FLaw and Order

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FLaw and Order

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Dear Boys, Silence Is Not Golden

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Dear Boys, Silence Is Not Golden

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Biggest Losers Update

For those new to the blog or in need of a refresher, this is a continuation from the post Until I'm The Biggest Loser I'll Have To Settle For The Biggest Losers where I talk about how I'm perfect (joking) except for my weight and that until my weight is on point I'm going to end up dating losers because the winners are chasing the perfect ladies with hottie bodies.  And for reference the term losers is very relative.  There are definitely levels of losers.

Guy who hits chicks = super ridiculous loser
Guy who is unhappy in his job = moderate loser
Guy who isn't a go getter = moderate loser
Guy who is 40 and living with parents = mega loser
Guy who is boring = moderate loser
Guy who lacks common sense = moderate loser
Guy who wears spandex in public = huge loser
Guy who isn't awesome funny = moderate loser

So as you can see.  When I say I'm going to have to settle for dating losers.  I'm not talking serial killer losers.  Beating your girlfriend losers.  Steal money from you and put drugs in your purse when the police bust him type losers.  I'm talking about moderate losers.  Lack excitement losers.  Lack social intuition and common sense losers.  Lack hilarity and awesomeness losers.  You get the idea.

So here's an update on my Summer of Boys and my status as the Biggest Loser.

Weeks Since the Summer of Boys Began: 8
Total "Somethings" Dated During the Summer of Boys: 3
Total "Somethings" Dated: 5
Total "Pounds" Shed During the Summer of Boys: 18


For those of with eagle eyes...you'll notice that while the weeks passed and pounds lost have changed...the dating has lulled.  And by lulled.  I mean hasn't budged a fucking inch.  Fuck me.  Now I will admit.  If only to save some fucking face and not look like the hugest retard who can't manage to get a date.  I've done a couple of things that are limiting my dates. 

The first thing limiting my number of dates, has been ongoing.  Which is, perhaps I'm being too picky.  And by too picky I'm not saying that I should just go out and bang every guy who shows interest.  But here's the thing of the thing.  The best sex I've had this summer.  Was with Intelligence Officer. 

Detour. 

Which I understand you not really knowing because while you may have gleaned from some notion of this from my vague references I never really got into the nitty gritty for you.  Which sorry I'm not going to here.  Except to say that it was good.  Everything about it was good.  Well everything except for his ghetto-ness of not having a place to repeat the escapade.  But other than that.  All good.

Detour 2.

We all know I have a thing for height.  I always say, the guy has to be tall, because I'm big (and for a girl a decent height at 5'7).  He has to be tall because otherwise I look like the guy and nobody likes that.  So while Intelligence Officer squeaked through because of his personality (and super manliness).  I have been automatically disqualifying any pursuers under 5'11.  Now in fairness to myself, they may have been duds as well as the height...but maybe not, I can't remember.

Back on Track.

And here's the point of the point of the thing of the thing.  The best sex of my summer so far has been with a guy who stands a mere 2 inches above me at 5'9 (which let's cut the shit is basically the same height as me).  And I should actually even go on to mention.  That while you may be thinking well shit she's gotten frisky with 3 guys recently and you would be right...but I would wager that Intelligence Officer would easily fall into the Top 10 and could quite possibly fall into Top 5 (based on overall experience).  So perhaps I need to start being a little more lenient with height.  Maybe I really need to give these guys a chance...hmm...yes no?  I'm not saying I'll just go bang them.  But maybe, they should get a date.  Or at the very least a message back.  To see what's up.  To give them a chance.  Because just as guys can look way worse than their photos.  They've also been known to look way better. 


The second thing limiting my number of dates, started only about a week ago.  I closed all my dating profiles.  And before I freak you out too much.  Don't worry.  It's not a permanent thing.  I'm just taking a little break.  A moment.  A breather.  For one thing, I think it would be nice to have my face off of PlentyofFish.com for a smidge because like I always say, Vancouver is a small ass town and frankly I don't want to be fucking etched into the brains of every guy on there (who doesn't want me) ya dig?  For another thing, the plan is to join back up when I reach the 25 total pounds lost mark.  I'll take some new pics.  I'll look sexy.  I'll look fresh.  It'll be top notch.  See how optimism is my thing :) 

So 7lbs.  It could take 3 weeks.  It could take 1.  We'll all just have to wait and see.  But don't worry.  Until then I have a ton of bloggy stuff that's been back-logging for awhile now.  So wish me luck.  Fingers crossed. 

Oh and BTW. 

Another reason I'm cool with the date slow-down for the moment is I have a wedding for one of my very bestest closest friends coming up this weekend...and by weekend I mean starting Thursday-ish and running till Monday-ish on the island (for non-locals that's Vancouver Island, aka Victoria).  I am so brilliantly excited.  I think they're the cutest couple and I heart them both so so so much.  Not to mention Hellooooo singles table woohoo!!!!  I've never even been to a wedding without Mega Love let alone when I'm all confident and ready to flirt MY ASS OFF!!  And final not to mention.  Because of the weightloss I fit this sexy-awesome Rocawear dress that I've had for like 3 years and only worn once (when it didn't look amazing)...and I actually even have to have it tailored (tighter that is :P).

So wish me luck with that too.  That I get some hot singles table ass.  Or at the very least some flirting practice.

Is It In His Lips?

Kissing.

It's relative, sure.

Some people are leaders.  Some people are followers.  Some people like soft and sensual.  Some people like deep and passionate,.  A kiss with force.  Some people are just lucky they've found someone willing to let them hoover on down and slobber on up. 

Detour.

We all know I love Science.

I like facts and figures.  I like knowing things.  I want answers and explanations.  I want to know about aberrations and anomalies.  I want to know about replicatable skills and test subjects.  I want to know about sociology and psychology.  I am curious.  I am eager.  I am a student of dating.

The Tie In. 

But here's the thing about kissing.  White boys kiss different.  No lie. 

Okay, wait.  That's so very unscientific of me.  Let me rephrase.  The white boys, that I have been kissing, as of late, kiss very differently, than Mega Love and the black guys that preceded him.  Is that a little more precise.

Detour.

Now I will concede the following potential variables in my findings: 

Prior to October 2009 were the six years I spent kissing Mega Love.  That's a lot of kissing.  Passionate kisses.  Soft kisses.  Drunk kisses.  Nightclub kisses.  Kisses in dark movie theatres.  Stolen kisses on public streets.  Hello kisses.  Goodbye kisses.  Kissing-away-my-tears kisses.  Can't-breathe-without-you kisses.  True Blood-is-on-and-we-can't-control-ourselves-another-single-second kisses.  Wake you up at 3am for lovin' kisses.  Distract-me-from-turbulence-till-the-stewardess-comes-with-my-sugar-free-jones-cream-soda-in-a-real-glass-in-first-class kisses.  Skype-across-continent kisses.  Must-keep-from-leading-further-first-attempt-at-closure kisses.  Leading-somewhere closure kisses.  Final kisses.  That's a lot of kissing.

Now for those unaware.  Mega Love is Black.  His lips.  Beautiful.  Full.  Juicy.  Delicious.  Amazing.  Maybe they have something to do with it.  Maybe they don't.  My lips are fairly full themselves.  My bottom lip has been known to give the impression I'm pouting when I'm not at all. 

When Mega Love and I would kiss.  It was wonderful.  He would ebb and I would flow, he would flow and I would ebb.  Flawless Tango.  He would play with my bottom lip, suck it gently, kiss it, play with it, our lips would play with each other.  I would stipulate that it's a possibility that it was because we knew each other so well and experience and all that.  But I really don't think that's it.  Because I remember the kissing in the beginning.

I can actually still picture our first kiss right now.  I can see him sitting on a bar stool at the side of the dance floor.  I'm standing between his legs and wrapped in his arms.  He's just told me how good of a dancer he thinks I am...though I don't need him to say it, I can see the shock on his face white girl got moves. 

But I digress.  We're getting off on a tangent.  So back on point.  The white boys.  Of late.  And their kissing.

The Tie In.

So the first guy I kissed after Mega Love was Garbage Man.  And I'm not going to lie.  Not great.  Chemistry was hot, sure.  But actual kissing.  hmm...well...it was okay.  First I should admit, being that I hadn't kissed someone NEW...sober...in almost a decade I was fucking nervous.  So it's always possible I contributed to the lack of awesomeness.  But even regardless of technique.  There was a decidedly lacking amount of lip.  Perhaps it was actual physical makeup (they were definitely white people lips) perhaps technique/style.

Intelligence Officer was good.  Still not the most amazing ever.  But far better than Garbage Man.  Far.  Plus the chemistry and frankly everything about the whole night was awesome.  But still.  A specific lacking of lip play.  His lips were still definitely white, but by no means lacking in size enough that it should be relevant.  So why was there no lip.  And I'm saying, sometimes I'd try.  And Guide.  Play a little, catch and release.  A little stop and tease, till it was clear, it's my turn to lead for just this moment.  But where Mega Love's lips would pony up with ease...Intelligence Officer was giving me little to work with.

Twitter Guy was good.  Like Intelligence Officer the kissing was good.  But still.  This lip thing.  This lack of lip thing.  And maybe it's a first date thing.  A nervous thing.  A shy thing.  A work up to thing.  But it's a thing nonetheless.  A decidedly white guy thing. 

But it's a thing.  And I miss it.  So I ask you.  Is this phenom specific to these "somethings"?  Wherein lies the difference?  Is it in their lips?  Is it a White boy thing?  Is it a me with novel "somethings" thing?  Is it possible *gasp* *shock* *awe* that I'm not that great of a kisser?

SSDated Seeks Headhunter aka WingChick

Start Video at time 2:35 and watch until 3:05.  "Haaaaavvvveee You Met SSDated?"






Multi-Awesome Corporation [Me] Seeks Experienced and Dedicated Human Resources Recruitment [Dating, Pulling Tail, General Having of Fun] Consultant [WingChick]

Something She Dated Inc. is currently seeking an HR Director to work specifically in two of the company's forefront areas:  Department of Internal Affairs and Mergers & Acquisitions.  In this role you will need to possess a "can-do" attitude where you will not only be developing strategy, but you will take an active part in the implementation as well. You will be a results-oriented individual who knows how to "build and implement" human resources strategies. You will also be highly influential so that you satisfy the need to be able to sell your ideas and initiatives in an environment where regulation, policies and procedures are valued just as high as growth, customer service, and the bottom line.


Position Summary:

As the Recruitment (of dates) Strategy Consultant you will work in partnership with SSD to provide recruitment (of dates) strategy, recruitment (of dates) best practices and employer branding (making SSD look awesome) to help solve our current recruiting challenges (it's all a challenge since the dates are sparse). SSD will rely on your recruitment (dating) expertise to identify the best sales opportunities (hottest or smartest boys), recommend integrated online recruitment solutions (better dating profiles) and be a part of sales calls to provide support and promote these recruitment solutions to customers (sit nearby if I have to call boys, for moral support).


In this role, the HR Director will be part of the strategic leadership committee, and will be responsible for achieving the following key milestones:

. Developing, implementing and managing a Recruitment & Retention strategy (help me figure out how to get first dates, and keep them long enough for second dates)

. Enhancing Employee Engagement by improving corporate communication, adding performance incentives, and developing employee "socials" (teach me to flirt, make bets and propose dares that cause me to do more than I normally would, and throwing parties so that I can meet your single friends)


Responsibilities:

. Work as part of a (dating) solutions team and increase (dates) in key accounts by developing integrated recruitment solutions (better pull tactics)

. Be the primary liaison between the (dater) and the (datee) responsible for implementation of the solution (uh...getting me laid...a good lay that is).

. Create and manage project plans with progress updates to the internal stakeholders (find out if the boys like me)

. Provide regular feedback to (datee) and marketing related to (dater) satisfaction and progress (same as above)


Qualifications:

. Strong problem solving skills and capacity for strategic thinking (fix whatever my problem is)

. Ability to interact with marketing (take good photos of me), technology sales people (create good online profiles), senior business people (my parents?  old guys I might date?)

. Must be bilingual and comfortable working in both English and Man (must speak Man, so no super emotional girls, girls who want me in a relationship, girls who are romantics, etc.)


Additional Qualifications Include:

.  Must be outgoing and able to say, "Haaaaavvveee You Met SSDated?"

.  Happy go lucky, positive attitude

.  Must be able to stay out (awake, away from children, happy) till 2am at least 1 weekend night a week (or 3 weekend nights a month)

.  Must not be a whiner, complainer, or victim or any sort. (though one may revert back to those attributes sporadically as you are only human)

.  Being single is not mandatory but being up for fun and rolling with the punches is


Please note, Something She Dated is an equal opportunity employer and seeks no gender restrictions.  This position is open to men and women of all ages, assuming they can competently complete all duties and responsibilities. 

Serious Inquiries Only.  Please Send Resume to SomethingSheDated [at] Hotmail.com or reply in comments section.

 

Twitter Guy: Breach of Contract

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Suiting Up.

Pursuant to my post, Dear Boys, It's Time To Get Balls Out about my very recent game-changing Eureka! moment about where-all-the-boys-with-balls-are, I will be making a change.

A change for the better.  I think.  Nope.  Definitely for the better.  The only drawback really is the conformity to the masses.  But then again.  The masses are getting noticed.  The masses are getting dates.  The masses have their pick of lays.  I'm thinking the masses aren't so bad afterall.  I'm thinking I kinda want to be a part of the masses for a bit.

So.

I.

Will be Suiting Up.

Detour.

So I know sometimes people do all the reading of a blog and then go back to watch the video.  By people, I mean me and since I do it, other people must too, I'm not that special.  So this is me saying.  Watch the video first.  It's kind of like salt.  And you wouldn't eat your meal and then throw a pinch of salt in your mouth would you?  No of course not, so go ahead, sprinkle some salt on these words by watching the video and then we'll carry on our merry way.  Oh yeah, and since this video is relatively long and addresses enough funny things to span several blog posts...I recommend only watching up to minute 1:10 because that's all you need to know about for this post.  And I wouldn't want you to have to watch the same parts over and over again.  Well unless you think it's hilarious like I do.  And then have at 'er.





The Tie In.

So my logic behind the boys-with-balls not being on online dating sites, is that if they're not online then they must be somewhere else.  I have determined by process of elimination that the boys are outside.  At bars and restaurants.  In coffee shops.  On the beach.  On the street.  At the lake. 

Detour.

I am easily characterizable by polar opposites.  I'm working on this (as I'm well aware balance is a healthy way to live life).  But there it is.  And one of my most notable polar opposites is my appearance.  Superficially.  As in.  The changeable parts of my appearance.  Hair.  Make-up.  Clothes.  When I go out for a night on the town.  It's balls out bitches.  I get dressed to the nines.  Well my nines.  I don't wear stilettos.  I'm chubby afterall.  But I have the sexiest of gladiators.  Gold with white strappy wedges.  Over the knee sexy boots.  Etc.  But I still know how to do it up.  My closet is lined with outfits that I would deem only noncturnally appropriate. 

And then I have sweat pants.  Gasp!  And no I don't mean yoga pants.  Lululemon bottoms.  I mean repping UBC on the ass sweat pants.  And then I have hoodies.  And I don't mean form-fitting-zip-up-the-front-made-for-women-cute things.  I mean fluffy-kangaroo-pull-over-hoodies-in-boys-sizes.  These hoodies have meaning.  I've collected them.  From my travels.  From Universities that I've visited along the way.  Tulane.  Loyola.  LSU.  Florida State.  Etc.  I heart them.  I mean really heart them.

Perhaps it's because I live in Vancouver.  And for a little slice of the temperature life...it only JUST became t-shirt weather.  We've had a really rainy season (sorry to proliferate the sterotype and if anyone says anything about the rain I'll have to take you out like you just talked shit about my mamma).  It only just became hot.  So you can imagine how much of the year I can get away (and need) to wear the warmies.

The Tie In.

Only here's the thing of the thing.  When it's time to go out to dinner downtown or hit a club/lounge or go somewhere that I'm expecting to find cute boys and...ya know...want to talk to them.  I'll get dressed up.  Balls out.  But the rest of the time.  Like when I'm studying at the library.  Meeting my friends at starbucks.  Breakfast with TheHell at Ricky's.  Lunch at Whitespot.  I'm wearing the sweats.

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

I'm also probably not wearing make-up.  Like 95% kind of probably.  Oh and my hair's probably tied back in a tiny nob of a pony-tail.  Sexy I know.  And though I'm okay with the whole concept of everyone is beautiful and all that.  And I think I'm beautiful and all that.  Let's cut the shit.  I'm a hell of a LOT more beautiful with a little make-up on.  With my hair sexy and straight or wild and curly but done the fuck up.

The Finale.

So I've decided.  I'll be suiting up from now on.  I mean...how can I expect guys to be hitting me with their best shot when I'm only giving them a slopitch toss that barely makes it across the plate.  Because here's the thing of the thing.  I'm finally confident enough to actually talk to random boys...in the daylight...without music blasting and at least one of us being drunk...and it's time to let my extroverted side shine...or at the very least get in some good flirting practice.  So here's to another experiment with Science and Dating. 

I'll Keep Ya Posted.  Wish Me Luck.

Twitter Guy: The Date Stage

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Twitter Guy: The Middle Ground Stage

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Twitter Guy: The Twitter Stage

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The Booty Call - Sober Susan Sinks SSDated's Sexcapades

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Six Degrees of Something She Dated (Vancouver Edition)

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Addendum To Biggest Loser

So I know I can be harsh.  And my love of themes can give the wrong impression.  I thought this might happen with the post about how Until I'm the Biggest Loser I'll Have to Settle for the Biggest Losers.  And I think it kinda did.

Sometimes.  Wait.  Scratch that.  Most of the time.  It's hard to get your exact point, your tone, the precise meaning, across the interweb.  It's kind of like when someone asks you to define the difference between Awesome and Rad.  I mean.  Where do you even start.  But I digress. 

Sometimes I forget that you, my blog readers, aren't my friends in everyday life.  You don't know what I've been through.  You don't know what my life is like.  You don't know where I'm coming from.  And while a hurdle, this isn't usually that big of a roadblock.  But.  Well.  I hate to be misunderstood.  Specificity has no bigger supporter than me.  Vague is no friend of mine.  So because the last post was already pretty long and fumbled...here is an "attempted" point form list of some of the clarifications I'd like to make.  Some are in response to comments left (which PSizzle were awesome and thank you so much for both your support and bringing up new points or things I needed to clarify...I heart you!)  and others are just things I think are important.  For clarity's sake.

1.  Audience.    The post was about me.  Not women in general.

2.  Location.     Vancouver IS very different than Toronto and London (New York, LA).  Christ, it's even completely different than Seattle (it's closest major american city for ya'll that don't know).  Vancouver is small.  Vancouver is characterized by health, exercise, affluence, nature, etc.  (for reference all wonderful things).  In Atlanta they love me, New Orleans same thing.  Seattle is golden and Florida is a kingdom of ripe fruit (for my pickin').  I stress, Vancouver is very different.  And even if it wasn't for the characterizations as mentioned above...the simple size of Vancouver works against my me.  There's a reason I use plentyoffish.com.  It's not because the site is awesome.  It's because it's the only one that has a decent amount of local people on it.  Every other website can't seem to get the same draw.

3.  Pulling.    I've pulled hotties.  I've pulled notties.  I've pulled averages.  I've pulled nice guys.  I've pulled pro-football players (yes, plural).  I've pulled regular joes.  I've pulled hard-workers.  I've pulled military guys (in more than one country).  I've pulled a UFC fighter (not to be confused with MMA guy).  I've pulled a bouncer, a promoter, a Chef.  I've pulled Canadians, Americans, Eurpoeans, Africans, Latin Americans.  I've pulled a fireman, a DJ, a Graphic Designer.  The list goes on. 

But you know who I've never pulled. 

The Smart Guy.  The Physicist.  The Professor.  The Lawyer.  The Doctor.  The Poet.  The Extreme Hacker.  The Guy who's brain I'd like to lick.  I've never pulled the Funny Guy.  And I don't mean I've never pulled a guy who knew how to laugh or tell a joke but I mean the really Funny Guy.  The Witty Repartee Guy.  The Sparring Words Guy.  The challenges and makes me think Guy.  I've never met the Changing the World Guy.  I'm thinking this might require a whole post to really get to the bottom of it.  But here's the gist.  The hottie?  Not even close to a specification that makes someone not a "loser". 

Example.  The first date I went on with someone off of plentyoffish.com was Barbie.  He was a bartender.  He had the double shirt.  He had...an 8 pack.  I mean seriously, like fucking steel.  He was definitely a pretty boy.  But.  Dumb as bricks.  I mean honestly, borderline retarded.  Super nice guy.  Really sweet.  Absolutely no filter.  Conversation was insane.  And not in a good way. 

4.  The "Like Us For Who We Are."     Maybe it's a difference between girls who feel they shouldn't have to be made to feel less for not being a stick figure and girls like me, obese.  But I call bullshit.  Because I don't want a guy to like me for being obese like that's some indication of who I am.  That is most definitely NOT who I am.  It's a flaw.  Something to overcome.  I am not the cheeseburger I ate when stressed for exams.  I am not the blubber it turned into.  I AM the person who sometimes lacks the ability to appropriately deal with stress.  But that's not something I would want to be dated for.  I'd want to be liked in spite of that.  Plus trying to deny how important sexual attraction is a counterintuitive action much like the actions that made a world in which a book called "he's just not that into you" even needs to be published.  I'm just sayin' people. 

5.  Health.    To be clear, I am not trying to get model thin.  I won't be using diet supplements (or anything else that even has the possible potential to damage my brain, body, etc.).  I am losing weight to be healthy. Plain and simple.  People are attracted to health. 

6.  Matching.    Though I get shy on first dates, at the beginning of parties, and speaking aloud in class (Christ! I don't drink...can you really blame me?).  I have a great deal of confidence.  Sure I'm normal.  There are moments, days, the occasional week when self-esteem takes a hit.  But usually.  I think I'm pretty awesome.  Sometimes that might be obnoxious.  Mostly I think it's just great.  I mean.  Join the party everybody.  You should think you're pretty awesome too.  And if you don't, well either the problem is something you can change...in which case go right ahead and become more awesome.  Or the problem is just a thinking thing, in which case...go right ahead and just start recognizing your awesomeness. 

But here's the thing of the thing.

I don't think my body matches my self-esteem.  I can garauntee you, if I was not obese.  I'd be talking to the fellas.  I'd be flirting on beaches and coffee shops.  I'd be approaching in bars and lounges.  I'd be making buddies with the guys in the next row at the concert.  But I don't.  Because I don't want to be the granade in the scenario.  And I know (generalization sorry boys) that they're not thinking...awesome maybe instead of letting me touch her perky tits and cup her firm ass, she'll talk about books, and travelling and ask me questions about science.  So I smile.  And I'm nice and friendly.  But I hang back.  I don't lead the pack.  And I just want to make my body match my stride.  Which would be at the front of the pack, saying....Haaaaaave you met Cindy?

7.  Bodies.    For reference ladies...I think we're all freaking beautiful!  Go on with your bad selves.  Big boobs?  rock 'em.  Gorgeous smile?  flash it.  Amazon tall?  God your amazing and you damn well better show it off!  Batt those lashes.  Sway those hips.  Point those sexy toes.  Flat stomach? midriff it.  Juicy thighs?  Wear those tiny shorts!  I'm saying....perhaps the saying goes for you too...it's time to get balls out!  There's no need to be a carbon copy of Jennifer Aniston.  And my weightloss will be nothing even slightly headed in that direction.  I am not a size 8 trying to get to a size 4.  I am size don't-want-to-die-at-50 trying to get to a buys-clothes-at-a-regular-store.  Jus sayin'

And in that spirit.  Here is a little spoken word.  About Boobs.  Since as women I don't think we're ever more self-concious whether they're huge, small, different, somewhere in between.

Until I'm the Biggest Loser I'll Have to Settle for the Biggest Losers

I.  Am an honest person.  True Story.

And I know what you're thinking.  "But didn't you just ask all the boys of summer to white lie you, not tell you the whole truth, wrap you up in sugar coating and all that?"  And the answer is yes.  Emphatically YES! 

But here's the thing of the thing.  There's a big difference between knowing the truth and wanting to hear the truth.  Knowing the truth and sharing that truth with others who didn't ask for it.  Sometimes the truth should just keep its damn nose to itself.  Boys.  I'm just sayin'. 

But other times.  I have to shout it.  I want to shout it.  About myself.  I have to say it.  Outloud.  Because it's the truth.  I'm okay with it.  And I kinda wish you would be too.  But I won't force you. 

I.  Am self-aware.  True Story.

I prefer terms like Chubby Bunny and Pleasantly Plump.  Hate terms like BBW and Obese.  But a spade is a spade and I could be a Biggest Loser contestant.  And before you get all, "But that's not all you are" and "you're beautiful and you're smile..." it's cool...I know.  But this isn't that blog post.

This is about dating and it's correlation to body size.  Specifically MY Vancouver dating pool and its kiddie pool size in relation to the wide net I wish I could cast.  While there may be plenty of fish in the sea there are very few fish swimming in my plus size online bird bath.

So why is my dating pool the size of a bird bath?  Partly it's a numbers thing (with Vancouver being a fairly small city, not to mention one highly characterized by granola eating hippies and organic produce buying yuppies (love ya :P)) but mostly it's a Darwinian selection thing.  When selecting a mate, it's in your best interest to pick one that is strong and durable.  It's a sexual attraction thing.  It's a live-for-a-long-time kinda thing.  Sure you can't predict the future and you're mate could be hit by a bus tomorrow.  But it's a hedge-your-bets type thing. 

And I get it.  I'm guilty of it too.  I've always said I didn't want to date somebody else who was obese.  Fuck we'd probably just bounce off of each other.  All kidding aside though.  It's the truth.  I'm not attracted to majorly overweight guys.  And I know you're thinking that's cold, girl.  But here's the thing of the thing.  It has less to do with how they look than what the weight signifies (to me).

To me, the weight reveals everything.  They have issues.  They have stuff to deal with.    And before you say something ignorant like, I know lots of happy fat people.  Think.  I mean really think.  Chris Farley.  Kirstie Alley.  Elvis.  Oprah.  Me anytime before 2 years ago and after I was twelve.  Jus sayin'.  And yes I know everybody has issues.  I had issues.  I have less issues now.  And because I'm looking for fun fun fun dating.  I don't want boys with issues.  I want boys that have less issues.  Like how I have less issues.

The Tie In.

Okay so maybe losers is a bit harsh.  But spot me some leeway.  Call it wordsmithing and poetic license and dramatic effect and all that.  Thematic significance and we all know I love themes.  It just fits.  And for Christ sakes! I know you'll at least cosign that the "somethings" and "potential somethings" I've been dating aren't "winners". 

My theory is this.....

Sidebar:  Okay so I've written and rewritten the end of that sentence like 20 times and nothing feels...well...like something I could write and not be judged for being a totally politically incorrect asshole.  So I'm just going to be a politically incorrect HONEST asshole.

My theory is this...until I'm the biggest loser (read: not obese) I'll have to settle for the biggest losers (read: not physicist smart, not highly educated, not super confident/manly/ballsy, not always tall, sometimes no dates at all).  Now don't get all, Oh SSD?!? (hands on your hips and disapproving pout) on me.  Because frankly I know I deserve to spend time with wonderful awesome guys.  I think I'm awesome.  It's not a self-esteem thing.  It's a reality thing.  And I'm okay with that.  most of the time.

I am university educated.  I have big boobs and a nice smile.  Some boys have said nice eyes.  My friends appear to like me.  At parties I'm sociable and said to be funny (people have been known to laugh).  I'm adventurous and I've been out in the world (read: I have things to talk about).  I'm independent (read: have lots of my own interests).  I'm a dynamo in bed. (okay that one I'm just hoping is true and if not a girl can always learn with enough enthusiasm right?)

So why wouldn't the dates be pouring in?  Why aren't I being bombarded online and courted offline.

I have one theory.  It has something to do with where the men are. The ones with balls of steel and Chuck Norris swagger...Read More Here

For another perspective on this topic there are some amazingly wonderful and lovely ladies who have weighed in on this topic: Cece @ The Big Girl Blog, Lucky Girl @ How Very Lucky, and KB @ KB In NYC. They all make some really awesome points.

Unfortunately unlike Lucky Girl, I haven't been all sorts of different body sizes.  I've just been the one.  Big.  I haven't been a normal weight since before I had hips (which ironically occurred late though I had boobs by grade four).  So I don't have anything to compare my current dating life to.

But that's all about to change.  Because you all know me and science.  I can't simply accept an idea, a notion, a claim.  I have to test it.  And I'm not going to get into but my life is the peachiest it's ever been in my entire life.  Except this one last thing.  My weight.  So not only is this the summer of boys.  But it's also the summer I become the biggest loser.  So wish me luck.  I'll keep you posted on any inverse correlational details.  And for reference...the tally thus far.

Weeks Since the Summer of Boys Began:  5
Total "Somethings" Dated During the Summer of Boys:  3
Total "Somethings" Dated:  5
Total "Pounds" Shed During the Summer of Boys:  12

Dear Boys, It's Time To Get Balls Out

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Dear Boys, It's Time To Get Balls Out

to read it in full on JadedLovers.com or click here to find out about the changes taking place with this blog.

The Sunday Profile: Don't Hate Us

Don't Hate Us

But We're On Hiatus

Don't worry...not the whole blog....Just the Sunday Profile...We missed last week's post...and frankly we've lost interest in the "profile" mockery/critiquing etcetera....sometimes superheroes need to collect their thoughts...so we think we're moving on...to what...we're not quite sure...but like our relationships....we're not ready to commit to anything...we'll keep you posted.  Also hopefully this will help get us posting more reguarly throughout the week....*crossies*

New Post Coming Tomorrow.

Oh and PS...sometimes SSD likes to refer to herself in the third person.  Kinda like Jimmy.  Not sure if it's cool or lame?  It's cool so shut it.

The Voice of Reason

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The Voice Of Reason

to read it in full on JadedLovers.com or click here to find out about the changes taking place with this blog.

Fan of the White Lie or "Stop! You're Ruining It"

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Fan of the White Lie OR "Stop! You're Ruining It"

to read it in full on JadedLovers.com or click here to find out about the changes taking place with this blog.