Officially Four Years ( or I Just Want to Ramble About Myself For a Moment )

It's been four years.

Officially, four years.

I woke up this morning, earlier than I wanted to wake up. ( But, honestly, it's always too early for me. ) Took the dog for a walk, and as we were on out walk, it dawned on me...

It's officially been four years single. Four years since I ended my financially stable, good enough, safe relationship because it wasn't quite right. ( Not to mention his blatant disregard for my privacy and lack of ability to just talk to me about things, but that's besides the point. )

And that's what it really was, it wasn't quite right.

* Brace yourself. This gets cheesy and cliche from here on out. If you're allergic to that stuff, stop now *

Eight months earlier I had begun a sport which would start me on a journey of self-discovery, self-awareness, and a profound shift in how I see not only myself, but the world.

Roller derby. How the hell did I even get past the recruitment night? I spent more time on my ass than I did up on my skates. ( And I honestly do not think I am exaggerating at all on that point. ) At the end of it, I had convinced myself that this sport wasn't for me. How could it be? I couldn't skate. I was so out of shape that I was winded after just a few minutes out there.  ( Full disclosure: I weighed in at around 320 lbs at this point. ) I was painfully shy and lacked confidence in a sea of strong, confident women. But, what made me return was one simple exchange between me and a couple veteran skaters as I was about to walk out the door at the end of the night.

" Are you coming back? " She shouted at me.
" I...I don't know, "
" You should. You have the perfect body for derby!! "
" Yeah! " The skater sitting beside her says " We'll teach you how to use those hips, "

Never in my life had anything about me ever been described as perfect by anyone other than my mother. Never had I ever been told by anyone, after I spent a whole 2 hours effectively failing at everything I tried to do, that I had a potential that needed to be encouraged. I was 30 years old and had never experienced encouragement and acceptance like I had that night, in the one quick exchange. Those two skaters' names I cannot recall anymore, possibly Knox and Betty Something, but their faces are etched in my mind.

And I went back. Took me five months to get there, but I went back.

Six months later, I left my job and started chair renting. I was self-employed. An incredible achievement for me.

Eight months later, four years ago today, I left my relationship, less than two months before my wedding date.

This was an incredible shock to most people in my life. How do you answer the question " What happened? " when nothing really happened. How do you explain that it just wasn't right? How do you explain that your heart sank when he asked you to marry him? How do you explain that you couldn't justify to yourself at that point why you shouldn't? It was the perfect proposal, after all. On a bench, after a picnic, in the park on Pont Neuf in Paris, part way through our month long European adventure.

Truth be told, I didn't even answer him. I just cried. I allowed him to think it was out of happiness. I never actually said yes. I couldn't. I couldn't get that word out of my mouth. I'm not proud of that, but I rationalized it by telling myself that I was just too shocked to answer. ( It was completely unexpected. ) And I thought that when the shock wore off I would be thrilled! I texted my best friend, Ron, later that day to tell him. The text read something along the lines of " So, Ben asked me to marry him, " Ron says he knew immediately that this wasn't good, that I wasn't happy. I'm convinced that man knew me better than I knew myself at the time. A decade of friendship will do that. ( And I miss him dearly nearly every day. )

I wasn't thrilled.

The more planning that went into this wedding, which ended up being far more than I wanted, the more that sinking feeling in my stomach grew.  ( In his defense, my ideal wedding is a little chapel in Vegas with Elvis as the officiant. A desire I had expressed previously, and since, but I don\t think anyone takes me seriously when I say it. For the record, I am dead serious about this. ) I have never seen marriage as a goal in life, and therefore, having a wedding is not something I care much about.

I continued to tell myself that it was just those pre-wedding jitters. All brides get them. As a hairdresser, I had been around enough brides to know that nervousness and jitters is completely normal. But, I knew it was more than that. I tried to broach these feelings with a few people. Most told me to was normal. Only a couple suggested I think about this a little harder. Christina and Josh ( or Klutch. Derby names die hard. ) along with Ron, were the only three, out of a large group of people who even hinted that something wasn't right here.

I kept putting off the planning. Save the dates and invitations never got sent out. I barely told anyone. I arranged for a friend to make my dress, but never really pushed for fittings. I did ask my brother to be my maid of honour,( Yeah, you read that right. ) but stalled on getting him names of friends for my bachelorette party. I still wonder what he would have come up with for that.

( You know, brother, you could just throw me an awesome party, any time you want, for no reason. )

And it was this day, four years ago, that I returned from supporting the men's derby team in Calgary to my fiancee telling me that he had looked through my phone a week or so prior while I was in the shower. Why? He claims it was because he knew something was wrong and wanted to know what it was. But, I call bullshit on that.

He thought I was cheating on him.

I wasn't.

But, he did read some texts stating my hesitation and being unsure of marrying him.

He did read my personal conversations with friends about fears and my feelings.

He violated my trust and my privacy.

I left that night, stayed in a hotel by myself.

And never went back.

He accused me of cheating. Of being a gold digger ( because I asked for the down payment I put on the condo back, and the 3100$ I had just given to the condo board a couple weeks prior to redo the windows.This was after he had gone through my phone. He knew something was up and still allowed me to shell out that money! )

He called me useless. He told me I contributed nothing to the relationship. That I was entitled to nothing. He questioned whether I had even put money into the down payment. He told me that I owed him for the trip to Europe ( I paid my own way. )

He blamed his debt on me. He blamed everything on me. He said a whole manner of things to and about me.

He lied to me.

I lost the deposits on the wedding venues, I lost my down payment on the condo. I lost that 3100$ for the windows. I walked away with virtually nothing but my dog.

I lived with my younger brother for seven months. I had nothing. I was broke. I had a new business that I was just trying to get off the ground. I took part-time work just to make ends meet. I went from driving an '07 Monte Carlo to a '97 Chrysler Neon. ( I still miss the engine in that Monte Carlo. )

And I threw myself into roller derby. I fell and they picked me back up, time and time again. ( Metaphorically and literally. I fell, and still fall, a lot in that sport. It hurts. I always hurt. ) I yelled, I screamed, I cried. I threw things. And those people still accepted me. Still held onto me, and still supported me.

And I thrived.

A year later and a half later, I had my own apartment, supporting myself by myself on my self-employment income.

A few months after that, I took up power lifting. I had no idea I could be that strong.

A year later, I made a decade long dream come true and traveled to India, and trip that completely altered my perception of life. I came back more compassionate, more introspective, and no longer willing to sit back and let the world go by without me.

I became a warrior.

Two months later, I bought my business.

Four months after that I bought a motorcycle.

And eight months after that, I bought my house.

I learned to take fear and use it. I learned to use disappointed to make me better. I learned to challenge expectations put on me, but not only others, but by myself.

My dad said to me the other day " I never doubted that you would find your own path in life. "

I doubted it. I doubted it most of my life without even realizing I was doubting it. I doubted myself.

I never thought I'd be single at 34. I never thought I'd own my own home, my own business, a motorcycle. I never thought I'd actually get to India. I never thought I'd be in a position to help my friends when they need it. I never thought I'd be as loud and a vocal as I am in the face of injustice. I never thought I'd be directly politically involved, that that I could count politicians and people making a real difference as friends. I never thought I'd be called an inspiration, strong, real, or a role model. ( Descriptions of me I am still far from comfortable with. ) I never thought I would figure out what it truly means to be me.

And I know I am strong enough to handle anything.

It's officially been four years to the day.

Four years since I took that first step and found my own path.

And I'm better for it.

Too Opinionated Maybe ( or The Last Man Standing )

I was born and raised in Brandon, Manitoba. I left when I was 19. Bad things always happen to me when I go back there. But, I go back because I adore my cousins and I love seeing them get married. This time it truly dawned on me...

I'M THE LAST MAN STANDING. ( So to speak. )

My single status doesn't cross my mind too often, at least not as something to be worried about, or to even seriously think about. ( It does however cross my mind when I've got my leg propped up on pillows with an ice pack on my ankle, a process which takes a while to set up, and I realize I forgot to bring my bottle of water with me!!! )

But, it always crosses my mind when I attend weddings, And at the wedding last week ( which was incredible, really. It included fire works that put the Canada Day ones in most cities to shame ) I realized that I was was the only unattached person left of my generation. Not all were married, but of the ones who are not, my older cousin  has two kids with his girlfriend and they have lived together for years, my brother and his girlfriend I suspect are going that direction, and my youngest cousin is talking about moving in with her boyfriend ( and my cousins don't tend to move in with people they don't intend to marry. ) All the others, my three other younger cousins, are married, as are my two oldest cousins ( half-cousins if you want to get technical. Although my two oldest (half)cousins are closer in age to my parents than they are to me. I'll explain it to you someday. ). This is not to mention the majority of the other guests and family members were also attached, and if not, were a fair bit younger than me. We're talking six or seven years younger at minimum.

And no one asks me anymore when I'm going to find someone. I think they've all given up.

This of course starts me thinking.... Why? Why am I the last one? What is it about me that has brought me to this point, the point of being the last single one left, with no real potential relationship in my life?

I some times as people about this. Guys I've become close to but which things haven't panned out with. Men I have been close friends with over the years. Female friends, family members. I've asked them all. And the response I get is always the same....

" It's not you, it's them. "
" It wasn't you, it was me, "

Even when I have point blank asked them why they didn't want to take our friendship a step further, I get the I just wasn't ready answer. Which is bullshit because three weeks later they end up in relationships with other people.  Does three weeks make that much of a difference? Really? I don't believe you! ( The not telling the truth here bothers me, but that's a rant for another day. )

The only one who gave me even an inkling of an answer was my father.

" Too opinionated maybe, " 

And this is where I become incredibly confused.

I was raised during a time when  young women and girls were being told to be strong, speak out, be independent. My mom was a single mom who worked three jobs at times to make ends meet. I grew up watching her struggle, but beyond one man whom she nearly married, didn't ever rely on a man to help her. She raised the two of us virtually on her own. She dated here and there, but she was predominantly single. She encouraged me to express myself, be honest with my feelings, and to be true to who I am, and to not rely on anyone. She allowed me to colour my hair, wear weird clothing, and do all the strange things I wanted to do.

I was an odd kid, to say the least.

My father influenced me in ways I don't think he realized. He is the reason I am so interested in politics and I never saw my dad back down from a good debate. My father almost always offered his opinion on a subject or a person, whether it was wanted or not.

* Wait, didn't you say your mother was a single mom? Yes, my parents were divorced. Again, I'll tell you the story some day. *

At no point did I ever feel that I was to be quiet, meek, or hold my opinions back. My father and I may not always agree on things ( almost never, to be honest ) but I have always been encouraged to voice those opinions. And voice them I do.

And now I hear " Too opinionated maybe, "

Too opinionated? Too opinionated for who? For what?

It's not that he said " You're very opinionated and that can be tough for some people to deal with, ". He said " Too opinionated, " And the implication of that statement stunned me.

" Too opinionated maybe, "

The implication is that no one is ever going to want to deal with me the way I am.

The implication is that I'm not deferential enough.

The implication is that I need to just shut up and keep my thoughts to myself. 

Because no man is ever going to want someone with strong opinions like me.

And those three words have been on my mind every since. They keep playing over and over in my mind, along with a few words my mother said about a year ago:

" Men want to be needed."

The context was a discussion about need vs want. I firmly believe that wanting someone to be a part of your life, yet not needing them, means far more than needing them. A need is something you must have, you get no choice in. A want is a choice, through and through.

I NEED to drink water. I WANT to drink cold water.

I NEED to eat. I WANT to eat tasty food.

I don't get a choice in what I need, but I do get to choose what I want. I can't choose to get rid of what I need, but I can choose to get rid of what I want when I don't want it anymore. In my thinking, continuing to want something or someone means so much more because I have the choice.

Those words from my mother have been rolling around in my head since she said them. The implications just as stunning as the implications from the words of my father.

The implication is that I shouldn't be as independent as I am.

The implication is that the only way a man is going to want to be with me is if I need them to look after me in some way.

And the implications of both of these things are worrisome and incredibly confusing for me.

How do I reconcile then things I was taught growing up, with the reality I am experiencing? How do I reconcile what my parents told and showed me as a kid with what they are saying now? How do I scale back my opinions, my personality, my independence and the life I had built so a man can feel comfortable in it?

Is that what I have to do to be able to share life with someone? To have someone hug me when I cry? To have someone to make breakfast for? Is that what the requirement is for a life of loving, traveling, laughing, crying, arguing, making out, eating, hugging, smiling, and all the other things one does in life, with?

Really?

Because I don't know if can measure up to that requirement.

Frustration and Excitement..... my stomach is not happy about these butterflies.

I'm frustrated.

I'm frustrated with my inability to figure this whole dating/relationship thing out on my own.

I'm frustrated that I'm so halting and scared to just tell someone something. I'm frustrated that I can't just be honest. I'm frustrated that being honest and upfront about your feelings results in being called to attached or in outright rejection. I'm frustrated that I allow my past experiences to dictate how I proceed in the now. And I'm frustrated that my fear of hurt is keeping me from something I want.

I project a very independent, confident, and strong face to the world. And that face isn't untrue. In so many ways I am all those things and more. And I know it. I am attractive physically and intellectually. I know this because I'm told this so often. I'm a role model ( not that I like the idea of being one. ). I find something I want to do, I grab ahold of it, and fear be damned, I jump in!

But, I'm am so lost when it comes to romantic relationships. I'm so lost. I spent most of my 20s in a series of relationships that I was in out of necessity or desperation, attempting to not be alone. I needed the validation that I was worth something and I found that in men. And those men were easy to find. I jumped right in. A serial dater. I didn't go more than three months without someone to call 'boyfriend'. They weren't always healthy relationships ( almost none were ) but they were relationships and I needed them to feel valid.


I left my ex 4 years ago after 6 1/2 years together and 2 months shy of our wedding day. I was 30 years old. I don't regret it, but I also thought that I would find someone to truly SHARE my life with. And 'share' is the key word. I'd spent my life trying to fit into other people's lives and I lost my own. I didn't expect to be single at 34, my 30s consisting of short term hook ups never getting past the third meeting, or date if you want. The few ( and I mean very few ) that have gotten past that point have turned into long term hook ups or just fizzled out. In four years I have yet to find something truly substantial with someone who truly excites me. I would go so far as to say I haven't found anything truly substantial and exciting with someone in a decade, or in my life. Until I woke up one day and realized that that someone is right in front of me.

I found myself being in a place where I knew he would pass by on purpose, even when I didn't need to be there. I found myself looking at the clock to see the time and figure out whether I'd missed him. I found myself waiting around longer than I needed to just in case he came by. I found myself being late for events because he had stopped by and I didn't want to end the conversation. I found myself searching for sonething to talk about just so I could be around him.  And it took me a long time to realize that I was doing this. And I've never done this in my life. I have never wanted to see someone so much in my life.

I'm excited. I'm giddy. There a butterflies in my tummy just thinking about him. I smile at the thought. This is something substantial, and this is something exciting. I'm sure of it.

And I'm terrified of this. And I'm frustrated that I'm terrified. I'm frustrated that I am over thinking this. And I'm frustrated that I agonize over every word, every message I send. This isn't me. This isn't who I am, is it?

Is this how it's supposed to go? Aren't you supposed to just know?

" If they like you they'll make an effort, " But what about my side? Do I just sit back and wait for that 'effort'? Or does that saying swing both ways? Should I not also make an effort? What does 'an effort' look like? What is too much effort?  What is too little? What if I step over that line? Or what if I don't come close enough to it? I have been accused of being both ' too attached ' and ' too aloof ', most often the latter. When do I know if he's just not interested? When do I know that he is interested? How do I know? And what do I do when I do know?

" Don't worry about it.  It'll just happen. "  Nothing ever ' just happens '.

I'm so lost, and excited, and terrified, and excited. But, I have no idea what to do with any of it.

I have never wanted to get to know some one more than I want to get to know this man. I've never wanted to be close to someone as much as I want to be close to him. And I have never wanted to kiss someone as badly as I want to kiss him.

And I have no idea what to do. 

It's not you, it's me. ( Or why I didn't attend your event. )

I really wanted to attend your house warming.

I really wanted to go out dancing with you on Friday night.

I really wanted to meet you for dinner.

I really wanted to spend the day with you while you helped me organize my apartment.

I really wanted to hang out at Taste of Edmonton with you.

I really wanted to get together with you for that beer.

I really wanted to meet you at that bar and hear some great live tunes.

I really wanted to attend your wedding.

I really wanted to see you because you are important to me.

It's not you, it's me.

I know it's a cliche line used as a cop out to not actually tell a person you don't want to be around them. But, there are times where this line is absolutely the truth.

Since April I have been dealing with unwanted, and yet persistent, visitors. They're names are Depression and Migraine.

 Whether Migraine or Depression showed up first, I can't say. What I can say is that both Depression and Migraine tend to visit together, and they feed off each other. And they feed off my emotioals and physical energy. There have been times when I thought they had left, but it turns out they had simply retreated to the closet for a short time only to come sneaking out when I was least expecting them. I really do despise those two. They are sneaky and rude and just plain horrible to deal with, but they are in my life.

. I love people.

 I love talking,

 I love debating, 

I love learning about new people and new things.

I love dancing.

I love getting a bit tipsy.

I love chatting over a few beers.

I love seeing your new house.

I love BBQs.

I LOVE all these social things. They are a part of what drives me, what gets me up every morning and what I think about before I sleep.

The thing is, Depression drains my emotional energy to do these things. Migraine drains my physical energy to do these things. Together, they drain me of any kind of energy to do these wonderful, social, and fun things that I love with people I truly enjoy.

My career as a hairdresser requires a lot of energy and mostly the emotional kind. I am not complaining. I truly enjoy what I do and where I am at with it. I couldn't be happier! But it can be draining. I build relationships with each and every client who sits in my chair.  

When they are happy, I am happy. 

And when they are sad, I am sad. 

And everything in between.

My emotional out put on any given work day is usually quite high which leaves only a little bit of energy left for all those fun things I love to do.

That is the energy that I use for that house warming party, that dinner, that club night.

It's the same energy I use for organizing my apartment, seeing you get married, and having that beer.

Depression selfishly takes that energy from me until I have nothing left. I can find enough to do my job, most days, but finding that extra energy is proving to be difficult lately. Finding the energy to do more then sit in my apartment with my dog has been very hard lately.

 Depression is a complete asshole. 

I try to hold on to that energy and keep it from Depression, but I'm pretty sure Depression hits the gym every day and is therefore stronger then I am. ( For now. Depression doesn't know it, but I'm going to kick its ass very soon. For I too have been hitting the gym. )

This is why I did not attend your event that I really wanted to, and this is why I very seldom give a firm " Yes " when asked if I am attending something. I don't know how much of an ass Depression will be that day, so I go a day at a time.

The good news is that each time these two monsters visit, I learn how to kick them out sooner ( or at least put them in the dark corner of the closet with the spiders ). I learn how to keep more of my energy.

And I love you. 

You are very important to me.

And I know it may feel like I don't want to be around you. I am sorry for that, I truly am because that is not how I feel.

You are awesome!

And on those days when Depression and Migraine have retreated to the closet or left for a long, long vacation ( or forever ), I will dance my ass off with you.

I will drink all the beer with you.

I will warm your house like you wouldn't believe.

I will attend all the festivals and events with you.

I will eat more dinner then I can handle with you.

And I will spend my energy on you!

The " Older Women "

Trying to score a date with the older women: ( through a dating site. )

DO NOT!

- Don't start the conversation with a comment about her weight. Even if its meant as a compliment, as in " Losing weight?"  and then proceed to tell her you think she's pretty.

- When she asks about whether or not she was pretty before losing weight, do not answer with " Is this a touchy subject? "

- If you have multiple questions, try to keep them all in one message. Sending a new message for each question is annoying.

- Don't play the " I'm probably too young for you, " card. Trying to garner sympathy will not get you what you want. You'll only be perceived as a child.

- Do not ask " Do you think we could go on a date sometime? " Just ask if they'd like to go on a date. Don't play in hypotheticals. Also, don't add the word " please, " at the end of that question. No begging.

- If she doesn't reply to your messages right away, especially after she has mentioned that she is BUSY right now, do not send 12 more messages asking " Where'd you go? " or some version of that.



DO!

- Read her profile.

- Do have something written in your profile.

- Using the word 'gal' in reference to her is a good idea. ( At least for this gal it is. )

- Do ask about the things she likes. Such as baking or roller derby.

- Do have some good photos of you that don't involve a beer in your hand or another person.

- Be confident and don't mention the age difference unless she does.

- Do have a job.


This is the short list. The long list is long.


I have been inundated by messages from guys who are quite a bit younger then me in the last few months. We're talking 8 - 11 years younger. ( I'm only 32! ). Apparently, I am at the age where I am considered an " older women " for that age category ( 21 - 25 ).

I'm not completely sure how I feel about that.

Part of me is intrigued by the idea but the other part of me is quite sure that I would have nothing in common with any of them. I mean, they don't remember watching the Transformers on television or dancing to the Smashing Pumpkins at a high school dance. What could we possibly even talk about?

I guess we could just not talk.... * wink wink *

BEACHES!

I'm on beach.

Well, maybe not at this moment, but I could go to a beach right now if I wanted. Actually, I should.

That concludes this blog post. See ya!

Me and the brother thing. There's a beach in the back ground.

Just kidding. It's late and I'm a bit tired and you deserve some explanation here. I know you've been checking this blog every day for an update. 

You haven't? Oh...well, ok then.

We hiked ( climbed ) up this...

To get to this. Brahma Temple

Last time, I had just arrived in the wonderful town of Pushkar and I was in love. ( Still am ) I also reconnected with my little bro. After two weeks of him skiing in Gulmarg and that same time frame of me hopping around Rajasthan and hanging out with elephants, we bumped into each other in Pushkar. ( I saw bumped into each other like it was an accident. It wasn't an accident. ) We spent a few days hiking up enormous hills ( I call them mountains ) and riding through the desert, enjoying the sand dunes, and driving through Ajmer, a town of 425,000. Yes, I did say driving. If there was a time where a GoPro camera was needed, this was the time.

Dunes of Sand - that's what the sign said

The traffic here is like nothing else I could have even imagined. The rules are... well, drive on the left ( mostly ) and honk your horn a lot. That's about all I can make out. But I survived!

I've never ridden a scooter before, or a bike really, as I'm a bit afraid of it, but couldn't let that hold me back. I told the guy renting them that I knew exactly what I was doing. ( I'm not sure if he believed me, but he took my money anyway. )

Pushkar is a great little town, definitely one of the highlights of my trip.

See? I made it. That's Pushkar in the background.

From Pushkar, we made the long trek to the city formally known as Bombay. Now called Mumbai. Not sure if it went through a phase of calling itself by a symbol or not. ( Do you get the joke? I think it's hilariously witty of me to have come up with that. )

The trek to Mumbai included a 15 hour train journey and a 5 hour bus trip. That's not so bad. We are told we disembark in Udaipur and then catch the bus.

Sounds good to me. We purchase the tickets.

Wait a minute, that doesn't make sense. Udaipur isn't that far from Pushkar.... .... ....

OH WAIT! We got it wrong. It' a 5 hour train ride to Udiapur then a 15 hour bus ride to Mumbai.

F*%&#^#(@*%&^*#((@*%^*^#))!!!!!!

For any who know me well, me and things like bus rides do not do well together. I get severe motion sickness and the driving in India involves no anticipation. There's a whole bunch of speed up and quickly slow down. Speed up, quickly slow down, speed up.... It's making me queasy just thinking about it.

Udaipur, however, is a nice city with a few large lakes. We had time to do one site seeing visit and saw City Palace. I will say that it was a beautiful place, but I think that's sounding redundant in a country of beautiful places. It's a museum now but was once the home of the Marahajas in Udaipur.

Ceiling carving and painting, on the roof! 

I spent the next 15 hours sick, trying to sleep and in tears. The bus did not have a bathroom and the one stop I was able to get out at ( too sick to even move ) they had only squat toilets, no power in the bathrooms and they were filthy beyond anything I have ever seen. That was the last time I was willing to use those road side toilets.

Oh! And I had to puke out the window four times on this trip. FOUR!!!! Couldn't even keep water down. It was the absolute worst travel decision I have ever made in my life. And probably one of the worst nights of my life.

I'd like to tell you a bit about Mumbai....

But I can't....

Because I was sick for the whole 24 hour we were there. Curled into a ball, can't keep water down, running a fever sick. Worst day ever!!!!

But now!! I'm on a beach. I will tell you all about the beach and all the wonderful things here, in Anjuna, Goa, and how I got here, in my next post, entitled:

STILL HERE, BEACHES!!!!

Stay tuned. Same bat time. Same bat channel.

Well, that was unexpected.....

I just got high with an old Croation, his daughter, and two Indian guys, in India, on a roof top patio.

With this view of Pushkar.

Pushkar at sunset. 

More about that later.


I've been a bit amiss with this blog for two reasons:

1. Crappy, inconsistent internet at the guesthouse I was staying at in Jaipur. Although it was a very nice place and the family that ran the house were wonderful, the internet was just not cutting it. I would write a blog, get it all ready and try to publish it just to have the connection  cut out or for the signal to be too weak. I was able to do it from my phone but....and maybe I'm a little old school here....it just doesn't feel that same as typing on a keyboard. ( and 15 years ago, the same would have been said about typing on a keyboard compared to writing on paper. )

2. I was TIRED! As mentioned, the place I stayed at was lovely but there were a few things, things that are somewhat common to India, that made sleeping a challenge.

• The mattress was almost as hard as the wooden frame it rested on, and I am not exaggerating much.  
• The house was cold. If you want to build a house that stays cold during the summer, build it with a lot of marble and lots of openness. The entrance to the house itself was more of a gate then a door. There was no seal. Windows that didn't close. So, if it was cool outside, say 13 degrees, it was at least 13 degrees inside. Even during the day when the temperature was around 22 degrees, it was still about 13 degrees in the house. Made for a coupe very cold nights.
• Noisey. So, so noisey. Whether it was the family who stayed up late ( went to bend around 11 or 12 at earliest ), or just general noise from the outside ( you know, dogs barking, cars honking, monkeys screeching....the usual stuff. ), the openness of the house made it quite difficult to sleep.

Between those two things and the 430 am wake up. ( Didn't I mention that? Ooops ) it made for a very tired Victoria. I would usually come home from my time with the elephants ( which were so wonderful, by the way! ) and nap for half the day. Then get up and take a bit of a walk. I was also sick for a day or two in there. Tummy sick. Lots of time in the bathroom sick. You get the picture.

However, elephants!!! I met six elephants in total.

Gulab ( I was calling her Glad because I heard wrong. ), Chan Chal, Rupa, Rani, Sawtri, and Champa. Gulab lived out at the Elephant Village and was the first elephant I met. She was also the smallest. She's a 37 year old, 1800 kg beauty. : )

Gulab posing for me.

Rupa's hungry. Rupa's always hungry.

I then met the big girls, Rupa being the biggest and Champa being the oldes. ( 41 years old. She gets to retire in 7 years. Lucky girl. ) By far the friendliest and most entertaining was Rupa. She was the trunk in your face, trying to drink your tea and constantly opening her mouth for you to put more food into.

She also snorted the chapati flour off the ground. I think she's got a problem.

These girls were at least 2300 kg and stood much taller then Gulab. They were all sweet, wonderful beings. Completely different personalities. Chan Chal actually kept hiding behind a post every time I tried to take a photo of her.

She may have also just been itchy, but I choose to believe she was just being shy.

Sawtri is sleeping, still.

And Sawtri was a asleep almost everyday when I came in. The quiet mixed with the soft breathing of the elephants and punctuated by the occasional snore ( yes, elephants snore. ), combined with the 530 in the morning situation, made me just want to curl up, wrap a trunk around me and go to sleep.

!

Rupa and I!

Napping, being sick and elephants took up most of my time in Jaipur, but I did manage a bit of sight seeing, namely Amer Fort. And if you see one thing in Jaipur, make it Amer Fort. In my mind it rivals The Taj itself.

* GASP * I know!!!!!!!

How could something rival one of the seven wonders of the world? That can't be!

Oh, my friend, yes It can be.

Photos, as usual, cannot do justice to truly remarkable things. Well, some photos and some photographers can do justice, but not me with my Samsung Galaxy S4 for a phone. But, I'll post a few shots anyway, so you can get the idea.

Amer Fort/Palace from the road

Plaster work on the walls.

" Mirror Palace"

I could post a ton of pictures, but I won't.

Then, I left my elephants and Jaipur for the wonder that is Pushkar.

I took the public transit. It was dirty, long and hot.

It was also crowded an the whole time I was thinking " This better be worth it, "


And it is! It so much is!

Pushkar is nestled in the mountains of Rajasthan. And it's the Indian version of Nelson, B,C. If Nelson also had a lot of churches. It is the holy place and I believe that is why this place makes me feel instantly relaxed.

I'm an atheist, plain and simple, but I have always found religious structures ( even churches ) to provide a sense of peace within me and I marvel at the work that goes into creating these structures and monuments. Religions are fascinating.

I strolled the market, bought some pants, met a sweet old lady who loved my tattoos and visited the Brahma temple. Photos are not allowed, but I can tell you, it was beautiful.

All the colours, sights and sounds of a market.

Above mentioned sweet old lady.

And yet again, for the fourth time on this trip, I was swarmed!!!! First, by a group of about 20 teenage girls, all wanting pictures with me ( and so did their chaperones ). If I ever want to feel like a celebrity, I will just come back to India.

At least I think this must be what being a celebrity feels like, except with a lot more money and a private chef. My face actually began to get sore from smiling, that's how many photos these girls wanted to take.

I made my way back to the hotel and that is where the first sentence in this post comes in to play,

The people here are very relaxed, the energy is laid back and I think I will spend a few extra days here beyond the three I had initially planned. It's a wonderful break from the crowds and noise from the much larger cities.

Pineapple juice and a roof top patio!

A red head, a blonde, and brunette go for a walk in Delhi......

Their names are Holly ( England ), Lucille ( France ), and Victoria ( Canada )....

....
....
....

There's no punchline.  That's just what happened. 

I spent my last day in Delhi exploring some old ruins of a settlement and the Qutub Minar site. Besides the Qutub Minar ( tallest brick minaret in India ), the site includes numerous ancient mosques, tombs and a 1600 year old iron pillar that hasn't rusted.

I had planned to have more time to explore this area but we were side tracked by other ruins that were less crowded and  accessible along our walk.  I strolled through the ruins of an old settlement across from the Kamila-Jamila mosque. I saw an ancient swimming pool from the Lodhi Empire. All these things were just on our way,  in a park,  where families go to have a picnic and play cricket.

And that brings me to the people.  

The park was full with families and friend eating food and playing games,  mostly cricket.  Holly have us a basic rundown of hope cricket is played while we watched a match. I think I kind of understand it now.

Kind of.

A little bit.

Maybe.

And we met some people. 

A group of young girls came up to us. The one girl started asking us questions in English.  You could tell she was very excited to be able to speak English to us and her English was quite good,  considering.  I got the feeling that she would change the world someday,  or at least her country.

Of course,  photos were taken. Photos are always taken. 

Speaking of photos,  I got mobbed a couple times by groups of people,  mostly women and girls,  wanting photos of me and of me with them.  I got asked for my autograph once,  but declined because  I'M NOT FAMOUS! This must be what a celebrity feels like everywhere they go.  I happily obliged and made a point of smiling when I caught random people trying to sneak photos of me.

This isn't the first time similar has happened.  The first time was in Pahalgam after riding a pony to the to of the mountain.  A couple young men chatted with me and then asked for photos.

The second time was when Holly and I visited Jantar Mantar. We were surrounded by a group of young people who took every combination of photos with us they could find. 

And it happened three times yesterday in Delhi at the Archeological sights.

And it's not just one photo they want.  They take every conceivable version of the photo they can.  Switching members of their group in and out.

It's a bewildering experience. 

I met a 37 year old, 1800 kg lady this morning,  but I'll talk about her tomorrow.

The people!!!!

The people!

OH GOD!

So MANY PEOPLE!

They're everywhere! It never stops!


Welcome to New Delhi. Truly a city that never sleeps. And I mean never! Vegas has got nothing on this place.

My hostel sits on a service road beside a fairly busy main road. The honking never stops.

My hotel address. Makes perfect sense.

Ever. Never stops.

You get used to it after a bit but it also makes me miss my boring, fairly quiet street in Edmonton. And I live downtown Edmonton, in the ghetto, where there's a fight outside on a weekly basis and the police re no strangers. That should tell you something.

I also miss my dog.

Moving on!!

New Delhi is an interesting experience and vastly different then Kashmir and even Agra. That's where The Taj Mahal is located, remember? That's ok, I barely remember it as well.


Went for a walk along Chandni Chowk, yesterdaym a very old and famous market here. And there were people! Everywhere! Crushing you!

Chandni Chowk during a quiet moment.....

This guy, he's spicey.

I visited the oldest spice market in Chandni Chowk. It was established in 1917, nearly 100 years old and it's quite famous. Bought some spices, as that's what one does at a spice market. Mmmm, spices. The man helping me showed me some photos of famous people who had gone there, including Dan Brown. ( The novelist....DaVinci Code.... ). I grabbed some delicious street food and decided I needed to get out of there. There was a small window of time that I could handle the crush of people until I needed to go, NOW!


Then, I took the metro. Even more of a crush of people. It never ends!!!!








Today I made a new friend, Holly from England. Holly and I went on adventures together, including buying saris and spending more money then we should. We saw a few monuments and spent a bit of time in the Sikh temple, Bangla Sahib. I have a facination with religions and religious rituals. I sat through a Sikh prayer, along with chanting and drums

The chanting and the carpeted floors always seem to bring an instant calm to me, something I needed after a few busy, people filled days. I sat and I closed my eyes and allowed the chanting and the noise to quiet my mind.

Then there were drums!!! Loud, booming drums which punctuated parts of what the Guru was chanting and saying. It loved every moment of it and would have stayed for hours had I not been with others. The prayers last all day, beginning at 4 am and going until 11 pm. Each Guru takes a 2 hour 'shift' of praying and chanting. The gathered members chant along. I wish I could have known what was being said. I have decided to do some research on Sikhism.

Oh, and Sikh men are really quite attractive and bearded, always bearded. See a trend here????

Note to self: Being an atheist does not mean you can't enjoy religious rituals such as chanting.

Gooooold. Inside Bagla Sahib Temple.

This temple serves three meals a day to whomever would like or need it and there appear to be many in the area that need that.

We also met a random man in the metro who became a seudo guide for us during the day. I was waiting for the hammer to fall, for him to ask us to buy something. But he didn't. It was a wonderful day filled with wonderful people.

And a lot of walking.

And I'm tired.


zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Quirky Kashmir ( or The Silliness of Srinagar )

Or whatever else you choose to call this. I'll probably come up with something really awesome in about 6 hours.

I just wanted to point out a few interesting, quirky or odd things that I noticed during my time in Kashmir. Do with them what you will. ( Which will probably be nothing. )

There's no perforation on the toilette paper ( if there is any TP at all. Good thing I brought some with me. Thanks for the tip, Ragnar. ) If there is no toilette paper, you use a spray nozel, like the one you might find on your sink to help you rinse off dishes. The water is always just above freezing. Just imagine that on your, well, you know what.

If you're an autobody technician or a welder you are called a Body Builder. ( No joke. )

There is a town just outside of Srinagar whose whole industry it seems is to make and sell cricket bats. Just cricket bats. For all of India.

Apparently the stuff in this truck really won't burn.

This shit is never going to go up in flames.

The prevalence of English signs and advertisements. They're every where and more common then the local language. ( This is a general India thing, not specific to Kashmir. )


It seems that everyone works at a convenience store that sells the same thing as the one next to it. But each store give you " GREAT DEALS!"


There are sidewalks. No one walks on them. Walking on the road is the preference.


Goats hang out on the roof. No one cares.

The Devil's spawn indeed.

The region is called Jammu and Kashmir. Everything is labeled J&K or JK. I can't stop thinking that it stand for just Kidding.


Kashmir is highly militarized. There are soldiers everywhere and security check points where they will actually check you vehicle. It's a very serious business, except for this one soldier who smiled at me multiple time while checking the vehicle I was in. He was super cute too!


Speaking of super cute, a good portion of the men in Kashmir and quite attractive and wonderfully bearded. Something about their jaw lines, nose and skin tone is really sexy.


I went through 7 ( no exaggeration ) security check points to get on my flight to fly out, the first being before even entering the airport. Each one involves either a electronic screen of your baggage or a manual check by a very serious soldier. One almost didn't let me take my combination lock with me. ITS A DAMNED LOCK! Funny enough, they only looked at my passport twice. They don't care who I am as long as I'm not bringing dangerous stuff with me.

There are lots of birds. Birds everywhere. Even in the airport.


THE END

I'm laying in bed ( on the same wonderfully old house boat I mentioned yesterday) and have just finished listening to the Imam chant the evening prayer.

Yes. Laying in my bed listening to the evening prayer.

No, the house boat in not floating in a mosque.

The thing I particularly love about Muslim countries and locales ( I say that like I visit them all the time ) is the prayers. The mosques, using speakers, broadcast the prayers for everyone to hear. It was one of the first things I remember about Istanbul and when I left, I missed it. I had forgotten about it until I arrived here. I have no idea what is being chanted and I am the complete opposite of a Muslim ( and of a Christian, and of a Jew, and of most religions you can think of ) but I just love these prayers and the fact they they are projected for all to hear. Every time I hear them I smile, and I will miss them again.

I saw a very interesting side of Kashmir today, the rural areas. And when I say rural, I mean people carrying bags of rice on the heads and sheep being tended by shepherds. I saw a couple guys plucking dead chickens on the side of the road.

This view. Those tiny houses is where I started.

No, I did not die although there were times I wondered if I was being taken out to the woods to be given as a wife to some stranger. Things just kept getting more and more rural but, funny enough, every one had a cell phone. Go figure. It really struck me at how rural these places were and how almost exactly the same each little village was. When the news shows pictures of villages is war town countries, that is exactly what these looked like. Come to think of it, Kashmir has a had a long history of wars. Click the link to read about it's facinating history.

I took a day trip out to Pahalgam, a small but popular tourist destination way up in the mountains and away from most civilization as I know it ( except for the cell phones ). I went specifically to ride a shaggy pony up the side of a mountain to see this beautiful clearing at the top and a stunning view of the Lidder Valley

Damn I make this pony and pahrin look good.

I'm not going to go into detail too much about this area because Wikipedia does is so much better, so here's the link if you're interested.

This is Geetin, ( I think that;s right ). He accidentally took a selfie.

I also had a guide on my trip up the mountain. That's how I got this wonderful picture of myself and the shaggy pony.




On the way up to Pahalgam, we stopped at the ancient Hindu Avantisvami Temple.It was built by King Avantivarman of Utpala between the years 853 and 883 A.D. This particular temple was dediated to the Hindu God Lord Vishnu. There another, nearly identical temple near by, built during the same time, dedicated to Lord Shiva. It is composed of one main alter, dedicated to Lord Vishnu and four smaller alters dedicated to other, lesser gods.

Oh yeah! Old Stuff!

We all know how much I love ancient history!! ( Or maybe you don't know that. BUT IT DO! ) So, this was definitely a high light of the day.

Relief carving of Lord Vishnu himself.

Carvings of the nine planets. ( or so I'm told )

What I found really interesting was seeing the technology they were using at the time to build these structures. In this picture over here.
( Yes, right there, to the right! ) shows the groove and peg technology of the time. Truly a marvel when you think of what they were working with.



AAANNNDDD! I lost the inernet last night and that is why this is being posted in the morning.

I wanted to post more but I've got to get going. I have a few silly little things to tell you about.

Another day?

The last few days have been....Well.... less then ideal. After visiting Agra, where I was slapped in the face with a huge culture shock,  we arrived in Srinagar, Kashmir in northern India. 

I was slapped even harder. 

I thought I was being stared at in Agra, but here,  I initially felt like a freak show.

Kashmir is a predominantly Muslim state.  About 90% of the people here are devoutly Muslim,  the other 10% Hindu. This means women cover their heads.  As a non-muslim I arrived without my head covered. I was acutely aware of being the only Caucasian women on the flight into Srinagar, the Kashmiri capital, and I believe I am the only white women within an hour flight of here. 

I now know what it's like to be a visible minority and to be stared at because of that. It a feeling of both amusement and annoyance.

The staring I can deal with, it was the ignoring that I couldn't. 

Wait, did I just say I was being ignored as well as being stared at?  How is that possible?  Let me explain. 

I am traveling with my brother.  The people we have been interacting with have addressed questions and comments to only my brother. This includes the taxi driver,  hotel workers in Gulmarg ( small little town ) and the waiter who served my brother food first,  nearly taking the spoon out of my hand as I reached to serve myself. They've introduced themselves to only my brother as I stand there.

In Agra, this happened but on a less obvious scale.  Here in Kashmir, it's more pronounced. And it's a bit upsetting.

We traveled to a small skiing town called Gulmarg. I am almost certain I am the only white women many of the people here have ever seen. The hotel was very rustic.  Think log cabin with wood heat level of rustic with a bed that felt like a plank of wood ( which I had to share with my brother. Ewwww! )

I hated it and I couldn't get warm.

So.....cold....so very cold.

So, I decided to leave and head to New Delhi. My brother wants to ski so he's staying in Gulmarg. But that meant I had to spend a day in Srinagar, by myself,  before my flight left. That should be interesting.

And interesting it is.

Was the taxi guy and his friend flirting with me? ( The driver even sang one of his favourite songs ) Did the guys at the hotel ask to add me on Facebook?  ( Yes they did. ) Did that man at the check point say hello to me?  ( He sure did.  ) So what gives here?

I have a theory involving two parts:

First,  my brother is not around.

Second,  I covered my head.

It's like magic.  All I had to do was ditch my brother and cover my head. It was that easy.

I'm currently lying on a bed on a house boat located on Dal Lake in Srinagar. It's a hostel I booked for the night.  When I arrived,  I felt like I was being welcomed into a home. The manager and his father warmly greeted me,  serving me tea and cookies. Sitting on the floor,  we talked for a bit and they showed me to my room.  It's old but completely welcoming.

It has a wood burning stove for heat and this adorable little vanity and mirrors.

The manager not only arranged but accompanied me on a sight seeing tour. I spent too much money on a hand made Kashmir wool carpet and hand embroidered pashmina, but I consider it worth it. I learned how the carpets were made. The size I bought takes over a year to make with the larger ones taking up to 4 years.  Just for one carpet! I'll go into more detail on this later.

And guess what I decided to do? 

Stay another day!

I know,  crazy white girl in a Muslim state,  but Srinagar has kind of grown on me and I'd like to see a little bit more. 

Hijacked Edition: I'm in INDIA!

Camel butt including camel diaper.

I'm in India! And I'm hijacking this this blog because I'm too lazy to start a new one for this trip and, well, you all already know it's here. Besides, India is much more exciting then my dating life right now.



We're not in Alberta anymore, R'lyeh. ( Wizard of Oz reference. No, my dog is not with me.)

Things I have learned in the past 24 hours in India:


1. I look like a Bollywood actress, apparently.

 I've heard exactly that twice in the last 24 hours. First from a guy who was 'helping' us out the night we arrived. (More on why there are quotations later.) And once from a tuk tuk* driver earlier this evening.

Maybe that's why people keep staring at me.

Women stare at me. Men stare at me. Children stare at me. No one is shy about it. They stare to the point that their heads turn nearly all the way around as they walk past. I was told this would happen. I thought I was prepared for it. I was not. I try to ignore it.



2. My body functions fairly well when running on no sleep for 31 hours. 

Hurray!

 My brain, unfortunately, does not.  People will  and do take advantage of that.

The aforementioned helper (refer to lesson # 1 ) was one of those people. To make a long story short, neither mine nor my brother's brain was working when a cab driver told us we could not get to our hotel because the road was closed.

Why was it closed?

Because Barack Obama is coming to visit (true) and there have been threats to his security ( could be true. Hard to verify but not unbelievable. ) so the police have closed some streets completely to everyone and one of those streets is where my pre-booked hotel is located ( I guess that's believable. The hotel is in a popular area of Delhi ). And all the hotels in Delhi are completely booked up unless I want to spend the equivalent of 500$ a night ( wait a second, that's a little fishy sounding, but ok ).

So, the cab driver took us to a " tourist information center " open at 1 am. ( Really?! Brain? Does that makes any sense? )

Long story short, the guy there got us a hotel room in Agra and arranged a driver to take us there, drive us around and get us back to Delhi for our flight to Kashmir for a great low price! (Now that I think of it, my brain must have completely switched off by this point. The price isn't bad, if I was in Canada!)

The kicker? Obama isn't going to be in Delhi until January 27!

Thanks Obama and thanks brain.




3. The Taj Mahal is an elaborate set of four tombs.

I'm completely serious. Shah Jahan built what is commonly refered to as the Taj Mahal ( the white dome building ) to honour his third (or second, depending on who you talk to) wife, Mamtaz Mahal, but there are three other tombs in the complex. One for each of his other three wives. And all four tombs is what is actually the Taj Mahal. The more you know!

Why did one wife get an elaborate, white marble tomb with precious stone inlay and white and black diamonds ( which the British stole when they arrived. What jerks! ) ensconced in the ceiling?

Because he loved her the most.

Why did he love her the most?

Because she gave birth to 14 children!!! The last of which killed her and only 6 survived beyond infancy.

To recap. To get a man to really really love you, have lots of babies, make sure most of them die and then make sure the final one kills you.

Cynicism about true love and having babies to please a man aside, the Taj Mahal is truly a beautiful place to visit. Pictures do not and could never do it any true justice. The architectural design of it is a wonder. The domes rely purely on weight and angles to stay up as here are no pillars or beams holding them. It's main building is pure white marble that came from a quarry 450 km (please don't quote me on that exact number) from Agra and was brought by elephants and camels (careful, they spit!). There are carvings and precious stone inlays that were all done by hand. It took 22 years to complete and I would imagine most of that time was spent inlaying the precious stones are carving the ornate decorations on the walls.

This! This is what I'm talking about.

OH! and the architect that designed the buildings had his thumb and forefingers on each hand removed after completion so he could never make anything more beautiful.** I was assured that he was paid very well, well enough that six generations of his descendants lived quite well off the money. Those descendants still work with marble and precious stones and we were able to visit their shop and see how it was done. It's a very simple process but very precise.

I couldn't do it. Imagine spending hours upon hours (we're talking days here!) getting a precious stone ground down to the perfect size and shape you want just to have it break at the last moment. I'd Hulk smash every thing at that point.

I also bought some work from this shop. ( A set of six marble coasters ) My brother thinks I got ripped off. I think the price I paid for them was fair ( under 60$ CDN ) I think we have differing ideas of what ripped off means.




4. The drivers here drive like I drive in GTA:5. 

No joke. The only difference is that they are better at avoiding accidents and pedestrians then I am, and they drive on the opposite side of the road.

They also don't shoot random bystanders for fun.

From what I can tell, the only rule is to honk your horn often so everyone else knows you're there.


What an amazing place!!! Even if you include the getting a bit ripped off ( Yes, I know you warned me and yes, I've learned my lesson. )



* tuk tuk = auto rickshaw. If you don't know what a rickshaw is, google it. In fact, you can even google tuk tuk. So the asterisk is really not needed, but I'll leave it anyway.

** note to self and anyone else who wants to take note: Never do something so well for someone ( especially someone who can have your fingers chopped off ) that people don't want you to do better. Always stay slightly below that level of awesome. )


   

I

I'm awkward around guys I like.
I try to be flirty and cute.
I try to show interest without being annoying.
I can be vague about my interest because I don't want to be annoying.

After sex I get really sleepy and relaxed.
Maybe this comes off as uninterested or upset.
I'm just completely relaxed and my brain is in a haze.

I'm sarcastic.
I can be too sarcastic.
I scare people away because I'm too sarcastic.
I don't NEED a man in my life, I want one to share my life with.
Men want to be needed.
I can't provide that.

I'm very easy going.
I don't care what we do, just that we do something.
I like companionship.
I like being around someone.
I like having someone to hug me
I like have someone to kiss.
I like having someone to cuddle with and laugh with.

I want to be loved.
I want to be loved for me.
I want to love someone.

Maybe I put out something completely different,
Maybe I can appear cold, unemotional, uninterested.
And I can be guarded and closed off.
I don't trust easily.
I've learned my lessons in that area.

I'm quite possibly undateable.

He's 6'4

My ex's name is Ben
He's 6'4
He was/is 3 years younger then me.

Keep the above information in mind as I review this date.

Date review
Date #1

Who: The Manager
Where: Beer Revolution
When: A few days ago
What: Beers and talking
Beard Potential: Good, and it would be a ginger beard too, but he doesn't like having a beard ( this can be worked on though )
Sexiness level: Off the charts! ( He's 6'4 )

Have you ever just clicked with someone on every level?

Ever been tempted to just go to Berlin with someone that night?

Ever not wanted the night to end?

Ever felt so insanely attracted to someone that making out in the middle of the restaurant sounds perfectly logical?

Ever meet someone that you could see yourself falling in love with?

I have.

And he's a 6'4 red head named Ben who is 3 years older then me.
I should buy a lottery ticket.
I had forgotten how tall 6'4 is and how incredible sexy I find tall men and how much I love being next to them.
Moving on

The Date

I walk into Beer Revolution. I don't see him. I figure it should be easy to spot a 6'4 man who wears this certain kind of hat ( yes, hat although I didn't know whether to expect the hat ) but a hat that, at least from the pictures, looks great!

Just as I'm about to send him a text, I get a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and look into a face that instantly made me smile. I hugged him. I have never hugged any one on first meeting. I'm not much of a hugger in general and I'm particular in who I hug. But in this moment, a hug needed to happen.

Did I mention he's 6'4?

He's wearing a hat. This hat.

This hat could actually be the exact hat he was wearing.

Now, this hat works for some and not for others.

For him, it works! Does it ever work! ( Slightly different then Robot Man's hat )

He did his university in Montreal. I think a bit of that Montreal style rubbed off on him. Holy hell!

We get a table, order a couple beers. I already kind of want to make out with him.
I ask him what he did that day.

He tells me he went for coffee with a friend and then played a board game. ( I made this smaller because he kind of looked away and said this quietly as if embarrassed. ) Little does he know, I LOVE BOARD GAMES! I tell him this.

We get talking. I can't even exactly remember what about. About everything and nothing and it was so comfortable, so easy, so...so....right.

He's really into movies. Not Hollywood movies, but good movies. He kind of laughs at my love of Tarantino movies and stylized violence.

I did mention that he's 6'4, right?

He loves watching baseball ( I don't ) and it's on the TV's at the bar. Never once did he watch the game until I out right asked him how watching baseball could be fun. We discuss it, he explains to me how exciting it can be. He talks about the stats a bit. By this point I am completely willing to sit down and watch a baseball game with him and have him explain the excitement to me.

He beats his hands on the table every now and then to the music playing, looks around and does this thing where he re-positions his hat on his head every now and then.

We reminisce about the 90's and high school. He tells me an embarrassing story. It's cute. I tell him about being weird and inadvertently breaking hearts in high school.

We rag Limp Bizkit and Green Day. He figures my hate for Nickelback means I secretly actually love them. I'm disgusted.

He mentions travelling. We talk about travelling. He would love to do a middle-America road trip...on a motorcycle. My heart skips a beat.

He has plans to go to Germany. I mention I feel like I should live in Berlin. He picks up his phone and says " Let's go. I'll buy tickets. They're what, only 1200$? " He's kidding, of course, but the idea of just taking off to Germany with this guy seems completely normal.

He tells me about drinking Guiness in Ireland. I tell him about backpacking through Turkey. We both LOVE Paris!

He drinks his beer much quicker then I do. This is mainly because I talk and forget to the drink.
He waits for me to catch up.

He's 6'4.

We sat for four hours, just talking and laughing.

He mentions that he thinks the couple sitting right beside us is listening to our conversation because they're not having one of their own. We both kind of laugh about that. ( It's quite possible they were listening. )

He offers to walk me home ( I live 5 blocks away ). That means he needs to walk me home and then walk back for his vehicle. I am trying to not grin like an idiot and also trying to not just jump on him. We start walking to my place, he asks me if I'm cold. I say yes. He suggests he drive me.

We make out in the The Suby ( he owns a Subaru ).

He's an amazing kisser. This is incredibly important.

Not even 15 minutes later, before I'm even in bed, he sends me a text.

" What are you doing tomorrow night? "

I'm in my house so I can now smile like an idiot. And that's what I am doing right now while writing this.

I could see myself falling in love with this man.

He's also 6'4.