This may turn into a travel blog.

So. If I have any followers out there (hello to all two of you) you may know I’m a sucker for seat sales on flights.

So while I’m navigating the waters of being a socially awkward single lady in Canada, I’m also attempting to manage being a socially awkward single lady everywhere else.

Thankfully I’ve perfected being awkward and being single.

In a week and a bit I’ll be leaving on my first trip to Asia. Solo. Naturally.

So bare with me while I talk about my adventures.

I promise I’ll still have ample of awkward stories to talk about. And useless information about me. But also maybe something like “what shoes to bring when you want to look cute but didn’t want to die”.



Look at that fucking lame ass title.
Just look at it.

This post is going to be about one of my biggest insecurities. My appearance. Buckle up.

Okay – so it’s come to my attention, that apparently I have a super flirtatious nature. I don’t mean to. However, apparently my kindness often gets misconstrued as flirtatious. Who knew? Not me.

And, apparently, I’m kind of cute. Again, who knew?
Now – I’m not here saying I’m a monster of the lagoon. But I don’t think highly of myself. Probably because over the last few years I’ve lost some weight, but I still see fat me. Where people don’t see fat me (unless they knew me when I was fat, but since I moved no one in my everyday life knew me as fat). I don’t think I’m hideous, however I will be the first to pick out a design flaw of mine, as well as the first person to find someone much more attractive than myself. I’d give myself a solid 3. Which, honestly is an improvement, but I use to consider myself a 2 (out of 10, because I’m not a monster and who the fuck uses a 5 scale?).

Anyway, without getting too sappy about loving myself and all that trash, I think I figured out why when someone says “you have lots of guys who like you” I don’t take them seriously and brush it off.

Here’s what I’ve rationalised:

I think that I brush people off who think I’m cute, because it’s then initial attraction. They don’t know me. They just think I’m cute. It is 100% based on aesthetics. Maybe that’s why  I struggled with tinder. But that’s all it is. The first appearance. But then, they get to know me, and they turn away. I’m too much to handle, or I’m too needy, or I’m too this or too that, or not enough, blah blah blah.

Either way. I’ve figured that I brush it all off, because until someone has actually spent time with me, and genuine time with me, they don’t know me well enough to know if I’m actually attractive. Because, to me, attraction goes far beyond their appearance. I want to be attracted to your soul, your heart, your mind.

So, before you call me cute, watch me talk insanely about Harry Potter, or watch me get in bad traffic, or see how terrible I am at cooking. Then make your choice.

This guy.

You know that feeling when your heart swells up? That feeling of utter bliss after confusion? When everything feels good? That feeling? That’s me right now.

I’m so terrible at saying how I feel. I don’t know why. I wish I was better. But unfortunately I’m not. However, I’m grateful for the people who stuck beside me when I’m incoherent, trying to explain it all between crying and boogers and snot and hiccups.

I’m not used to people, especially guys, trying to work out issues with me. I’m used to guys turning away and running as soon as my anxiety kicks in. I’m used to ghosting myself when I get scared of how attached I’m getting to someone, platonic or not.

So, when I find someone who doesn’t immediately run for the hills, it makes me heart soar. I feel loved, and cared for. Protected.

I’m the type of person who will assume all blame. Always. Sometimes I am to blame. Sometimes I’m not. But I’ll assume it’s entirely my fault. And when that happens I panic. And when I panic it turns into this disastrous mess of high emotions, which is a fucking nightmare for someone who doesn’t process emotions well.

But this is different. He’s not running away from me. And as much as I feel like I’ve hurt him, and I know he’s upset, he still wants to talk it through with me. Is this what adulting is?

I have met many people, of many walks of life, and very few stand out as much as he does. He continuously surprises me by his maturity and his ability to calm me. Every time I think I know him, there’s another curve ball of something else that’s magnificent, and wonderful, and I think to myself why in the fuck would he spend time with a mess like me? And maybe that’s why. Maybe he sees through the chaos that I’m continuously feeling within myself. He knows I have a big heart, a good mind, and a caring soul. Maybe, even if I haven’t fully told him all the terrible details, he knows all the terrible shit I’ve been put through. Maybe he wants to prove to me, and himself, that not all guys are assholes. Not all guys will use you. Not all guys will treat you like shit and manipulate you into thinking you’re the issue.

It scares me shitless to know how strongly I feel about him. I love how he makes me feel. And how he is raw with me. And I love how caring he is. And I love how in-tune with himself he is. I love his smile. And his freckles. I love his laugh, especially the one he has when he does not expect you to say whatever you said that made him laugh. I love his sense of humour. I love how much he cares about his family, and moreso his friends. He is one of a kind. And I’d be a wreck without him. I don’t think I’d ever be able to repay him for all the things he has done for me.

Big Pun II

So. We kissed.

Then what?

We continued to hang out often, and continued to kiss, as well as escalating to stuff beyond kissing – if I say ‘obviiii’ does that make me a hoe?

I have real emotions for this guy. More real than the other guys I’ve seen since moving. Real real. As in I can see myself having a life with him. I could picture myself actually settling down and dating this guy for real. Not causally. Not just a fuck buddy. Legitimately date this guy. We’re adorable.

I guess our friendship got strong. Strong enough for both of our employees to pick up on some sort of aura we have. Apparently strong enough for our district manager to pick up on it.

She asked me about it. Actually, no. She didn’t. She called me to tell me how happy she was that I finally found someone. I’m not even joking. I think I broke her heart a little when I told her we were just friends. I knew he wasn’t interested in dating. He wasn’t ready. And as someone who is borderline ready herself, I get it. You don’t want to rush stuff, especially with someone who you actually give a shit about. Someone you don’t just want to be a ‘rebound’. I respect him for being bold and real enough to say that. Not beating around the bush, and not ignoring his gut instinct and just diving head first into something that will inevitably fail because you rushed into it. Right?

And then there is me. Still awkward. Still terrified. I’m basically a chihuahua. I shake. I tend to almost pee myself when I’m scared. Kinda cute, but in a fucked up way. Just waiting for the perfect opportunity to blow it up. Probably with words. Probably trying to say something, and having it come out completely wrong. Probably because I’m an idiot. Probably because I’m scared at how much I like this guy. Probably because every fibre of my being is telling me I’m going to fuck up. Every fibre is telling me this is usually the time where I bail, but I don’t want to bail. Every. Fibre.

Do you know what it’s like to fight your own mind? It’s exhausting. I have to remind myself he likes me, for whatever reason. And enjoy the ride while it’s here before he realises how completely fucked up I am.

And then today happened.

I fucked up.

I’d say right on time, but it seemed a bit late to be honest.

I said something to the tune of “I don’t need you in my life. I want you in my life.”

I wanted it to sound cute. Like I don’t need him to live, and breathe, but he’s the first guy I’ve allowed into my life, and into my real life, in some time. Not the “oh, I’m fine thanks, how are you?” life. Real. Life. Like, my dad is in the hospital. My dad is having surgery. I don’t have a good relationship with my mom because XYZ. My sister has disappointed me her whole life. My Nana is ashamed of me for my tattoos. I’m terrible at my job. My best friends are my life line, and it kills me that I barely have time to see them. Ugly, booger-y cries. Sleepy toots. Real. Life. That he wasn’t in my life as an obligation, or something forced upon me, but that he was in my life because I simply wanted him there, and he chose to stay too. He’s not just a part of my life because we work together and it’s part of work etiquette to enjoy your coworkers companies, but I often seek out more time to spend with him because I enjoy his company. He makes me laugh. He makes me smile. He’s reminded me how it feels to be happy. How it feels to let someone in. And fuck, how it feels to have significant feelings for someone. And real feelings. Not just infatuation. But legitimate feels.

I. Fucked. Up.

Am I shocked? No.

Am I disappointed? Yes.

Am I going to be able to sleep, eat, think, function or forgive myself? Not for a while.

Big Pun, I hope you’re able to see through my inabilities and insecurities. You have made the past three months manageable for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you, so clearly I do need you in my life.

Big Pun


Ready? This one is going to be a doozy. Whatever tf that means.

Two months ago I met someone. Through work (girl, you can’t sleep with the entire company – but you can certainly try). He had just gotten transferred to a store that I was helping out in. Apparently he thought I was cute. I thought he was nice. He thought I had a thing for the manager (I didn’t). I thought he was seeing someone (I’m over the whole unavailable thing). We talked baseball, and work, and that was it.

This store was really tight knit, and decided to go for food. He lived a bit further than me, so he offered to pick me up so I could have a few drinks (see above: nice).

He picked me up. Me: “this feels like every awkward tinder date I’ve ever been on”. Him: “I’ve never been on a tinder date.” Me: “Don’t. Unless you want some horror stories.”

And so began a weird conversation about shitty boys I used to go on dates with. If you can even call them dates. We went to the store, and met up with the team, and headed for food. And then he asked if I wanted to smoke (don’t judge me Jen, I know you’ll read this). And obviously I accepted. Ayeee, you don’t pass on grass.

I got pretty fucked up. And as usual, I couldn’t stop laughing, and absolutely crushed the chicken wings I was eating. We bonded over me not being able to form sentences. We got iced capps, and sat in the car having real talks, which is weird for me to do on the first time really hanging out with someone. There was something different about him. He wasn’t anything I was used to in a boy perspective.

Nothing happened that night between us. Other than a ton of laughs and a hug at the end of the night.

We started hanging out more regularly as I started working in the same mall as him – technically different stores too before anyone calls HR on my ass.

We went for dinner and drinks, went and explored downtown Toronto, went to see Star Wars, and went on lunch dates most days. He quickly became the person I turned to for info, help, support, as well as someone who I could be real with about my life. It was really nice.

He came over one night and watched a movie with me. I fell asleep almost instantly. But he stayed awake and watched it, and then left. Again, nothing happened. Later on he would ask me if I expected anything to happen. I didn’t. Not that night anyway.

He came over a few times after that too. We kept it causal. I was starting to realise I had some sort of feelings and connections with this guy. But I was worried that if I made a move, he would be weirded out because A, we work together, and B, maybe he wasn’t into me since he hadn’t made a move.

And then he came over for tacos and pinas. Oh rum, you make me fun.

I moved my face hella close to his, and waited, and when he crept forward I nodded. It happened. We kissed. Finally. It was weird. I’m not generally a fan of kissing, but here I was, kissing the guy who breaks all the stereotypes of my typical guy. And enjoying it.

I’m still a mess – but I’ll leave it at that for now.

I promise, I’m not dead

However, the holiday season in retail almost always feels like I may keel over at any moment. Bad joke?

It’s been a while. There’s been a few changes.

First off, I guess I’m able to be friends with the guy who used me. Or some weird variation of what friendship should be. We talk often, but not nearly as often as we used to.

The guy I send drunk snaps to … well, he’s a bit different with me too. I guess he saw snaps of me and another guy (I’ll get there) and assumed I had a boo – seriously, it’s like he doesn’t even know me. Anyway, he’s still a bit of an emotional mess with everything that’s gone on in his life, and without trying to sound like a complete asshole, he’s in no position for a relationship (not that that’s necessarily what I’m looking for buuuuttt…)

New year, new work home, new boo. Who dis?

Do I have a boo? No.

Do I not have a boo? … no?

It’s complicated. And I think I’ll just sum it up with a “we’re enjoying each others company for the time being”.

Whatever that means.

I’ll write more and queue it to post. But that’s enough for tonight.

Silly Snaps

Snapchat may be the death of me. It also may be a major reason in why I’m so single.

Because who likes a girl who drunkenly sends snaps and then doesn’t remember what she said? And then it being awkward AF after. Or not a awkward at all, because it can’t be awkward when you’re getting ghosted.

It was nice while it lasted. Oral skills on point.

Sorry not sorry that I’m a mess.


Tonight, I come to you genuinely upset.
I feel like maybe I say this too often for it to be true, but for the most part I feel like I’m not the type of girl to allow her emotions to get the best of her, or the type of girl to be overly emotional about … well anything really. So I’m feeling a lot out of my element tonight.

For anyone who has been following, you’ll know my weird friendship with the guy who I’ve written about the past few posts. He’s kind, and funny, and weird, and someone that I respect and go to about absolutely everything. He’s the first person I went to last week when I got really bad news, and also the first person I went to when I got some really good news this week. He is one of my best friends, and I value him so much. I don’t have a lot of friends – but he’s incredibly important to me, and I’d never want to do anything to jeopardise what we have.

Cue dumb AF me.

We were both attending a work conference where they set us up in a hotel for a couple of nights. The first night I had a room to myself, and he came up once he checked in, and we chatted and it was just really natural and easy, the way it always is on the few occasions we’ve hung out. It doesn’t seem forced, or awkward, and sometimes there’s tensions, but not in an awkward way (in my opinion). We talked about travel, and music, and watched some videos, and hung out. That was it. He laid in my bed, but not once did I think he was making a move on me, and then after a while, he left to his own room. Friendship in tact.

The next morning, we went out together for coffee before our meetings started, and during the day we distanced ourselves. We’re different areas within the company, so it wouldn’t exactly be natural for us to spend a copious amount of time with him at a meeting. Plus, I feel like when it comes to my outside work relationships (platonic or otherwise) I want to keep private from colleagues (unless they’re one of the few colleagues I’d actually consider a friend).

We were messaging throughout the day, and he seemed off, and I could tell something was bothering him. And like always, I offered any support I could be, whether someone to vent to, or someone just to distract him from what was going on. He ended up going for a walk solo and staying in his room for the night. I, on the other hand, attempted to mingle with other staff (at the bar of course) and catch up with a few people I haven’t seen since moving. I also ended up talking to a few higher ups about a promotion I was offered and just my few concerns about it. The person whose opinion I wanted the most, obviously being my friends, I was messaging him saying I wanted life chats, because like I said, he’s my go to person for everything. So he invited me to his room, since his roommate left early. So after a few drinks (and a shot of patron) I went up.

Again, it felt natural, and unforced. Just hanging out with your best friend. I laid in his bed and told him the offer, and we collectively compared my other few options, and then he offered his suggestion on what to do. Not that he would ever want to think that he has any sway or say in my life choices, but again, as one of my closest friends, I value his opinion a lot, and I know he would want what is best for me.

And then something must have shifted. I don’t know who instigated it, whether it was me, or him, or if it was just natural flow of our night, but we ended up kissing. I know he shouldn’t have. I know I should have stopped it. But I didn’t. And honestly, I don’t regret not pulling away. I genuinely like this guy. I should kiss him. I deserved to. At one point, it got much more heated, and I had finally gotten over the bliss and joy and confusion and excitement of kissing this guy that has been my rock for the last 5 months to get my head out of my ass. I told him I didn’t want him to do anything he would later regret doing. And he gave me some line about how he liked me but how he was in a bad spot mentally and how he thought we had something different. And I agreed that we have something, and I reminded him that I felt like I was mentally in a good spot, and that I would support him in whatever he chose to do. And that was it. We stopped kissing. I think we cuddled, and I guess eventually I fell asleep in his bed.

Fast forward a few hours later, and he wakes me up. I’m sure I don’t need to spell it out.

It was good. The anticipation took it from one level to the next. It was almost bliss, again, for this to be happening with a guy I so deeply care about who I’ve been developing feelings for during the past 5 months especially. I couldn’t get back to sleep after. My brain couldn’t shut off – maybe that should have been a sign to leave and go to my own bed and get some real sleep. But I didn’t. I left around 6:45 AM, and went up to my room.

I got ready for the meeting, and went to a coffee shop across the road to get myself and my roommate a coffee (with the lack of sleep, I think I ended up drinking at least 72 coffees during the day). I passed him in the hall, and he looked so good. I know I was blushing. We chatted in passing, and I dropped off the coffees before heading down to the meetings.

And then I got a text.
“I’m really sorry about last night. I feel awful. Kind of why I just completely ducked out of there today…”

So I asked why he was sorry.

“Because I shouldn’t have done that last night. I wasn’t happy. And basically used you to try and make myself happy for a brief moment. Even though I knew it would end up sending me into a deeper spiral. I always fuck things up.”

Ok. So that was kind of soul crushing to read surrounded by about 250 of my colleagues. Here I was, thinking maybe I broke through to this guy, and we finally just got all the tension out of the way that has been building up. He finally opened up to me, personally, and then romantically (I want to vom even typing that).

So I replied. “I don’t really know how to respond to that. But I get it. I feel like people do things when they’re upset to not be upset. I’ll do my best to withhold judgment on that, but kind of shitty for me. But maybe it’s a lesson of not putting myself in that situation? I don’t know. I could have said no, and I didn’t. That’s on me. I feel like there is (was?) obvious tension between us, but maybe that’s just me.”

And then I offered my support to help him go through whatever it is that he’s going through, whether someone to vent to, distract, but I also offered to step back if he needed it. Which maybe he does to figure it all out. And that’s it.

I haven’t gone more than 4 days without talking to him since May. And I don’t want to. But I also feel like I need to give him a few days to sort himself out. And maybe reach out at the end of the week. But I’m also fairly sure that he’s going to visit his LD girlfriend (still not convinced that’s real) at the end of the month. But I don’t know when he’s leaving. So should I just wait it out until he reaches out? Or should I reach out and hopefully don’t message him while he’s with his girlfriend?


It seems to be a trend for me to be interested in people who are mentally in a bad spot. I want to fix people. I want to help. I want to support. But maybe this is a trend I need to break, or maybe it just shows that above all, I care.