Dating Archives - Page 6 of 16

Since writing this post several of you have reached out and requested more dating, sex and relationship stories. I often don’t write in real time, so here’s one from my personal vault – circa a few years ago.

Recently, a friend and I were discussing the topic of hooking up with people in other countries.A few minutes into the discussion I realized that my foreign boot-knocking experience is actually surprisingly limited. I never did the whole backpacking through Europe thing (everyone who did, seems to have some story about hooking up with a hot Spanish dude in a hostel), I’ve never been to an all inclusive resort and I was too broke in university to spend a semester abroad. All of my international travelling has been done with family, my ex, or through my old job. In other words, I’ve just never had a romance abroad – at least not the kind that would inspire a 1980’s Taster’s Choice commercial.

(Anyone who grew up in the 80’s remembers Jean-Luc)

I explained to her, “I’ve never slept with a foreigner. Kissed, flirted with – yes. Sex, no. Well, unless you count The Russian.”

“I feel like there’s a good story here, Simone.”

I then proceeded to tell her exactly what I’m about to tell you.

I met the Russian on my first trip back to Toronto after I left in 2011. The Russian wasn’t actually Russian per se. He was from another former Soviet country, close to where my ancestors are from and had been living in Canada for several years, working as an exec for a successful Canadian company.

I was out for drinks with one of my best friends in Toronto at a bustling restaurant-bar in the Financial District. We hadn’t seen each other since I had left for the West Coast, however it only took a few minutes and a vodka martini (or three) before we were chatting up a storm like not a day had passed. Although the friend I was with that night very much a savvy, whip-smart, self-made woman, she has a tendency to attract, date and socialize with wealthy, high-roller types. She’s also one of the most fearless and confident people I know. So, I wasn’t surprised when an older, moneyed guy and his younger, noticeably attractive friend stopped by our table to say hi.

“Simone, this is ____ (older guy), he’s the CEO of _________ (insert well known Canadian company) and he dated ________(our friend)”

Then, she introduced The Russian.

“Simone, this is ______ (typical Russian name). He’s originally from ________ (insert former-Soviet country.) Typical Russian Name, Simone’s relatives are originally from your country. You guys should talk” she said with a wink.

She didn’t miss a beat before suggesting that the guys buy us a couple of rounds of drinks.

There was no doubt that The Russian was very handsome. He looked like a younger, better looking Mikhail Baryshnikov (my very first celebrity crush): sandy blonde hair, square jaw and blue almond shaped eyes that radiated just the right amount of mischief and sex appeal. Like many of the men on my Mom’s side of the family, he was built like a reverse triangle: broad shoulders, lean and muscular.

Later, when I showed a photo of The Russian to my best-friend, she commented, “He looks like the kind of guy you’d meet on an Olympic podium, not in real life.” She wasn’t far off.

So, when the guys asked us if we’d like to accompany them to their next location, it was a no brainer. A few minutes later we were all hanging out at a very swanky hotel bar known for being a popular hangout for investment banker types, celebrities and high-end escorts alike.

While my friend chatted with CEO guy, The Russian and I were huddled close together at the bar, our legs touching. Although my friend has dated quite a few Russian and Ukrainian guys over the years, I explained that I had never really dated anyone who shared this part of my cultural background.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I don’t know that many Russian, Ukrainian or Polish people outside of my own family. The guys that I have met, always tell me I look like I could be their sister.”

(This is true. My friend’s Ukrainian ex and I look like we could easily be related.)

“You’re beautiful. Not anything like sister to me.” he replied with a wink.

A few hours and quite a few vodkas later, The Russian suggested we all head back to his condo and continue the party there. Back at his place – a sparsely furnished, slick condo on the waterfront; my friend and CEO Guy talked business while The Russian and I vigorously made out in the kitchen. It had been months upon months since I’d had any physical contact from the opposite sex and let’s face it – he was hot. Although the free-flowing vodka definitely didn’t hurt, it wasn’t just the alcohol that was making me feel intoxicated, it was the Russian – the way he smelled (like freshly washed laundry), the feeling of my hands running through his hair, his lilting accent as he whispered in my ear that he thought I was sexy. We had chemistry. This much was clear.

“I’ve never seen you like this!” my friend told me, once I’d been able to pry myself from The Russian’s lips long enough to come up for air.

“You mean single?”

“Well, yeah…and like, clearly ready to mingle!” she replied with a raised eye-brow.

It’s true, this is one of the first times we’d hung out since my big break-up a few months before and the first time she’d ever seen me with my arms wrapped around anyone other than my ex.

When things in the kitchen started to get particularly heated, the Russian and I moved our make-out session into his bedroom where we quickly became a tangle of naked limbs atop of his bed. He tore off my panties and proceeded to go down on me with such precision and vigour that it wasn’t long before I lost my breath as my back was arched in pleasure.

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This is a post written by my friend Sara Stringer, a freelance writer based in Southern California. I hope you enjoy her post!

For some reason, many people seem to believe that online dating is a completely different animal from the garden variety kind. The first mistake is thinking that there is a garden variety kind of dating. There are as many configurations of dating as there are people. The second mistake is thinking that online dating is anything new.

Back in the day, dating via correspondence was quite common. One might even say that it was the precursor to online dating. Back when we wrote with tapered, pointy cylinders called “pens”, we sometimes wrote personal letters to strangers known as “pen-pals”. When adults formed pen-pal relationships, it often led to dating, then to marriage. It was the equivalent of playing chess by mail vs. turn-based chess online. Different technology, same result.

Online dating is still dating, and the same, common sense rules apply. For the safest, most enjoyable experience, you will keep these things in mind:

Bars and Churches, Choose Wisely

What do bars and churches have in common? They are major hubs for seeking dates. In the real world, you have to decide what type of partner you are looking for. Do you want the kind of man that frequents bars, or the kind that goes to church. For the moment, let us just ignore the large cross-section of the two.

Once you have made that decision, you quickly come to the reality that not all bars, and not all churches are created equally. Selecting the best hunting grounds can be quite difficult.

When it comes to online dating, the challenge is the same. With what seems like thousands of dating communities to choose from, it is difficult to know which is best. Fortunately, there are places online that offer reviews of the top sites for dating. Having access to professional and user-based reviews really comes in handy for knowing which sites it is worth creating profiles on. If only bars had signs that said, “Beer, 4-stars. Dating, don’t bother!”

Letting Your Freak-Flag Fly

Let’s not go into details about your kinks. I don’t want to know. The one who does want to know is the person you plan to date. At some point, the two, or three of you (however that flag swings) might end up being intimate. You want someone who shares, or at least appreciates your kinks.

In the real world, this can be challenging. We tend to not wear signs announcing the fact that we have some type of fetish, let alone disclosing the particular variety. These disclosures are tentatively made only after a relationship has begun. Guessing wrong about your partner’s tolerances and inclinations could be disastrous.

This is not a problem online. There are so many dating sites to choose from it is a trivial matter to locate a community that caters exclusively to your particular kink. Because of the anonymity of the Net, you can lead with an honest description of what you like and what you are looking for. You don’t have to worry about being judged. And you can be sure that your partner shares your interests. The key is to be honest and upfront. Online, lying is not necessary for finding a date.

Safety in Numbers

Ever been on a blind date? Was your first meeting with that person at their house, a hundred miles from anywhere? Of course not! You don’t know this person from an ax murderer. You meet in public spaces with lots of witnesses.

Dating online, especially for a long period of time, might give you the false sense of knowing a person. You don’t. No matter how many photos you have exchanged, no matter how many secrets shared, you can’t be certain if any of it is real. The safest course of action is to treat it like a blind date.

The spirit of online dating is nothing new. It is quite legitimate. And it can lead to all the joy and heartache experienced by people without an Internet connection.

About the Author: Sara is freelance writer. When she’s not writing, she enjoys maintaining a healthy lifestyle through swimming and practicing yoga.

When you start to approach your mid-thirties and the topic of “eggs” comes up, it usually goes in this direction: “I wonder how many I have left?” “I don’t want to reach the point where mine go bad. Aren’t you worried about that?” “Should I freeze them?” However, I’m here today to talk about eggs of a different kind: mainly those of the hardboiled variety.

Yes, this is a post about hard boiled eggs.

(I was hanging out with a friend the other day and when she heard my thoughts on hardboiled eggs, she encouraged me to share them in a post. So, here we go.)

I’m not exactly a picky eater. I’ll eat almost anything once (like that time I ate raw Geoduck – a local variety of clam that basically looks like it has a giant, uncircumcised penis attached to it. Fitting, I know) and I don’t have very many hang ups when it comes to food. If I don’t eat something very often (like steak) it’s because my body has a hard time digesting it. There’s only one food that I truly despise and that’s hard boiled eggs.

“What’s wrong with hardboiled eggs?” you ask.

Many, many things.

The texture: the rubberiness of the egg white, paired with the pasty, powdery yoke. I can never figure out which is worse, because to me, both textures are equally horrific (although I’d wager the gelatinous white is just a little bit worse.) If I was Detective Boyle from Brooklyn Nine-Nine, I’d give the hardboiled egg a big, fat zero on “mouth feel.”

That weird grey part: You know exactly what I’m talking about – that grey outer layer that often appears in between the white and the yoke. Yes, that disgusting thing. Grey is not a colour that I associate with things that are edible. The grey layer has always seemed decidedly alien and brain-like to me — as if, by biting into a hardboiled egg I’m consuming tiny, alien brains.

The smell: To be honest, I might be able to get past my other objections if it weren’t for the smell of hardboiled eggs. Just a whiff of a hardboiled egg is enough to actually make me gag. This is coming from a woman who survived a summer in Toronto during a garbage strike. If I get close enough to a hard boiled egg to actually smell it, I have to stifle a heave.

The taste: As far as I’m concerned, it’s basically one and the same with the smell. Why do we eat these things?!

My utter fear and loathing of hardboiled eggs is nothing new. As these things usually go, it’s something that started in childhood. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t find them absolutely repulsive.

When I told my friend about my hardboiled issues, she asked what most people do.

“What about Devilled Eggs?”

“No. Absolutely not. That’s like putting lipstick on a pig. There’s no hiding what it is, they’ve just dressed it up.”

“What about egg salad?”

“Are you serious?”

The problem is that I was born into a culture that seems intent on making you like hardboiled eggs. As I was writing this post I remembered the “hardboiled egg mice” of my childhood. These were a regular feature at kids birthday parties in the 1980’s. The first time I saw them sitting on a table, next to a plate of finger sandwiches and a veggie platter I thought “How cute!” I grabbed one and took a bite thinking that they’d be filled with something delicious like chocolate or cheddar cheese, only to realize once it was in my mouth that it was actually a hardboiled egg. To this day, I still consider hardboiled egg mice to be a culinary war-crime.

With that said, my life is not devoid of hardboiled eggs. There have been times I have eaten them out of necessity – like, when they’re the only option available (I just try not to inhale too deeply) and other times where I’ve actually found them “edible” – like when they’re in a delicious Nicoise Salad. I’m not one of those people like on My Strange Phobia that starts hyperventilating and screaming as soon as they see a hardboiled egg. I can eat around them. However, they will never be something I love. This is non-negotiable.

So, what exactly does this have to do with dating?

Well, lots of things. I promise.

Last Spring, when I was still trying to date Fitness Guy, I remember the topic of lunch came up.

When he told me, “For lunch I usually eat 4 hardboiled eggs and some carrot sticks while sitting at my desk” I nearly threw up.

All I could think was, “And you kiss me with that mouth?”

Besides the fact that that sounds like the saddest desk lunch ever, I struggled with the concept that someone I was attracted to could eat something I hated so much and in such excess.

Could I date and fall in love with someone who loved hardboiled eggs? Sure. However, this little egg-centricity (har har, I couldn’t resist) was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to our differences – for example, his politics and that he likes to hunt & kill some of my favourite animals – you know, the big stuff.

When it comes to dating, we all have our non-negotiables.

Although a love for hardboiled eggs isn’t necessarily a non-negotiable in a partner (unless they force me to eat “egg mice”), I do have my share of non-negotiables. They’re pretty simple:

-Healthy lifestyle.

-Agreement on major issues like abortion & gay marriage.

-No smoking.

-Positive outlook on life.

-Kind.

In my twenties, I definitely ignored some of these non-negotiables in the spirit of adventure and experimentation. I dated a series of smokers and even a hyper-conservative, pro-life Christian (I know, right?) However, the older I get the more I realize how important these core non-negotiables are.

So, the question is – what are your non-negotiables?

On July 1st you receive an email from your ex in Toronto – the one you left behind when you moved back to the West Coast – letting you know that he’s met someone and in a few months he will be a father.

The news throws you – not because you aren’t happy for him – you are (he will be a kick-ass dad) – but because this is his dream. The dream he wanted for the two of you. The dream that you couldn’t deliver on for him.

Clutching your smartphone, you break down in tears in the garden section of Capital Iron, while your Mom strokes your back and asks you what’s wrong.

You haven’t lived in Toronto in nearly three years, however you cry because in this moment it feels like the life that you used to have there really is over. Although the future is exciting and exhilarating, it’s also kind of fucking scary.

The future is happening right now.

Although you feel slightly untethered, you decide to slap on some make-up, put on that new dress and go to a Canada Day BBQ that you’ve been invited to.

Your friends pick you up in a 1950’s mustang convertible. Disclosure is playing on the stereo. Driving along the beach as the warm air rushes past you, life feels oddly perfect.

At the BBQ is where you meet him. You notice him right away because he has what some people might call “swagger.” He’s tall and athletic looking with a strawberry blonde Macklemore haircut. Acne scars faintly dot his chin.

You hear him talking to some other people about Toronto, at which point you join in on the conversation. It turns out that he used to live there, on the same street as you – just a few houses down from the gorgeous brownstone that you used to share with your ex. What are the odds? This must be kismet.

You’re on your third hot dog of the evening. He’s eating ribs. When you notice him scrambling with his hands full to pick up another beer, you politely offer assistance.

“Would you like me to hold your bone?” you ask.

“Yes, please” he replies.

You talk some more. You laugh. He comes with your friends to watch the fireworks from a cliff overlooking the ocean.

It’s only later that you learn that he’s six years younger than you and went to junior high school with your baby sister.

A few nights later you go for drinks at a chic wine bar. He insists on ordering a nice bottle of wine to share and picking up the cheque. You’re impressed.

You laugh. You kiss. You have sex. You wake up wrapped in his sinewy tanned arms and think,

“I could get used to this”

By midsummer you’ll change your mind and you will no longer be dating. However, before that happens you’ll learn a few things along the way.

You’ve never dated a younger guy before. After attempting to date a variety of divorcees and single dads, you’ll find this guy’s total lack of relationship baggage utterly refreshing. However, you’ll soon realize that the flip side of this is that he seems to have no serious relationship experience whatsoever. This starts to reveal itself quickly.

Dating someone younger often means that their exes are young too. When you stumble across a photo of his ex-girlfriend on Facebook, you discover that she looks like a younger, firmer, more proportional Kim Kardashian. It gets worse when he tells you that they broke up six months ago – right before her 19th birthday. Now, you know you look good for a 30-something, however when you don’t hear from him for a few days you start to wonder if maybe he finally noticed the fine creases on the corner of your eyes and promptly got freaked out.

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We need to talk about massage – or more specifically The Art of Sensual Massage, a book from the 1970’s that I found while cleaning out my basement the other day.

As the story goes, my sister procured this book at a garage sale to use as part of an art project, however I also suspect it was to horrify my Mom. I believe her exact words were, “Mom, this is going to make you barf.” My Mom is about as anxious to re-visit the 1970’s as I am to return to my junior high days of the mid-90’s (overly gelled “wet look” hair and crocheted vests, anyone?) Mom, I feel your pain. However, I also feel like there are some important things we can learn from the shudder inducing cultural artifact that is The Art of Sensual Massage.

According to the back of the book, massage is “as easy as making love. It’s the rediscovery of an ancient art, an erotic and healthy way of touching that has been practiced everywhere on earth from biblical times to the present. It’s as near as your own hands and as easy as your lover’s body.”

And no, this book is not a Phil Collins song, although it sure sounds like it. Although it’s not formally suggested, I feel like this fine piece of literature would be best enjoyed while listening to some sitar music and wearing something tie-dyed….or as the book suggests, nothing at all. Because, as The Art of Sensual Massage wants you to know…

Well, now that that’s cleared up let’s begin! The Art of Sensual Massage provides a bunch of tips on how to massage your lover or friend. If you’re not sure what’s “sensual,” The Art of Sensual Massage is happy to provide some insight.

1. Parakeets are sensual.

If you want to up the ante on your erotic massage experience, I would suggest you make like a Portlandia episode and put a bird on it. Parakeet, Toucan or Budgie – whatever you can get to sit on your naked shoulder while you massage your partner – just roll with it. Birds = very sensual.

2. Dolls are sensual.

For a sensual massage environment, make sure at least one creepy doll is watching you at all times.

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Sex, Lust and Ruskie Business

Online Dating Is Still Dating, These Rules Still Apply

On Love, Dating & “Hardboiled” Non-Negotiables

Things You Will Learn From Dating a Younger Man

10 Things We Can Learn From a 1970’s Guide to Sensual Massage