Dating Advice from AnnaB to Herself

If you met me, I believe one of your first impressions would be “bitch”. Then probably one of “confidence” with progression to “whoa, she just doesn’t give a fuk”. But once in a while that confidence just takes a backseat and I over analyze and over think and exaggerate EVERYTHING... Probably (no actually, definitely) get emotional. And so I’m wondering, what makes that switch?

Oh, right. Feelings. When I admit (just to myself, not even anybody else) that I have feelings for someone, that’s where the turn is, that where my downfall begins. “Do I look pretty enough for him?”, “should I/shouldn’t I have said that?”, “do you think he misses me?”, “what if there’s someone else?”… blah blah blah in an endless cycle. “I wonder what he’s doing now”, “why hasn’t he messaged me yet?”… ect ect.

WORST THING EVER!!!!  Cuz he doesn’t like psycho me!!! He likes the “I don’t fuken care what you think, I’ll do what I want”, “I didn’t even put any effort in, and I still look like a rockstar” kinda me. SO EASY to say. 

Now let’s practice Anna, pretend you never acknowledged those feelings, just be your asshole self. 

I've Seen Your Penis!!!

The prologue:
So, a few years ago, I met a boy through my work that I was very infatuated with. Salt n Pepper hair, a few years older than me, gorgeous, Irish. We flirted a little bit, then I asked him out. We met for a quick drink- and I even surprised him by paying the bill (I found that guys hate it when you do that - especially at the beginning). However, when we were texting and talking on the phone leading up to the 2nd date, he kept saying "buddy", and I got confused. I asked my girlfriends if this was a normal thing, but they just shrugged it off.

So, drinks round two. We're laughing and flirting and he's got his hand on my thigh or whatever, and there it is... "buddy". So I got into one of my little tangents (which is me basically freaking out and yelling at someone - I do it fairly often. Eventually, you get used to it, cuz you realize it's just how I try to prove my point). It went something like "So... I'm fuken confused, are you attracted to me or not?" and naturally, he was taken back (probably physically leaned back as well in a "where the fuk did that come from" kinda way) and stammered, "ugh, I am... why?" BUDDY, BUDDY! BUD! WHO SAYS THAT? (that last part I said in a whisper - not at all). Spoiler alert: there was no date 3.

The rant:
Which brings me to current life. "Present day" if you will. I'm on the phone with one of the most genuine people I know, a really good friend of mine. And as per usual, I'm venting about this and that and walking down the street just screaming into the phone (I swear, he probably turns it down a couple notches when talking to me) and it's as if I could hear him roll his eyes at the point I was making (whatever it was) "Sure, bud" he says. BUD? BUD? AS IN BUDDY? "Ugh, yeah" he sounds confused. YOU CAN'T SAY THAT! "Okay, pal" is the response - and one that I saw coming, by the way. YOU CAN'T SAY THAT! I'm sticking by this point! He is still confused as to why... and so my "lady like demeanor" goes out the window...

BECAUSE I'VE SEEN YOUR PENIS!!!

And that is the life lesson here boys (cuz I believe ALL the girls will be on my side for this one). IF you are ever with a girl, and you want her to... eventually SEE YOUR PENIS you will NOT use the words: buddy... pal... slugger... champ... you can probably use "dude" and "mate" but I'd do so rarely.

If you are with a girl and she has seen your penis in the past - you are not "buds", you can be friends, sure. but realistically, one or both of you are still hung up on the other/eachother, so no, you cannot use those terms. Honestly guys, if she's seen your penis once, there's always a chance of her seeing it again. Small chance sure (think dumb and dumber here - "so you're saying there's a chance) but it's there. And you can call me out on the "friends zone" bullshit all day long, but one way to guarantee it's never gonna happen again is by calling her BUDDY.

In Everyone's Belly Button, is a Little Bit of Cum

Now, how this statement came about, is really irrelevant. BUT while sailing on a catamaran for two weeks, with a lot of time to lounge around and soak up the sun, and have random thoughts running through my head, I realized, that I believe that statement to be 95% true.

I mean, "everyone" might be a bit of an exaggeration. There's exceptions to that: celibate people, those who just don't like sex, the really young/old extremes may have a less likely chance of it - but still not excluded... lesbians? them I'm not sure about, but anyway, pretty much everyone.

AND I'm not talking about massive amounts. I'm gonna assume the average joe who has the average amount of sex, has still got some. Not a noticeable amount, but if you CSI DNA swabbed that shit, 95%. Yup! it'd be present. True story.

And I welcome ALL arguments. Please prove me wrong! Tell me why you disagree. But I really doubt it. That's right people. It's all about equality. We're all in this together. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Let's just embrace it.

I saw a female comedian at a festival once. She started off her set by looking around at all the girls and simply saying "Ladies, let's just think bout something for a second.... We put penises in our mouths" ... .... ... .... ... .... ... .... ... .... Then She was silent. That all she needed to say, and the girls just looked from one another, acknowledging that statement in silent affirmation.

And that's what I want you to do now, friends. Just think about it, for a second... ... .... .... ..... ... .... ... .... ... ..... In everyone's bellybutton, is a little bit of cum. Am i wrong?

Why Don't You Just Settle Down?

I read something the other day captioned "Don't Settle, Do What's Right For You". Without even realizing it, those word got to me. Hours later, I was thinking about this word: SETTLE. Let's discuss.

Ever since the early stages of life, this word has had a negative connotation. "Settle Down". "Calm Down". Seriously! If it wasn't for your parents, it was your teachers. And what did they really mean? It wasn't encouragement for you to continue what you were doing. Singling, dancing, socializing with your friends, having fun! It was a demand! At conforming! Sit down. Shut up. Listen up. "I am 'the man', and you will obey me".

Fastforward to teenage and adult life. You start dating, you always go after the jerks, you want to belong, but you get treated like shit. And the advice you get? "He wasn't good enough for you! Don't settle for that!" I'd like to believe that's the reason I've mainly been single. That no ones managed to impress me enough to give them a chance. But that's probably not it. Do I settle? Maybe,

But now, haha, welcome to your 30's! And the questions crushing your spirits: "Why haven't you settled down yet?". "You should get a career, and settle down". I just want to yell at these people. Because I'm a rebel and I do what I want! I won't do it. I won't have a house and 2.5 kids - 'because that's what a well behaved girl my age should do'. I'm gonna wait, for that head over heels love to find me instead of settling for mediocrity. And how 'bout I continue living my life in the mean time? If that means singing, dancing, traveling, and being naked while I do it, then cheers!

So when you talk so fondly of having "settled down" please excuse me that I don't have those warm gushy feelings exploding from me. It's never been a positive before!

I Just Want You To Love Me

Relationships.
What a complicated concept! (I truly think this, but really wish they were simple). Can two people actually want the exact same things? Isn't one person always going to fall harder than the other? Is there a way to just be happy without the addition of jealousy or insecurity or resentment?

I recently read a book in which the author talked about the "perfect relationship". She describes the actions and emotions you go through when you first start dating someone. When you are "pretending to be the person your partner wants you to be". Let's stop there for a second and think about this. It is true. At the beginning, you are pretending to be the person they want you to be.

When I like someone, I fall into the category of being the "cool girl". I never get jealous, I encourage him to spend time with his friends, and I support his passions and part-take in his hobbies. But maybe these actions aren't how I truly want to act (I want him to spend more time with me, to only have eyes for me, to PROVE how much he likes me in return).

The guys do it too. All the little things to "woo" you: the gestures, surprise kisses, walks holding hands, and fun date nights. (When really, his buddy's are at a game he could be at, he'd never normally skip the gym, and would much rather be eating chips and watching an action movie). Are we all just acting?

The author talks about the times when things start going wrong (end of the honeymoon period) that's when you finally start acting like yourself. But (MIND BLOWN) the other person doesn't really know the real you, and maybe they don't necessarily LIKE who YOU are. They want the  person you were pretending to be; that's the person they "fell for".

Well shit, I think this is spot on! I totally think this is the way it works! And you know what, it sucks. It sucks that this is the way things are. That you get people to fall for a lie, and then by proxy have to keep that lie up order to keep that person around. Maybe that person IS better. The non-jealous, non-dramatic, encouraging, selfless you.

So now I wanna ask all my friends in happy relationships to give me their two cents. Please tell me that there is a happily ever after that includes less pretending and more accepting (and keep in mind that accepting and conforming/settling are two different things)

An overdue update

Hello internet world. What could I tell you? I was going insane at my corporate job in Canada. The 50 hour work weeks for no money and too must stress wasn't really doing it for me. Plus, I wanted to be self sufficient... live alone and stuff. Well, I couldn't afford it on my "assistant" corporate salary, and after trying for about a year, I decided that I just needed more than one job.

Fastforward to that time I hadn't slept for weeks straight (actually, I was working 110hour weeks and commuting in between) got to the epitamy of physically ill (my body's only way of rebelling at that point, cuz sleep wasn't happening) and ended up in the hospital. Time for a vacation I thought.

I set off to Ireland for three weeks to drink with the Irish, and a few weeks later, ended up living in Australia!

"She must've gotten really drunk" is what you must be thinking, but nope. While trying to figure out a way to not have to return to my stressful "everyday" existence, it was pointed out to me some age restrictions for working abroad, and when push came to shove, I ditched my "everyday" and moved along.

So in other news, that last post I wrote makes me laugh a bunch. To remember how things used to be and not being ready to make the decision, to it being made for me in the long run, and now me loving my everyday.

I have a travel blog with my stories as well, but this one... well on here, I'm just gonna write about a lot of sex-related stuff. Hope everyone's cool with that :)

In.Bed.By.9.

I've always wanted to live the life of a rockstar. Travel the world. Drink lots. Go on crazy adventures with fun people. Maybe break the law a little bit. 

For a while, I had my own rockstar-type adventures: Drove all night to a far off towns for a rock show. Slept in the car. Had no money. Flirted my way into places. Or just broke in. Only worked contract jobs when I had to. I knew people. I crowd surfed every week. I belted out lyrics until my voice was gone. I smashed cars for fun. Then danced on their rooftops. It was a hell of a time. 

But somewhere along the line I fell into the corporate trap. That deep well you fall into. When you're up and dressed by 7 am. And working 12hour days to help the man get rich, a handfull of times each week. The wearing of the collared shirts, and lack of a half sleeve tattoo on my arm, makes me feel like 'hey, I've made it this far through life playing according to society's rules, should I really stop now?' 

But the conversations I have with people still living their life according to their rockstar dreams, makes me think that, yes, maybe things could be different. Maybe I could stay up all night. And fall asleep to the lights of the sunrise. Maybe I could rock out on empty streets. When the drunken debauchery disappears. And the world sleeps. The outdoor sex possibilities. And the blood pumping adrenaline from knowing that you do what you want. And no one is around to judge you. Or stop you. Or say discouraging things. It all makes the void in my life very present. , 

Could rockstar living be the better alternative to a life full of schedules and meetings? Should I dive further into corporate culture and become one of those people? Those who have their lives so together that they want to wake up at 4am. To go for a run. And eat breakfast. And play guitar, before going to their 8am jobs? Should I be in bed by dusk without leading any type of social existence? Besides an early dinner. With a class of wine. No dessert? 

Shit,  if I didn't love sleep. And naps. And laying down daydreaming with my eyes closed so much, I'd consider eliminating sleep all together. I'd be happy just be awake living life always. And not just a portion of each day... But those times when you're in bed with someone you care about, sharing silence... those are moments that shouldn't be taken for granted, or taken away. Meaning, our days are already filled with too many to-do's, and sleep is awesome. 

What's my point? I guess I'm trying to make that life-altering decision as to what I want in the near future. Do I want to party like a rockstar? And live it up? Causing chaos before I run out of time? Will I leave corporate bullshit? Or will I decide to pay by the rules of vacation days that are scheduled in advance? Of punching in and punching out. And getting shitty healthcare as an added bonus? Will I one day just snap. And get on my motorcycle. And ride into the sunset towards Guatemala, with no plans to ever return? Will I stress out trying to find a part time gig that will in tern takes away all my free time? 

I want to blog., And I want to get my frustrations out. And I want to rock out and stay out late! But my eyes grow droopy when those covers hit my legs. I can't stay awake. I'm in bed by 9.