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Butterflies

My first romantic experience with a boy came in the 8th grade. His name was Jon (no “h”), he had red hair (I’ve always had a thing for guys with red hair – yes I know, I am capable of attraction to men other than those of the black persuasion), and his family had just moved into my neighbourhood. Actually, he was a transplanted American, so he was also the first non-Canadian boy (which apparently became somewhat of a trend in my life).

Being from a warmer state and arriving in the dead of winter he was wholly unprepared, opting to wear shorts in the middle of February to his first day of school. He had a winter coat at least, but the image he makes in my head is quite odd – skinny stick legs poking out of boarder shorts, a winter coat bulking up his torso, and a mop of red hair.

Despite his clear awkwardness in life, we shyly grew closer as Winter turned to Spring and then to Summer. At least, as close as things can grow when you’re as inexperienced as we were (oh those were the days when I waited until at least the SECOND date to sleep with someone). One warm evening at dusk we decided to go for a walk down our street alone, and it was while we were walking that he grabbed my hand.

I was shocked that a boy that wasn’t a relative was touching me, and I felt giddy and happy and those familiar butterflies – imagine, from something as innocent and as simple as hand-holding.

Eventually Jon and I parted ways and never made it past the hand-holding stage (no folks, he never even made it to first base, clearly things have changed in my dating life).

At times I get the same feeling from A – those butterflies that come from something new, from someone you genuinely like. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that and I’m really enjoying it.

And for the record: it’s so much better at 30 than it was at 14.

butterfly love

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Why I date black men

I am a white woman and I love black men.

Any long-time reader would have probably picked up on that by now.

My first schoolgirl crush, in the 5th grade, was a boy named Ryan. He was black. My third real-life crush was another black boy named Jordan in the 8th grade. Since I’ve been old enough to be attracted to the opposite sex I have been attracted to both white and black boys, with the majority of real-life attraction being directed at the darker segment of the gender.

Aside: I am differentiating between real life and celebrity attractions because Teen Bop and Tiger Beat didn’t really have black guys in their magazines that I can remember – I just remember a lot of Jonathan Taylor Thomas!

This will probably be a post full of contradictions, nonsensical rambling, and generalizations but I’ve been thinking a lot about why I tend to date black men exclusively – is it me, is it them, is it something else? I’ve come to the conclusion that there are a few reasons, all of which are interrelated in some way.

Another aside, which is clearly my favourite thing in whole world: I started thinking about this after my father found out about A and suggested that my penchant for black men may say something about me – though I’m thinking that his notice of the skin colour of my choice in men also says something about him. Oh snap.

oreo

I love the ease in which black men are men. They are confident in their masculinity, they own it, and they flaunt it. I love that. The thing is, I want a man, with zero blurred lines – my feeling, as well as my experience, tell me that my chances of finding the kind of man that I’m looking for among the black population is greater than in the white population.

I think in part due to the abovementioned confidence, black men are the only men to ever approach me. I can’t even remember the last time I was hit on by a white man – it just doesn’t happen.  The few and brief encounters I have had with white men in the recent past have been mediocre at best – sometimes clumsy, sometimes awkward, and sometimes I’ll think I’ve met someone who has that confidence factor I love until I find out he’s really just arrogant (one particular guy comes to mind!)

Then there is the sex. It’s just been better with black men, and it has nothing to do with penis size (I swear). Maybe it’s their rhythm, or their confidence, or a combination of multiple factors that makes the sex better (based on prior experience). Or maybe I’m just not meeting the right white guys (entirely likely given the above paragraph). In any case, black men take their time and do things slowly – there’s been no wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am moments, even with the youngest of them I’ve been with. They’ve known where to touch me, how to touch me, and when to touch me without much direction from me. To put it bluntly, it’s rare for me to not climax when I’ve been with black men – the opposite is true of my experiences with white men.

Having said all of the above though, I just really love men in general – black, white, or any other colour.

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There’s a lot of “like” around here these days

You know I’m in serious like with someone when I bake them cookies.

A got home late last night from work after a long day. I asked him half-jokingly whether he wanted me to make him cookies. He said yes. I made chocolate chip cookies and then dropped them off at his place.

foodofourlives.com

foodofourlives.com

I think I’m in trouble!

I never updated about our trip to Niagara Falls this weekend – it is part of the “things to do in Canada” list that can now be crossed off. We had a lot of fun and took a lot of pictures. At one point we were holding hands and it felt good. I swear I’m not usually like this, I don’t know what this man does to me. I usually shun lovey-dovey stuff so this is quite a different side of myself. I’m not sure whether I like it – I don’t want to be one of those women (you know the kind I’m talking about!).

In other news, and with the exception of Mr. Basketball who has been MIA for weeks now, all the men on the side have now been told that I’m not available for anything romantic. I guess that really does make it official…

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Not the greatest start to the week

Mr. Jamaica texted me to ask whether he could see me this week. I haven’t really spoken to him in a couple weeks so he didn’t know yet about the change in my relationship status.

So I told him. It didn’t go particularly well, but it also wasn’t great. I think he was hurt and disappointed and I don’t like doing that to anyone.

But I also don’t like stringing people along, and things are somewhat serious with A, so it’s time to place ALL men into the “friends” category.

Mr. Jamaica asked if he could see me one more time. I don’t know whether this is a good idea – why would he want to see me if he knows there’s nothing to pursue?

51b97246c89c3_576

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Canada, eh?

I have decided to make the most of A being here for the next few weeks. As such, I have started a list of “Canadian” things to expose him to so he can get as much of the Canadian experience as possible.

It’s too bad I didn’t meet him months ago – not only would it give me more time to accomplish the list, but there are so many things Canadians do during the summer months that I (obviously) can’t include.

The “To Do” list is as follows:

  1. Eat poutine
  2. Ice skate outside
  3. Go to an NHL game
  4. Visit Niagara Falls
  5. Celebrate Halloween
  6. Toboggan

Unless I’m really lucky (or unlucky, depending on the perspective) #2 and #7 will not happen as we haven’t been getting a good snowfall or cold snap until December or January. At the very least I may try and get him to an indoor rink though it’s not the same experience at all. #3 may also not happen because tickets can be hard to come by with only a few weeks notice unless you can spend over $200 per ticket (I will not, crazy Leafs’ fans).

#4 and #5 will be knocked off in one go, probably this weekend, when we visit Niagara Falls AND the Nightmares Factory – which is honestly the scariest experience I remember having. I didn’t let go of my sister the entire time we walked through the haunted house and at some points I just gave up and closed my eyes.

I am happy to say that the “Completed” list has two entries already!

  1. Eat maple donuts from Tim Horton’s (maple AND Tim Horton’s – it doesn’t get much more Canadian than that)
  2. Visit the CN Tower

A and I went to the CN Tower Saturday evening after our double date plans were cancelled. I haven’t been there in years and I’m glad I got to spend the time with him and experience it again. We went just after sunset and it was beautiful. Toronto really does feel like home.

He then came back home with me, for the 2nd night in a row. I love having him sleep beside me and am taking full advantage of it while I can.

A looking out at the city

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I Can See Why You’re Single

More winning.

1. Oh god, the “hi and may I” guy is back

But this time he dropped the “may I” so I give him some props for that.


2. Not only is this a complete grammar fail….

…but he repeated it twice, and in less than 12 hours no less.


3. Random alert


At least it’s good he got right to the point?


4. WTF


I can’t say a man has ever wanted to make me his bubbly queen before.

5. Actually, you’re wrong….


…I am immensely scared of your recklessness towards correct spelling.