37 posts tagged “the canadian”

It's not that hard if you just turn the key...

No updates. It's been a slow dating year, but I don't mind. I'm enjoying my freedom and just meeting new people in general. On Wednesday I was partying in West Hollywood (quickly becoming my second home). I'm dance, dance, dancing up a storm at HERE when I see in the crowd...The Canadian.

Or his gay doppelganger.

It looked just like him. Dark hair, Eastern European looks, glasses, button-down shirt. Not as tall as the real thing, but I was still startled nonetheless and then I found myself...wanting to grab his attention (with my provocative dance) if only just to reject him cruelly.

This lady wants revenge.

Last weekend I met a new guy and I like him. We flirted a bit, impressed him on my knowledge of The Princess Bride, and now we're "friends" on FB. I really don't know if it will go anywhere, but I'm open to it.

Today at work one of the marketing execs stopped by and I noticed she was "showing". I didn't think she was seeing someone, so I interrogated my co-worker and found out...

She's having a baby on her own.

The whole situation made me think of this article in which the author Lori Gottlieb extols the glories of settling. Her was this woman in a high-power position, attractive, probably in her mid-thirties, deciding to have a baby on her own.

And still single.

How come she didn't settle, like in Gottlieb's article? What exactly was she looking for and convinced that she hadn't found yet? At this point in my life, with 30 on the horizon, I wonder if one day I'll get to the point where I'll "settle". The Canadian used to say "everyone settles" because there's always something better out there.

I think we had different ideas of settling.

Reading through this article, I wonder if it really is too much to ask that I be in a relationship, regardless of where it leads, with a guy who adores me. In the last 2 years, I've met two guys who, even for a short time, were really into me. And I was into them. I know "chemistry" is difficult to muster, but I just wonder what exactly does it mean to settle.

From my dating adventures, here's all I know - I want someone honest, someone brave, someone interesting. When people ask what my type is, I don't know how to answer. I feel like if I did I'm pigeon-holing myself from a potential fantastic. I know I used to have a list, but I don't know what's on it anymore. Not really.

Maybe I'm already starting to settle, in my own way.

The two guys that changed the way I think about what my ideal were DK and The Canadian. And even though both ended because the relationship just couldn't continue, when I was with them all I knew was that I cared for them just the way they are and I could overlook anything that would have been a deal breaker - yes, even the STD.

Then I read this:

Settling is mostly a women’s game. Men settle far less often and, when they do, they don’t seem the least bit bothered by the fact that they’re settling.

My friend Alan, for instance, justified his choice of a “bland” wife who’s a good mom but with whom he shares little connection this way: “I think one-stop shopping is overrated. I get passion at my office with my work, or with my friends that I sometimes call or chat with—it’s not the same, and, boy, it would be exciting to have it with my spouse. But I spend more time with people at my office than I do with my spouse.”

Then there’s my friend Chris, a single 35-year-old marketing consultant who for three years dated someone he calls “the perfect woman”—a kind and beautiful surgeon. She broke off the relationship several times because, she told him with regret, she didn’t think she wanted to spend her life with him. Each time, Chris would persuade her to reconsider, until finally she called it off for good, saying that she just couldn’t marry somebody she wasn’t in love with. Chris was devastated, but now that his ex-girlfriend has reached 35, he’s suddenly hopeful about their future.

“By the time she turns 37,” Chris said confidently, “she’ll come back. And I’ll bet she’ll marry me then. I know she wants to have kids.” I asked Chris why he would want to be with a woman who wasn’t in love with him. Wouldn’t he be settling, too, by marrying someone who would be using him to have a family? Chris didn’t see it that way at all. “She’ll be settling,” Chris said cheerfully. “But not me. I get to marry the woman of my dreams. That’s not settling. That’s the fantasy.”

Chris believes that women are far too picky: everyone knows, he says, that a single middle-aged man still has appealing prospects; a single middle-aged woman likely doesn’t. And he’s right. Single women are painfully aware of this. I hear far more women than men talk about getting married as a goal to be met by a certain deadline. My friend Gabe points out that this allows men to be the true romantics; when a man breaks up with a perfectly acceptable woman because he’s “just not feeling it,” there’s none of the ambivalence a woman with a deadline feels. “Women are the least romantic,” Gabe said. “They think, ‘I can do that.’ For a lot of women, it becomes less about love and more about what they can live with.”

The paradox, of course, is that the more it behooves a woman to settle, the less willing she is to settle; a woman in her mid- to late 30s is more discriminating than one in her 20s. She has friends who have known her since childhood, friends who will know her more intimately and understand her more viscerally than any man she meets in midlife. Her tastes and sense of self are more solidly formed. She says things like “He wants me to move downtown, but I love my home at the beach,” and, “But he’s just not curious,” and “Can I really spend my life with someone who’s allergic to dogs?”

I’ve been told that the reason so many women end up alone is that we have too many choices. I think it’s the opposite: we have no choice. If we could choose, we’d choose to be in a healthy marriage based on reciprocal passion and friendship. But the only choices on the table, it sometimes seems, are settle or risk being alone forever. That’s not a whole lot of choice.

And no matter what women decide—settle or don’t settle—there’s a price to be paid, because there’s always going to be regret. Unless you meet the man of your dreams (who, by the way, doesn’t exist, precisely because you dreamed him up), there’s going to be a downside to getting married, but a possibly more profound downside to holding out for someone better.

Ugh! I can't read this shit anymore...

Today was a good day. I went to a bbq and met new boys even though none were available or had interest in me. Then in the evening I had an impromptu "Lonely Ladies" (aka LoLa) night with a friend and the Sex And The City Movie.

Do you know any other way to celebrate independence?

I've been a bit blue this week. This was supposed to be the week the Canadian was going to visit me. I've been doing well so far. I had a long stretch of time where I didn't think about him at all. It's just this week that I'm remembering. And I admit that I miss him, but I'm not sure what I miss - him, the company, or the idea that someone out there adored me.

Will I ever find another guy whose eyes light up when I enter the room?

I suppose these thoughts come to mind as I see my friends struggle in their relationships. I just hope their struggle toward a common goal - a successful relationship. Sometimes I want to ask them "what does this successful relationship look like?" because everyone seems to want that so much. For my friend it would mean marriage and children. For the Canadian, for whom my question originated, I think he'd say one that would last forever, especially after his two marriages ended.

It just dawned on me that as we get older and recover from the relationship war wounds, we either take bigger risks or become afraid. Risk-taker because you've lived through it all and now you can survive any ordeal. Or afraid because you just don't want to make another mistake and end up hurt.

I'm going to be a risk-taker.

I slept most of today because I'm getting sick. When i'm awake I just cough and now I have a funny nose. What the hell is happening to my body? When did I develop such a weak immune system?

During one of my sleeping sessions I had a dream about The Canadian. I was in line for another cruise when I saw him out of the corner of my eye. I decided to ignore him and pray that he wouldn't spot me, but he did and started to move in my direction. Immediately, I turned and walked quickly the other way. He didn't pursue, but our mutual friend Cruise G did.

Cruise G: Why are you ignoring the Canadian? He looked really hurt.
Me thinking: He's hurt? He's hurt?!
Me: I don't see why I have to talk to him. We're strangers now. He got what he wanted - to fuck me. It's better if we're not in each others' lives.

Cruise G didn't understand, but I didn't feel like talking anymore. In my dream I left the port; took off and left all my luggage behind.

If he knows what's best for him, he'd forget all about me and find that person who will fit his agenda perfectly - on the same timeline, in the same location, wanting the same thing - a successful relationship.

And I know what's best for me is to remove people from my life who treat me with such little regard.

I was checking my email, the one I don't use so check only once a week. I saw some interesting SPAM.

You've been invited to join Blank Blank's MSN live network.

Who's Blank Blank..? oooOOOoooh.

The Canadian.

I forgot his name.

Gonne do it on purpose.

Last night I did something out of character for me in my normal life - I went to bed with someone from a bar. Granted, he was part of the party of friends I met up with here in San Diego; we were introduced by a mutual friend. However, I never go out with the intention of hooking up and most of the time if the opportunity arises (ahem) I usually turn it down.

I turn it down because...because...sex is a special act of two people's feelings for each other?

But this time I didn't say no. I guess I wanted to know that I was still desirable, although I just disrespected myself and the guy in the process.

The sex was unsuccessful. We were too drunk - he wasn't hard enough and I was too dry. A recipe for disaster. I least I got a little cuddle out of it. I took the walk of shame this morning back to my car, then the drive of shame to my parents' house where I got ready to meet another friend for brunch.

It was good to see friends last night. They were friends I made on the cruise and know The Canadian. It was helpful to talk to the girls about my heartache and to hear theirs. I don't want to hate him or make others hate The Canadian, but I still want a sympathetic ear.

Yesterday I was doing alright. I was levelheaded and possibly optimistic about things in general.

Today, not so much. Maybe it's just my hangover from partying at HERE, but today I miss him. Today I'm freaking out about someone I decided to let go. Today I want to fast forward time to when I don't think about him anymore because there's another distraction in my life.

I'm forgetting him and he's forgetting me. It's so scary. Did we mean anything to each other at all?

or just mental...

I'm staying home today. I even did my hair, but I can't seem to function. My brother visited me this weekend and we were talking about how "ignorance is bliss". How if we didn't know something about someone, or if we weren't so smart and aware of the world, we could be happier and fearless in taking risks.

This is probably one of the first times where I'm having regrets. I wish I never let it get this far. I wish I didn't let myself open up and get attached. I wish I never met him, so after I left the cruise I could have just gone on my merry way, dating and being hopeful. I wish I still believed that at one point he did have feelings for me, but now everything is gone. I wish he just told me that he didn't care from the beginning so I could have not cared too.

I wish someone could look into my future and tell me that it gets better.

I want to erase everything, like in Eternal Sunshine.

Gawd. I'm reading through past entries of mine. I was hung up on DK for almost a year after our last encounter/fuck. And I only really got over him until I met The Canadian.

Will I be hung up on The Canadian for that long too?

Geezus!

I know I'm wounded right now and it takes time to heal wounds, but am I going to be hung up on some guy who didn't really want me anyway until the next guy (who probably won't really want me) comes along?

Is that how this works?

So frustrating. I bet that guy isn't thinking about his loss for a second. Why am I like this?

I finally said goodbye to The Canadian.

I'm heartbroken, but this is the choice I choose. I can't be friends with him. I don't want to be friends with him. It's too much to ask of me after everything he and I went through. I wanted to move for him, but he wouldn't for me. And he wouldn't let me move out there for him. I think that says a lot. He started dating again, even though he said he had no interest in the dates.

I couldn't possibly have been that special to him.

It hurts now, but I'll get over it. I have wonderful friends and a good job.