot of the time I just want to pretend that life is normal and my next worry is what to wear for my birthday party next month. That the big concern is learning the techniques for my new hobbies, like the best way to hold a pitchfork, or how to throw a stone. I want things to be simple and they're not. I want to be planning a fishing trip, instead of reading up on the hospice that my mother will spend her last days in.

I'm sorry for the times that I've been flakey or distant, bitchy or aggressive, any of the less than desirable traits I've exhibited in the last couple of months…the last couple of weeks in particular. Know that I love you all and appreciate what you bring into my life and the care and support that I've received, and continue to receive.

I know that this is going to pass, and it's just another phase in life…I'm just not sure what the other end is going to look like…

The tale of the disappearing mantis...

I've been absent from my blog for far too long…things have just been that crazy so far this year. I cannot believe it's already the 2^nd week of March – how the hell did that happen???

The last time I wrote, I was in the middle of trying to determine what was happening with the guy I'd started seeing at the beginning of December. My last post focused on the pitfalls of communicating with other people, particularly when launching a romantic relationship. It didn't end well…in fact,  it didn't really end per say – I got ghosted.

A friend dubbed this one the "Sailing Mantis", which is what we'll stick with as far as a name goes. It fits, because he was 6'6", very thin, and owns 2 sailboats which he races competitively. He's also older (mid-40's), French (not Quebecois), and one of the most frustrating people I've tried to interact with in a very long time.  I know I tend to ramble and write long detailed posts, but I'll try to condense the 6 weeks of bs into a shorter write up than usual. HA.

The Mantis had started contact with me initially back in 2012, right after my return from Ireland. I don't remember my reasons now, but despite him being attractive, sweet, funny and charming, for reasons known only to my 29 year old self, I made excuses when he asked me out and then let it dwindle away. In essence, I ghosted on him. Now, in fairness, we hadn't met in person, that being said I accept that I should have been honest with him if I didn't want to meet him instead of just disappearing on him. More on that later.

Fast forward to the end of November 2016 – The Mantis messaged me on POF again, and we started communicating constantly. Things were looking good, so we made our first date. I couldn't remember why I didn't want to see him in 2012, so I assumed it was a nothing issue (I'm famous for those…) and moved forward with plans for coffee at Chapters Metrotown. I started to feel off about it within a day of the plans, and worse as the moment approached…suddenly he was a little more difficult to get ahold of on Facebook Messenger  (our only mode of communication after POF – he never did give me his cell number), and he asked if we could push it to another time, etcetera, etcetera. I went along with it, feeling annoyed, but figured that it would work out in the long run. He showed up a few minutes late, but was nice and chatty, bought our coffees, and then we started walking the mall. We walked and talked for over an hour, and it wasn't the most pleasant coffee date I've ever had I must say, but I was determined to make the best of it. He talked about his boats a lot, and his drinking prowess, and his work as a management consultant, and about his family who are all back in Europe, who he's estranged from. There wasn't a lot of give and take and I honestly didn't think I wanted to see him again. He insisted on walking me to my car, where he gave me a hug and declared "You're very good looking, but I'm sure you know that". I wasn't sure how to respond, it didn't feel like a natural compliment…things got awkward and we joked about getting together again and I left it at that.

We continued talking and the following week we saw each other briefly while I was shopping in the vicinity of his office after work one evening. He went out of his way to come and meet me, and we sat in his car and talked for 15 minutes or so. It was strange, the conversation didn't flow and again he talked about his life and goings on, but showed little to no interest in me or mine. He also informed me at one point that in addition to being very sarcastic, he has no empathy within him. He said "I looked once, it's not there. If you want sympathy, get it from your friends or family, because you won't get it from me" – I didn't know what to do with that. I made my excuses and left, but he demanded a hug again, so I complied and exited the vehicle…feeling a little bit confused.

After that, communication continued on a regular basis, but I was definitely more interested and driving it I now realize. However, we made plans for him to come over the following weekend, between work and an event he had to attend. He was always flitting off to meetings or gatherings, and made it seem that I was fortunate to get any time at all; not a feeling I enjoyed.

When he came over the following Friday, we sat and had tea and chatted, and eventually he made a move on me. We ended up making out for quite a while…but again…it was strange, and I didn't really know what to think when all was said and done. Side note: I don't get it when people rave about how sexy the French accent is…it just does nothing for me LOL. The Mantis portion of the name came from my description of the make out session to a guy friend...I was trying to describe just how uncomfortable it had been, given his height...for him to loom over me on my love seat, with his extremely long legs, one folded up (uncomfortably I'm sure) and the other jutting out across the room...and the only thing I could liken it to was having a praying mantis on top of me. 

At any rate, over the course of the evening he had told me he was leaving Boxing Day (3 days later) headed to Montreal for New Years, and would be back mid-January. At the time, I figured we'd pick up with more dates and getting to know one another better; despite my initial misgivings, I was getting attached, as we women are wont to do.

We continued talking the entire time he was away but things felt very different, and then the tone of our chats turned very sexual. As in the only thing he really wanted to talk about what his plans for when we'd be alone together, and all sorts of fantasies and demands. He was very convincing, and I enjoyed the flirtation and how it made me feel and I allowed myself to get swept up in all of it…but then he didn't come back when he said he would. When my cat died and I was going through that awful experience, his responses were cold and unemotional, and he seemed to have forgotten about it by the next day. He had been completely serious when telling me he was unsympathetic – I was floored. When you're starting to see someone, you usually put the best you forward, try to make a good impression and solidify your image as someone they should want around – right?? It was like he was trying to win me over by being a jerk.

After this, apparently he extended his trip a week – but I only found out when I asked when he'd gotten home, and was told he was still in Montreal. Once he did get back he told me he was sick and to give him a couple of days, so I did, and asked if I could do anything to help…he managed to work sex into the conversation again, so I just let it go. When the weekend came I said I hoped we'd be able to get together if he was feeling better – he told me he would be racing his boat all weekend. So I asked (peevishly), "When do I get to see this boat that's so wonderful?" He said "When it's warmer probably" – this was Friday January 13^th, and the last night I heard from him.

After that exchange – there were a few other one line messages that night before silence descended – I decided to let him message me. After all, I'd been making it far too easy for him, I'd been doing the chasing, and we all know that men love the chase…at least that's what we're told.

Days went by with no messages…then weeks. Nothing.

I went from hearing from him constantly and being told "I'm going to dominate you", and told how sexy and beautiful I was every day, to nothing. Complete radio silence.

I've gone over the 6 weeks in my mind over and over, and talked about it with friends until they know the tale as well as I do…and none of us can figure out what happened. Was it some bizarre ego stroke for him? I've never encountered something like this where a guy was gung ho for sex but it never materialized…and he disappeared. Having dealt with the proverbial "hit it and quit it" situation in the past, that would have made sense…but this prolonged digital seduction and then nothing? Very perplexing.

So, I deleted him from my Facebook, took him off my favourites list on POF and have moved on…though it still niggles at me…and I wonder – was this some elaborate way of getting back at me for not dating him 5 years ago? I know, how narcissistic of me!!! But…could it be that? Is he that petty? Or was he just that big a jerk that my time and feelings didn't count in his super busy world? I will never know…but it solidified for me that I will NEVER ghost on someone again, and that being up front and honest in your communication is the best way to be.

Must remember to apply that one more…

So much for a shorter post haha

Communication and Dating: The Personal, The Textual, The Digital...

Why is it that you can have such utterly different views on how interpersonal encounters go?

Why do we end up with such vastly disparate understandings of what's going on during communication with another human being?

How is it that words can mean completely different things to people who are speaking the same language, written in black and white?

It is hard enough trying to have conversations with people you know well and feel you understand, but when you're trying to get to know someone, and you haven't truly learned their communication style or how they go about their interactions, it's a potential minefield of hurt feelings, misunderstandings and plain old frustration.

This is what I'm finding with dating now. At first it was just the bad dates (if you've forgotten, look back at previous posts LOL), and creeps who I wouldn't give the time of day in future. Now however, it's a matter of meeting nice, normal, successful, intelligent men and then having to navigate through the second date…and occasionally the third date. Once you've done that and enjoy one another's company how much do you communicate or don't, and what you do communicate, and when do you ask if they're seeing anyone else?

When do you feel comfortable with intimacy, whether it's been a topic or not? Just because you've made out and find each other attractive isn't enough of a reason to jump into bed – helluva motivation though! How do you decide to take a leap and chance that maybe they're just looking for a fling despite what you think they know – because have you actually told them your expectations, or did you assume they took your initial flirtations and statement of intent on some online site as real??

And then, what happens if you compound all of that normal, everyday romantic/dating/male-female whatever interplay with something traumatic or upsetting in the life of one of the parties, what do you do then? As the one dealing with it do you cut your losses when it's clear the other half isn't up to the situation or just doesn't engage on the level you need/want/expect? Do you wait it out and acknowledge that it's likely YOU that has to work through this and that you shouldn't let it impact what's going on with the other? As the other, what do you do with this information? Do you attempt to be supportive and see if something more comes of the burgeoning interaction/relationship-ish, or do you cut your losses because this is new and maybe this isn't what you really wanted to deal with at this point?

There are so many things that go on in the startup of any human relationship, be it platonic, professional, familial (new sibling etc), or romantic. It's impossible to know just what's going on in another person's head, even if they're telling you, because maybe it's only part of their truth – or none of it. Are we too scared of failure to be vulnerable and real? Is the instant gratification of texting and instant messaging destroying the mystery and excitement of new relationships and getting to know one another?

And on the topic of failure, texting, mystery and excitement - what about ghosting? I have a feeling I'll be writing about that sometime soon...just a gut feeling. It's so bizarre that it's become prevalent enough in our society to have an actual term associated with it...this modern dating trend towards disrespect of people's time and effort and emotions.

It's a wonder anyone gets together and procreates intentionally any more considering the hassles…

Hello 2017

Well, 2017 has started off with the same sort of tone as 2016.

While 2016 started with my mom getting a cancer diagnosis, at least it was treatable and she's come through everything wonderfully and the 2nd half of the year was great.


2017 was rung in with good friends and fun times initially, but January 2nd I had to make a very hard decision, as my 13 1/2 year old cat Saoirse, who I'd had since she was 9 weeks old, suddenly became gravely ill. I said goodbye to her early afternoon on the 2nd. I know I made the right choice, but it's still hard to handle at the moment - I just have to feel it for now and know that the pain will fade with time.

December however was chaotic, what with the start of our epic winter here in BC, the likes of which we haven't seen in a long time! Add to that the insanity of closing up files at work for the holiday closures, Christmas preparation, and just trying to stay on top of things at home, and there was hardly time to relax! :o

Dating has been more sporadic in the last month or so...I met someone new who intrigues me and I enjoy spending time with, but you never know where things are going to go early on right? We may be on totally different pages...who knows.

I think I'll be working on taking some classes in 2017, maybe getting out and expanding my circle (I know, Ms. Introvert trying to meet new people...HA!). I'm also going to try new things...push out of my comfort zone a little...not sure how I'll do that, but I'm sure I'll start small. Maybe I should get over my issues with boats this year. Or take up archery. Who knows haha

Here's to a great 2017 everyone!

How to avoid being murdered in a warehouse by the river...or, tales from Tinder.

We're all familiar with my adventures on POF, correct? Well, I decided to try something new - Tinder. Now, I know what you're thinking, "Isn't that just for hookups?" You're not wrong if you take it at face value, based on the majority of posts and profiles, believe me!  However, I've heard of a handful of women I actually know, having been on some lovely dates with nice guys, and a couple of them even struck up meaningful relationships as a result. Will wonders never cease?!

Last week I started chatting with a perfectly normal seeming man, let's call him Bob...who works as a contractor in some outlandish specialized field catering to the wealthy in our region. Bob, it turns out, was also in band as a teenager and we both lamented on having gone through more than our share of reeds playing alto saxophone and the costs to our respective mothers of said reeds. We had some fun back and forth, agreed we each found the other appealing and that conversation seemed to be going well.

Then he started talking about how much he loves heavy metal and how it's his outlet - and gee isn't it handy that he lives in an apartment in an industrial neighborhood with no neighbors so he can play as loud as he wants without bothering anyone? He also told me that an ex-girlfriend had broken up with him over the music...always interesting. When I asked how that came to be, he explained that she was weak minded. Ah...good to know.
Still, you never know why a relationship fails or prospers, so I opted reserve judgement. I mean, after all, musical taste isn't a dealbreaker for me - unless they can't stand country...then we're done. ;)

So, we continued talking, and he invited me to come over for "grilled cheese and a movie", since he was planning a quiet night in. I must say, I was actually considering it...for the first time in a while I was talking to a guy who wasn't asking sexually loaded questions or throwing out ultimatums about what sort of woman he needs in his life, or bragging about his vehicle/genitalia/vacations/salary/etc. Pretty heady stuff *rolls eyes*. As we talked I told him it would take me some time to get out to his area, since he was over 2 bridges, and suggested we meet at a pub halfway instead - largely because I had made a vow after the last 3 not to go out of my way to meet a first date - only to be rebuffed. He told me that he didn't have any disposable income at the moment, or he would of course want to go out. That was red flag number one...no disposable income whatsoever? Not even enough for coffee or a beer? I've been strapped in the past, but I've always found a little bit of wiggle room.

I decided to offer an alternative to keep things closer to home - literally - and said he could come to my place then if he liked, since he wasn't working that afternoon, and it would be easier. "I don't drive" he says. I responded with "Aah, I see", as an adult human male outside my neighborhood/on the other side of the river who doesn't drive is in fact a deal breaker for me. In response he said "I mean I do drive, I just don't have a company truck today".
Me: "So you just don't have your own vehicle then?"
Bob: "Yeah, it's a long story haha"
Me: "I have time..."
Bob: "Later"  - Red flag number two.

My curiosity was definitely piqued at this point, and I was starting to wonder just what his agenda was. I agreed to meet him, simply to get his address and see where this mysterious "industrial neighborhood" at the foot of the Alex Fraser bridge was. I told him that I was taking a risk in meeting a strange fellow at his place, and he responded (a little too quickly) that he was taking a chance having a "potentially crazy stalker chick" to his place, but that he was "willing to take the risk". A little too slick on the response there buddy boy. - Red flag three.

He sent me his address, which I promptly entered into Google maps...which was (drumroll please!) a warehouse. Not an apartment building in a warehouse district - a full-on warehouse. He also gave me his cell number, and told me to text when I arrived...

Bob: "Text me when you arrive and I'll show you where to park. It'll be unit #10" (Bob's unit in the warehouse is #4 btw)
Me: "I Google mapped it for directions...it's a warehouse...like, an actual warehouse, not an apartment?!"
Bob: "Yeah, I know, weird right?"
Me: "Yeah, really adds to the randomness thing..."
Bob: "Ahah"

RED ALERT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. MAN THE ESCAPE PODS.

I sat back and thought about it for a few minutes...the only conclusion I could come to was that he was going to have me park a ways away from the unit he was living in, and that "bad things" would happen to me, and my car would likely disappear and no one would ever know what happened to me.

SO, given that he didn't know my last name, email, cell number, address, where I worked or anything else...I unmatched him on Tinder and tore up the piece of paper with his number and address on them. Thankfully on Tinder, once you unmatch someone, your messages disappear and the connection is gone too. They can never message you again unless you re-match.

So there you have it folks...don't go to industrial areas at night, because you'll likely disappear.

Maybe I've been watching too many BBC crime dramas on Netflix...but I figure I made a good decision - don't you??

Why you should never date a prison guard...

I’ve had yet another awful date…and this one takes the cake!

Zack, who works in corrections, and has the personality of papier mache (and about the same complexion), pursued me off and on through a local dating site for about several years. I never went out with him because a) I was young and didn't think his job was hot enough (yes, I admit it), and b) he lives in Abbotsford. Periodically he'd message me and I'd get out of it...for a while we were even Facebook friends...but  I always cut contact after not too long. Well, this time, I've been reading a book about settling for Mr. Good Enough if you want to get married and have a family...so I figured, why not? He's still into me, he's messaged me again...I'll see what he's like! No. Just go with your gut if you're ever in this situation...trust me. 

I had been text messaging with him for a couple of days when he started talking about sex, and his equipment, and my body, even when I requested he not. I was told "don't want a shy woman ;)" - wait, so I don't get an opinion on topics of conversation that make me uncomfortable? Ok, cool, good to know... I let that pass and figured maybe he was just overly brash by text...so we made plans for dinner a couple weeks ago, and I drove out to the valley on my day off in order to meet him. Let's be honest, I've made a habit of trekking out to meet guys and they're ALWAYS a disappointment...so at least I've learned that lesson...finally.  On this particular occasion I left late afternoon on my day off, and got into the traffic shuffle of rush hour in the Lower Mainland, fully aware that it would take me quite a while to get out to Abbotsford for the meeting. That being said, I had never been to House of James (Christian bookstore & coffee shop), so I was looking forward to getting to finally check it out. 

After a little under 2 hours in bumper to bumper traffic on Hwy 1, I arrived in Abbotsford and set out to explore the store - dangerous...but that's another story! ;)

Not long after I got out there and he called to say he was going to be late, but that I should pick him up at his place and we'd go for Chinese. Now, I've already driven all the way out there and he expects me to pick him up...that didn't sit well with me. When I got there, he was indeed late, and showed up in ripped clothes, and not even stylishly weathered...I mean jeans he'd torn the knee on, that weren't hemmed short enough for him so they were frayed and filthy - another so called 5'8", this time he was shorter than me in my 1.5" heels. In the end he took one look at my little beater of a car and we took his...and by the way - he's an aggressive driver who doesn't use turn signals. SOOO exciting.

You know what else is fun? Having your date put his head down on his crossed arms at the table half a dozen times, check the football score, and then start talking about the well known local convicted serial killer who's on his block that he speaks to every day.  


He also insisted on talking about future dates and spending nights and weekends together, and complaining that we would have to stay at his place all the time, since my parents live upstairs from me (an increasingly regular occurrence for singletons in the GVRD due to the economy and housing costs!). I disabused him of the notion that my parents aren't human beings with a sex life of their own, and assured him that I carry on a normal social and romantic life in my own home...and in the end I put it quite bluntly - "get over it". Not that he had a snowball's chance of ever needing to worry about it at this point!

But wait - it gets better!!!! When the bill came, he didn't even turn it over to look at it...just leaned back in his chair and asked how much it was when I reached - then asked if I wanted to "just split it down the middle" and said he would pay next time - not that there would be a next time! So I went along with it, I just wanted to get back to my car (parked at his place argh) and go home...an hour drive away. After paying, as we walked out of the restaurant, he grabbed the back of my neck and gave me a couple half hearted one handed squeezes...I shrugged him off, and the next thing I knew he hauled off and smacked my ass so hard he knocked me forward 2 steps. Now, I'm a big, curvy girl...he put some oomph behind that smack. I whipped around, "EXCUSE me?!" and he just grinned at me and said "Just a tap" and shrugged his shoulders.  I was then regaled with how hard it is for anyone he dates with his schedule, and that when he's on his 4 days on schedule, I would have to accept never getting to see him. Oh shoot...

Jump to us arriving back at his place, and him asking if I want to come up. I ended up saying yes, simply because I needed to use the bathroom, but he got snarky and said I could say no if I wanted to. Just to spite him I reiterated that I would come up - for half an hour. When we got upstairs, I realized I couldn't bring myself to use his washroom, so sat gingerly on the couch...at which point he demanded a back rub. Yup...that happened...

So you know what? I gave him one. With my elbows. After 5 or so minutes I told him I was getting sore, and he had begun whimpering, so I figured I'd made my point - until he laid back and put his head on my chest and told me how much he liked having me there. Good lord...the man had no idea what he was doing, or the effect he was having on me!!!

At exactly 30 minutes after arriving, I told him I had to leave...and got up, heading for the door. He came up and hugged me, then kissed my cheek, and asked if he was going to get to see me again. I replied "anything is possible" and legged it out the door. 

This one really was one of the more interesting ones in a while...but seriously?! What is it about me that inspires this sort of thing? I clearly need to set some better boundaries, or just stop dating for a while...

Carpenters and couriers and men who can't read a clock...

Ok, so fall 2016 has been another adventure in bad dates...to the point where I've almost got a ritual of going home, putting on pjs, turning on Netflix and pouring myself a (very nice!) glass of scotch. My Facebook friends are even starting to recognize what it means when I post a photo of scotch in front of the tv. Yes, it's been that much fun!

A brief recap...starting in the last week of September we had Aaron, who is a driver for a large courier chain.

Aaron sleeps with his 100+pound pitbull mix dog, the hair on his arms had hair I SWEAR, said he was 5'8" and was barely the same height as me - 5'5", maybe 5'51/2" in sneakers. He was late, after I went to his neighborhood...a cardinal sin, but the main similarity in ALL THREE of my bad dates so far this fall. Go figure. He'd seemed really nice and sweet when we were talking on the phone and texting, but when we came face to face, there was absolutely zero chemistry...I've had better chemistry with waiters at Boston Pizza. I will say, he paid for our drinks, and walked me to my car, and never bothered to message me again - I'm thinking the lack of spark was mutual. That, or he picked up the crazy I was throwing down. I started talking about how many babies I want, and how crazy my family is, and told him I've got a temper...none of which scared him off. It was bizarre! I think me beating a path for my car and putting the door between us was his hint though. I do wish him all the best though, we just weren't a match.

After that came the Big Gay Whistler Wedding for my friend and his new hubby. I had high hopes of meeting up with a lovely bearded Scotsman I'd gone out with last fall when he was in the city...sadly, our schedules didn't match up, and I was left messaging a guy name Stew I'd met online.

Stew and I had been talking for about a week off and on at that point, and he'd just gotten back from visiting his hometown in the maritimes. Shock of shocks, he asked me out on a proper date (to a BC Lions game...meh), and didn't mention sex or even make an innuendo once. He was the picture of polite and I was really looking forward to finally meeting a nice guy. A few days later, once I was back in town, we decided to meet up for a drink rather than wait for the game day to roll around. Boy am I glad we did... Once again, I drove out to where he lived, and once again, my date was late. For the first time in my life I nearly walked out of a pub before a date arrived! He kept texting and saying he was 5 or 10 minutes away, and when he finally showed up he was 35 minutes late. He ordered 2 pounds of hot wings and a caesar, and proceeded to dunk his fingers in his glass to fish out the garnish, and then attacked this plate of wings and just...sauce...everywhere...talking around it, and he did. not. shut. up. He was wiry and pale, and sat sort of hunched over like someone was going to sneak up and take his food. I was regaled with several bizarre tales about how difficult his life has been since moving to BC, and how he actually hates working and all the people out here, but that he's just got to keep going. I didn't even order a drink...I sipped water...and after about 45 minutes I finally made my excuses and went to leave - he insisted on walking me to my car. The waitress didn't know what to make of him, she kept walking past and making faces at his back, picking up stuff he'd knocked off the bar station next to him or his jacket he dropped multiple times. It was something else... I did the slow fade on that one and he didn't really seem terribly bothered in the end. Home to Netflix and scotch that night.

(Not that I have all of these...but I'd like them haha)

So, part of this is on me - I should have left when Stew was more than 10 minutes late, and really I shouldn't have gone out of my way to go to meet them. That being said, it's interesting just how many men are willing to behave like total prats and don't seem to get that they're not showing ANY manners to their dates.

What's the opinion on how much effort to put into a date? Should we women be asking, or driving out of our way, and putting all the effort in, or should we require men to prove their interest?

And more importantly, why do I keep getting treated like an option, rather than a prize?