Posts Tagged ‘Facebook

19
Jun
09

Boys are confusing

I thought that I had finally met someone worthwhile in Halifax, but I very quickly discovered that I was wrong. Thankfully nothing had really happened and I wasn’t too heavily invested in this thing, so I got over it pretty fast. This new boy, lets call him ‘Sailor’ because he owns a boat, was someone I met last Friday night at a party. In all honestly, when I met him I didn’t think much of him because he acted like a bit of a doofus, thought he was much funnier than he was and was was leering at me. But, the drunker I got (and the more time I spent in his company) the more I liked him.

I ended up spending all night on his boat, because I was too drunk to leave, and the next morning we spent a few pleasant hours together. He seemed quite interested, and as I got in the cab to leave he asked me to email him when I got back from Finland (I was flying there later that day). Although in the cold light of day he was quite cute, and had a pretty tattoo, I still wasn’t convinced I was interested. So I told him I didn’t have his email address. “Facebook me,” Sailor called over his shoulder. “I don’t know your full name, I’ll never be able to find you,” I said, closing the taxi door. I impressed myself at how cool I was being. But then I wasn’t expecting to start liking him.

I get on the plane to Helsinki and look through the photos on my camera, and there were all these fantastic pictures of me and Sailor together. He looked very cute, and extremely happy with his arms wrapped around me, I was grinning ear to ear. I started to think that maybe I should cut the guy a break, perhaps he wasn’t such a doofus and just acted like one to cover up his loneliness or fears or whatever. He had said some lovely things to me that night….

At this point I started acting like a girl. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

So I find him on Facebook pretty easily, and we become friends. I see that he has posted that he had “The Best Weekend Ever” and smile. I see that another chick says “Thanks for a great night Sailor” the day after I saw him but I think, whatever, its okay, doesn’t mean he screwed her. We communicate back and forth and talk about getting together when I get home.

I get off the plane in Halifax and see that he’d messaged to ask when my flight got in because he might be able to see me there (he works at the airport so its not that big a deal), I message back to say I’ll just see him another day (I’d been flying all day and looked like shit, the last thing I wanted to do was see anyone). I walk through customs and there he is waiting for me. That’s showing an interest, right? I was impressed.

So, my ride had forgotten to pick me up so I was sat there for ages talking to Sailor, and it was fun, flirty and we talked about when we’d see each other again. I went home with a smile on my face thinking that I might have finally met someone cute in Halifax.

We emailed a couple of times that night, he said he was looking forward to hanging out and that he was off work on Thursday. Last night when I emailed to ask when we’d be getting together he totally brushed me off, said “I already have plans Thursday night, but if things change I’ll give you a holler”.

WTF?

Seriously, WTF?

After a day of questioning myself (was it because I looked like shit getting off the plane? Because I have a kid? Because there is another girl? Did I say something? Because I mentioned on my blog that I’d met someone?) and feeling like crap, I snapped back to reality. This guy is totally not worth my time. I didn’t think he was worth my time until I saw pictures of us looking happy, until I projected something that wasn’t there on to an entirely inappropriate person.

Sailor is hot, sure, but he is a 40 year old man living like a teenager, on his boat, getting drunk and high. Very fun, but that’s not my life. It might have been fifteen years ago (without the boat), but not now. I took him off my Facebook, because he isn’t a friend (my friends treat me better than that) and even if he suddenly regained interest there is no way I will ever go there again.

18
Apr
09

Running in to Mr Superlover

The sun is shining in Halifax at last, people are out in their gardens and it seems that spring is actually here. So, I knew it was just a matter of time before I ran in to a mistake I made: the neighbor I was in lust with last summer, Nick. What we shared wasn’t even a fling, he was supposed to be a friend with benefits but the friendship never really happened and the benefits were of questionable quality.

Nick is beyond hot. Tall, muscular, smart and employed (doesn’t live with his mum either, bonus!), the first time I saw him up on scaffolding and bare-chested as he fixed up his house I swooned. He really is an absolutely beautiful specimen of mankind. We’d actually been fixed up by a mutual friend on Facebook when I first moved to Halifax last June, he’d pissed me off with some comment and I’d decided not to pursue him, but then I ran in to him two blocks away from my house, where he lived. Because he was so incredibly gorgeous, I invited him over for a beer.

We hooked up, it was nothing special but I put it down to the fact that it was our first time and thought it might get better. Nick came round and helped me fix some stuff in my house, he was a sweetheart, I looked after his dog one day and he asked if he could come round later. He did, we did, but the second time was pretty bad.  Then I had a date with the guy who called his mother a bitchwhore and I was feeling so crappy I invited Nick round to make it feel better. The hook-up was okay, still not that special but I felt a connection. (There I go again being a girl, of course I’d started to like him, especially compared to the rest of the losers I was meeting.) We got on really well and were talking about doing other stuff together, no way was there any relationship talk but I thought the friendship side was going to happen.

Then nothing. I’d run in to him outside his place, which I have to walk past to go ANYWHERE, including to take my kid to daycare, and we’d make small talk but I’d been given the brush off. I invited him over and felt like an idiot when he wasn’t interested. Then he contacted a friend on lavalife with some cheesy message about how big and strong he was and I wanted to gag. I got fed up of notices coming up on my Facebook feed from girls to him about how much they were looking forward to seeing him and so I unfriended him (not because I was jealous so much as I was starting to feel like the least liked member of his Facebook hareem). Nick loved himself, but had every right to I guess, he had so much going for him and obviously no problems attracting girls.

However, like I said, I have to walk past his house at least twice a day and I don’t want awkwardness so I asked for a ride to Home Depot one day (we are both renovating houses, one of the things we had in common) to clear the air and let him know we were cool. We went it was fine, but awkward. That was in September. I was genuinely sad that we couldn’t be friends. On Christmas Eve I emailed to say that I was hoping we could go for a beer sometime, he emailed back the next day to say sure, but he was in Mexico so he would call me when he got back. Of course he didn’t.

So, today as I dragged my daughter to the store in her wagon, wearing track pants and with no make-up on, there he was in his yard. I tried to walk by but he called me over and started making small-talk, I was polite but when he said he hadn’t seen me around I just had to leave. At least the first awkward encounter is over. And, I totally don’t find him as hot as my mind had built him up to be over the past five months. Maybe I’ll just have to cross the street before I get to his place from now on, and remember not to play so close to home next time.

Oh, and for light relief you might want to check out this video, cheesy but too true  http://bit.ly/M9wt6 One of my girlfriends sent it to me because she thought it rang true of some of my experiences!

14
Jun
08

Wingmen reunited

Sat. June 14, Toronto, North by Northeast Music Festival: Two days into the four-day music marathon known as NxNE. A northern cousin to the South by Southwest similar event in Austin. For this one, Wing-y and I have put aside our differences long enough to room together at the Holiday Inn on King, centre of the conference. All you have to do is walk out into the hotel and you could be schmoozing with a SxSW organizer or a famous British radio DJ. I just got back from the fitness centre, where Bob Harris was on a stationary bike. Apparently, he’s a big deal British DJ.

But you want to know about girls, not 60-year-old British radio DJs working up a sweat. Well, there are lots of them around the conference, from the volunteers to the managers to the label execs to the musicians. At the kickoff party Wednesday night, Wingy and I met three girls from some short film distribution company called Ouat; Brady, Sophia, and Doreese. Brady is a husky-voice rocker chick, Sophia a tall blond, Doreese [sp.?] dark-haired and a little zaftig. We were all on the bus heading towards the kick-off party at the Palais Royale. There, Wingy rubbed shoulders with comedian Dave Foley (Newsradio, Kids in the Hall).

Thursday, our first full day here, we had lunch with the illustrious Carling, who once worked with Wingy and is now living with her boyfriend, some dude with Vice Magazine. She took us to an excellent Italian restaurant and we sat on the patio, a relief from the incessant rain of Vancouver, and then showed us the beer store. Thursday night was the usual music conference mad rush to see everything, beginning with the famous EMI rooftop party. As I was on the list and Wingy was not, I was truly hoping this was the moment where the infamous Wingy luck would fail. He was frantic at the prospect of being turned away and having to pass all the music industry types lined up behind us. But, true to form, the yellow-shirted security guards let him in.

A foxy brunette in a red polka-dotted dress caught my attention. She was with some goateed dude but that didn’t stop me from turning to her in the burger lineup. Turned out she’s Sky Sweetnam, a singer who had a minor hit a couple years ago. She sang a few bars–something about “Billy Shakespeare.” There were probably some other minor celebrities there but none that I recognized, though I did run to an old friend, Tatiana, now a yoga instructor in Ottawa. Oddly enough, her name had come up earlier in the day for the first time in a long time because she’d added Wingy as a friend on Facebook. Wingy, who spends most of his free time on his iPhone, email, or Facebook, suddenly rent the air with the question, “Do you know Tatiana N*****?” And I did.

Our first music stop of the night was the Rivoli on Queen Street W. for Smothered in Hugs, a PEI band named after a Guided by Voices song, Small Sins at the Horseshoe with their hit “Stay” (a pop song about fidelity, of all things), and then back to the Rivoli for Mardeen from Halifax and finally Two Hours Traffic, a fine power-pop unit also from the East Coast. At some point in all this we got to talking to a couple of ladies sitting at the bar away from the music. One was an Aeroplan employee and just as I was trying to figure out a way to extricate us from a boring conversation Wingy came over with a couple of chairs for he and I. Good timing.

I know this is rambling but I’m on vacation so you’re just going to have to deal with it. Later I’ll put up some pictures and cut the more extraneous stuff which will probably make this post one of the shortest ever. Also I just have to say I am halfway through Then We Came to the End by Joshua Farris and it’s one of the funniest novels I’ve ever read.

Anyway, back to NxNE. Yesterday was Friday, and we decided to try and see Fred, an Irish band which was playing outside behind Eaton Centre. We’d met their managers, Sheena (Ireland) and Jen (Memphis), who had insisted we come out. We gave it the old college try, even taking a cab, but I brought us to the wrong stage so we missed the set. However, Wingy did emerge from the nearby H & M with two hats, two bathing suits, and six pairs of socks.

None of which he was wearing (well, maybe the socks) when we met up w/ my Lavalife editor Kim (yep, believe it or not, someone edits this stuff) for the Manitoba party at the Drake Hotel. Being from that province myself I wasn’t going to miss out on this one, which featured perogies, cabbage rolls, and other fine Winnipeg-type Ukrainian food (I’m half Ukrainian, you know). Much hobnobbing went on, and though Kim had entered with a lowly wristband she emerged with a priority pass and a super pass. Wingy thinks 20-year-old Hill (short for Hillary, who plays in a band called Drowning Girl) is going to get us into the MuchMusic Video Awards party tonight. We’ll see about that.

Oh yeah, also ran into Vancouver singers Adaline (Shawna) and Nat Jay yesterday at one of the panels in the hotel. The race was on after 5 minutes of chatter from the panelists to see who could leave the room first, them or us, due to pressing, more important appointments.

God, this is long-winded. I’m gonna jump ahead here to the Dakota Tavern where, around 11, we saw Priya Thomas, whose last album I really liked but tonight was doing a more low-key thing with just a bassist, guitar player and a bass drum, which she played along with guitar and vocals. There, we met a couple of Brits from a band called Koogaphone, Julie and the manager, and they ended up sharing a cab with us to the Horseshoe. I thought Julie and I were hitting it off but once at the venue she gave me the cold shoulder so nuts to her. I had bigger fish to fry anyway, although I lost track of one of those fish, Liz, a Liv Tyler-esque brunette I’d met earlier at the Horseshoe, and a member of the Edmonton band the Summerlad. Too bad but that’s the way these things go. Well I did end up seeing Swervedriver, a reunited British guitar-rock band from the ’90s, at Lee’s Palace, which had been the evening’s ultimate goal. However, the venue was a sweatbox and I was tried from the day’s drinking and schmoozing, so it was hard to enjoy. Who knows what today will bring… probably another trip to H&M.

15
Feb
08

When Vegas escapes…

Oh man oh man. That ‘what happens in Vegas’ saying isn’t just a catchy ad line. It’s a RULE, and it is in place for a reason.

That is what I have learned in the two weeks since returning.

Diary confession: I flirted with a boy in Las Vegas. We actually went to a strip club. That is IT. Nothing happened, not even a kiss. (I would tell you if it had. After all, I have no idea who you are, and you could be anyone in the world including my mother, a stalker or a potential client. See? Totally safe.)

Anyway whatever. Nothing happened b/c I asked him whether he had a girlfriend and he said ‘yes.’ I said ‘DAMN’ and that was kind of the end of it. I’m not a homewrecker.

Next day, the texting begins. And continues, all the way back to LA, and thence to New York (where I was the last week…more on that later), and then back to LA again. At first it was rather innocent: i.e. You wore me out last nite…

Hum. that does not look so innocent, now that I read it. But it was. It referred to miles walked and sleep lost, not rigorous athletic sexual activity.

Anyway, I must confess I brought the whole game up a notch, demanding that he come out and meet me the first evening he was back. Not that I actually wanted to see him that badly–I was having drinks w/friends and then going to a show at Spaceland. I was just curious to see what he would do. (Curiosity is one of my major personality traits. I wouldn’t call it a flaw, but it does complicate life sometimes.)

Anyway, he didn’t, but has been fishing and trolling to see what I’m up to ever since. AND has upped the ante beyond fun and risky to downright sleazy by implying that he split with his lady. For 10 days, implying this. Meanwhile I’m in New York, going ehhhh? While my GFs (dating writers, pole dancers, all-round cynics) are like “YEAH RIGHT!” in a Greek chorus fashion.

Back in LA this week, things come to an awkward finish when I discover on his Facebook acct that he is very much part of a twosome, and that we apparently have mutual friends. Right away I message him–The world is too small–and he replies in a friendly way. We shoot the shit for a while. We log off.

He texts me at 9PM w/a couple hours free, wanting to know what I am doing.

What am I, a pay-by-the-hour hooker? I want to say, but don’t.

I say nothing, and continue working on my LA Times column about the strange impulses triggered in men if you take them for a first-date nightcap in a strip club. Coincidentally, a man whom I’d had a similar evening out with two years ago (I think he and I even sat at the same table) had texted me that evening as well, wanting to know whether I could be his date to some big televised event in Las Vegas.

At least that potential sleazy tryst would stay in Vegas. The guy promised me. Still, television is too close to reality for me. I live in Hollywood, what can I say? And even though I write this blog, I am not actually a big proponent of sleazy trysts.  Or men who screw around on their ladies. Actually I hate those men.

Back to Mr. LA-via-Vegas. This morning I got a little bitchy via email. And he got a little wounded-innocent, saying perhaps I’d daydreamed the whole thing. At which point I offered to copy-paste our text exchange. At which point he apologized, sarcastically. At which point I turned into Level III Hurricane Lena. (I can go up to Level VI by the way. You should see it. It’s fun…from a distance.)

Anyway, I think after many huffy messages we have worked things out. Mr LV-V-V thinks I am ‘mean’ and I think I am ‘stupid’, but apart from that, we’re good. I hope. And I have learned a valuable lesson, which is that next time I meet a random guy in Vegas, go out dancing and wind up in a strip club, I’ll leave without getting his number. Or his name.

Peace out, and happy Valentine’s to all.

28
Dec
07

Boys: Girls = 5:1

There is a myth out there that dating in the city (any city: NYC, Toronto, Vegas, probably even Pittsburgh for all I know) is tough. Honestly, that myth needs to go away and never come back, because it’s disheartening and inaccurate and patently untrue.  Meeting your Other Half may prove difficult–especially if you believe, as I do, that humans are created whole, not broken down the middle like those little “Best Friends” necklaces that sixth-graders wear. But dating–or, to further simplify, meeting people–is ubiquitous. The universe throws opportunities at your head all the time. It’s just a matter of A) noticing them and B) taking them.

Though I write about dating/mating/relating and all things encompassed therein, I am surprisingly bad at both A and B. If a guy in a bar is talking to me, I’ll instantly assume he’s gay. If a friend says, “Lena would you like to meet my next-door neighbor, who is a cute single 30-something surgeon?” I’ll say, “No thanks, I’m busy.”

This last quirk is particularly odd because my friends invariably attempt to hook me up with cool people.  All in all, their judgement can be trusted. I am just… difficult about these things.

Case in point: the email thread below, between me and Susan, a publicist friend who I’ve known for five years but almost never see.

Are you in town? if you are come to our little get together, the guy girl ratio is like 5/1, come, meet nice boys!
xo sm

Today at 5:51pm
when is it? I am in town but car probs + work = I am quite the party-pooper. Plus I hate boys. Is this for your engagement?  lk

Today at 6:01pm
where do you live? we are just off X  bet Y and Z so if you are nearish it’s easy to train or bus it.

do you hate boys as a regular thing or just recently?
xo sm

Today at 6:03pm
oh, also yes this is for our engagement, but we do these parties weekly so we always celebrate something!
:)sm

Today at 7:22pm
First of all, congrats on your engagement. Second, yes, I always hate boys; however, I often date and/or have sexual congress with them nonetheless. Third, I will come w/an amiga. Her name is Nadia, she’s a good friend, and I’ve been trying to get her to become a publicist for years, so I’d like her to meet you. — lk

PS I write dating columns, remember? Obviously I love/hate boys!  –lk

 This thread, though short, has many things to teach the Dater in Search of More Play:

  1. Make friends with publicists…they know tons of people, and they throw parties weekly.
  2. Be hard-to-get, or even downright cranky. For some odd reason, it works.
  3. Always study the odds. For me, 5:1 male-to-female is not good, it’s downright scary. That’s why I’m bringing girlfriend reinforcements.
  4. Don’t say you hate boys in random conversation, or people may begin to wonder if you’re a lesbian. Even if you’re clearly, historically, as a matter of public record, NOT.

If there are any lonely young women out there who feel like flirting/drinking/making out with, oh, FOUR fine upstanding Southern California men this Friday evening, please let me know. Nadia drives an SUV, and there is always room for one more.

30
Oct
07

Monday Morning Quarterback

First of all, let me just say, Wow! What a weekend! A birthday party, a burlesque Hallowe’en party, a “Bollyween” party, a “Monster Mash” party, a pagan party for Burning Man survivors, and a huge street parade that brought out thousands of partygoers. And I missed all of it!

Okay, that’s not exactly true. However, I did miss a lot, either entirely or by a hair. For instance, the Bollyween party. Held in a loft near downtown on Friday night, the soiree encouraged guests to dress a la Bollywood, i.e., Indian movie musical style. I don’t even want to get into the stress when I realized, after work Friday, I didn’t have the appropriate Bolly-wear, and that the nearby thrift store didn’t have what I needed. Compounding my anxiety, my wingman had visited the party site on Facebook. “All these girls are going!” Wingy said excitedly. “Hundreds! And only seven guys!” Anyway, all my stress was for naught, for by the time we arrived the party was down to the seven guys and only a few of the girls, and no one cared I wasn’t wearing a brightly coloured cotton shirt studded with rhinestones.

We were late for two reasons: a book launch and a birthday party. Of the former, there is nothing much to say, since book launches aren’t exactly hotbeds of singles activity. As for the latter, the celebration–at a once-trendy, now slightly frayed, restaurant/bar–was for the lovely Nat, a friendly bartender and girl-about-town. She was in the company of a few of her hot single friends, so I took the gathering as an opportunity to test out The Contract (see previous blog), specifically codicil #4: Thou shalt not seek to impress.

Normally, when I am surrounded by comely lasses, my automatic response is to crack jokes only I think are funny or tell stories no one is interested in hearing. This time, I did none of that. Instead, I basically sat there, back against banquette, like a lump, while the drinking and laughter raged about me. I did get one email address, though—from a potential interview subject, a guy who claims to be a stockbroker, DJ, and an adult filmmaker. In this day and age, you have to diversify.

Saturday night was more or less a write-off.* Sunday afternoon, however, featured a coffee date. Well, not a date, really, since I no longer “date”. It was a business meeting. Or was it? It felt like a date, at least to me. Sally** and I had had met once before, but only briefly, and this time, over coffee, we talked more about our personal lives than business. Anyway, she’s devilishly cute. So now the question is, what do I do? The Contract also states, “Thou shalt not pursue.” (The idea being that chasing women has gotten me nowhere.) But what if I just happened to drop a hint about an upcoming event she might be interested in? Or is that the beginning of the slippery slope?

*Comments my friend, MBK, with whom I went to the Halloween parade on Saturday night:

“I think it would been funny to mention how we ended up on the couch, a Blue Man and a purple-tressed alien, watching a Bruce Lee movie, at 10 pm Sat night, no?” Well, I dunno–I’m not really sure if that’s the image I want to project…

**Name changed in case anyone reads this.




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