The Number

The Number


I recently talked with my girlfriends about our numbers. This number is the actual number of men with whom you’ve 'gone all the way' with. This number does not include all of the men you’ve made out with, fooled around with or even just kissed. If it did, I’m sure we’d all have become nuns by 25. This is a sensitive topic for pretty much any woman, but after some probing women will tend to let it slip usually after a few glasses of wine. These conversations always contain a few of these style of comments: “Oops...oh yeah, and him too, I forgot about that one!” My one friend actually had to do a tally sheet and then sent me random messages throughout the following week or so adding the forgotten men to her list.

If your number is too low when approaching your late (late) 30’s, it’s probably because you were married for quite some time or still are. If your number is too high, you’re one of two things: a 'career girl' with an hourly red light special, or you’ve been single off and on since the 80’s.
There’s a fine line between too high of a number and too low of a number. Apparently, men lie about their numbers more than women. We’ve all heard the math “when a guy tells you he’s been with 10 women, add 5 and multiply it by 2” Is this true for women as well? I think as women we tend to negotiate our numbers with ourselves a bit. We say things like “he doesn’t count because it was only 2 minutes from start to finish” or “I was too drunk to remember that so it doesn’t count”. We’ve all said those types of things in an effort to forget our regrets or those bad moments in time of which we’d rather just wipe out of our minds.

I’m quite aware of my number and I can recall all of their names (given some time and a couple of drinks). Ok, that was a joke. Yes, I know who they all were and I have only 1 regret in the list. I can rest easy in the fact that I’ve been accountable for my actions and never did anything I knew I’d regret. Except that one ridiculous time. Actually, I bumped into my one regret about 3 weeks ago at a local pub. That was a tad bit uncomfy to say the least. He was staring at me across the room and I was trying to avoid making eye contact. I subtly pointed him out to my friends who also noted his eye darts in my direction. He’s attempted another shot at the gold a few times over the last few years, but I have shot him down and foiled all of his attempts. Poor guy, in a strange way I sort of felt sorry for him.  The fact is that it was clumsy, bad and awkward but for some reason his memory of the evening varies greatly from mine.

I don’t go backwards. I keep my head up and focus on the end result while moving forward.
I will say though, that when you leave the single digits and move into the double digit numbers, you definitely start to ponder your past, present and your future. Some girls move into the double digits when they are still way too young to even know what life’s about. That is just a sad fact.
I was not one of those girls. I respected myself enough because I have a wonderful mother who was open & approachable about these things.  I also had amazing friends in highschool (yes, Charlene you kept me safe many times over!) and they would always tell me to wait until I was in love.
And a sidenote to all of my friends from back then, I did wait until I was in love. Another thing I do not regret.

So now here I am at 38 years old, and my closest friends are also single women. Some have been married, some have not; some have children, some do not. It doesn’t matter much really; we are all in the same situation and we are together. No matter how many men we’ve slept with, no matter how many men we’ve dated, we are all looking for the same thing. We are all looking to find someone to share with, laugh with, party with, cuddle with and all of the other amazing and fun things that go along with a close friendship and partnership in life. Friendship is the key that opens many doors. 
Live long and prosper !

Two Eyes: Sunny Side Up

Two Eyes Sunny Side Up


So once upon at time, I made a date. It was not the first blind date I had from the dating site, but it was certainly one of my most memorable.

We spoke on instant messaging for a long time which equals about 3 months in the cyber dating world. I was randomly dating here and there, and so was he. The time finally came when both of us were ready to actually meet each other. We had talked so often, that even his kids spoke to me in cyber space and wanted us to meet. That was a bit too much for my liking, but I had no control over that. Believe it or not, some men actually feel the need to push their kids onto women they meet almost immediately. I will touch more on that subject later.

We decided to meet at a local popular chain restaurant in town. It was not too expensive and very casual so it would work well. He asked if he could pick me up and I agreed to let him know where I lived due to the lengthy conversations that we had. I saw no harm in that (BIG mistake).

He arrived in a car that I’m sure was top of the line in 1985, but had long ago lost all sense of cleanliness and more importantly safety. I let it slide as I’m not a material girl by any standards. It’s what is in the heart that matters. He had told me that he weighed anywhere up to 220lbs which was a bonus because I like bigger and broader men.  The man before me could not have been more than 140lbs soaking wet. The second big red flag was when I spotted the fanny pack, which may as well have been a neon pink polka dot scrunchie on his head.  Yes girls...a fanny pack.

In my head, I heard air raid sirens going off. We sat down and ordered drinks and dinner. I noticed that he was extremely fidgety and nervous and strangely enough sounded exactly like Al Pacino.  Every time I looked down at the table in order to avoid being overly friendly, I had to look up to confirm that he was indeed not Al Pacino.

We spoke and made very limited eye contact due to first date jitters. The food came. At this point I did not feel the butterflies, the vibe, the happy feeling, or the spark that you we are always hoping for, but I was there and there was nothing I could do but ride it out. I felt nothing.

All of the sudden and out of nowhere, I noticed "it" staring at me.  How had I missed it?!?
He was eating his dinner and when he would look down, "it" would keep looking at me. "It" was his right eye. I tried not to look at it but it was like the more I tried, the more I would look. This behaviour of course made him think he was charming the pants off of me.

So why was it looking at me when he was looking downwards at his food? I could no longer hear the words coming out of his mouth.  I could only focus on my thoughts of "It".
Did it have a mind of its own? Was it stalking me with its gaze or was it like a magic 8 ball eye which could predict my fortune? Did it possess super powers like x-ray vision?
I had to get out of there. I had already noted all the emergency exits and had my one hand on my purse. Oh Crap!!! He drove.
I ate my pasta as fast as I could possibly eat it, and then gave up and said I was going to doggie bag the rest. Beep Beep. My cell phone went off with a text message from a friend. It was not planned, but she may have just saved me from the Super Stalker 8 Ball Eyeball. I told him that she was fighting with her husband, and was on her way to my house to cry on my shoulder. I asked him if he’d mind leaving immediately and taking me home to meet her. I lied.  I should've won an Oscar for my performance.
After he dropped me off, I let him and the eye roll off into the sunset and we never saw each other again.

Rule Number 3: always bring your own escape plan or car.