I'm "It"

I've been tagged by the devine Delicieux over at Cynically Yours. It's been so long since I've been tagged I hope I remember how to...you know, do IT. Like riding a bicycle I suspose, but without all the ass chapping.

1. Do you have the same friends since childhood?

Yes, but only the really interesting ones. Actually, that's not true. My best friend in the WORLD was Cindy (her real name). Cindy was my invisible friend when I was a kid. Until that fateful day when my sister Kiki stole Cindy from me. And my world was never quite the same. I've had the same girlfriends since junior high. Not sure why they put up with me. But they do

2. What do you value most about your friends?

My friends make me laugh, they make me cry. They know when I need to be bitch slapped, they know when I need to be hugged. They are loyal and protective and there for me when I need them. We don't need to be in contact 24/7. If it's been a while, we pick up right where we left off. There's no ego's involved. Except my gigantic one.

3. Are your friends your sounding boards?

No. I keep my ideas to myself. That way no one thinks I've completely lost it and become a nutter. Some times I write about my ideas. Like this.

4. What is your favorite activity to share with your friends?

Pillow fights, in our underwear. Like you couldn't guess.

And now according to the rules, I have to list 5 things under each of the following headers, and pass this award on to 5 more people

10 Years ago I:
- Was newly seperated from my husband
- Was a single mother
- Had a mad crush on my info systems professor
- Weighed 115 pounds
- Was so poor I washed our clothes in the bath tub

5 things on today's "To do" list:

- Sign up for NaNoWriMo

- Help Aidan with his school project (I want an A!)

- Kiss Paul

- Drink a glass of wine, ok maybe three

- Tackle the laundry

5 snacks that I enjoy:
- Wine (it's a snack right?)

- Cheddar cheese

- Cheesecake bites

- Chippies

- Paul

5 things I would do if I were a millionaire:

- Quit my job, seriously

- Pay off my debts (hmmm, that would only leave a couple bucks ;)

- Pay a shrink to fix my airplane phobia

- Travel the world

- Have a personal massage therapist and hairdresser on staff, 24/7, mmmmmm

5 places that I have lived:

- in a womb

- in an apartment

- in a condo

- in a rental house

- in my own house

5 jobs that I have had:

- Waitress

- Private Investigator

- Personal Assistant

- Reporter

- Editor

Alrightly, that about does it for this tagged chicka. I know I'm supposed to tag 5 people. But I'm a rebel. I roll like that ;)

Q and A with Paul, The Gettin' Hitched Edition

Via the phone...

Me: Let's get right to the juicy stuff. What do you think about your ex-wife offering to help plan our wedding?
Paul: [laughs] Typical. I have no interest in taking her up on that offer.
Me: Glad you cleared THAT up.

Me: How many hours do you estimate you spent looking for the perfect ring for me?
Paul: [adding out loud] 25 total.
Me: How does this compare to the number of hours you masturbate?
Paul: [laughs] That's less than 25 hours total a week.

Me: When did you know I was THE ONE?
Paul: Waking up with you and realizing I wanted to do that forever. And that purr that you do.

Me: Moving on. Describe in one word what marriage means to you.
Paul: A commitment.
Me: That's two words.
Paul: This is hard! I thought you loved me [pouts]. I would say commitment but that's not what marriage means to me.
Me: What the?
Paul: [continuing] A partnership with someone you want to share the rest of your life with. I guess I'd have to use "share" if I had to put it in one word. And I don't mean the singer [Cher].
Me: Where's a drum roll when you need one.

Me: Do you think I should change my name when we get married?
Paul: I'm of two opinions: I love the idea of you having my last name - it means you're mine.
Me: [Picturing Paul in a loin cloth carrying me over his shoulder back to the cave].
Paul: But your maiden name - it's who you are. If I was more nouveau, we'd make up our own last name.

Me: What's the first thing you want to do after we get hitched?
Paul: [laughs] Right after? Walk hand in hand [censored]. Kiss you senseless [censored] and hold on to you saying, "mine forever."

Me: What's the one tradition you want to include in our wedding?
Paul: Pardon?
Me: What's the one tradition you want to include in our wedding?
Paul: I thought you said "position". Tradition...I see it as more of a simple affair.
Me: [Picturing hot dogs and beer].

Me: Do you think I will turn into a Bridezilla?
Paul: A what?
Me: [Long explanation as to what this is]. I'm sure it's a non-issue. Now get back to making those guest favors!!!

Me: What's the one household chore you will least like to do when we're married?
Paul: Cleaning the showers and putting away the laundry.
Me: So, pretty much the same as now. How will we decide who does what around the house?
Paul: I think it'll be easy. I'll be doing more cooking than cleaning.
Me: I see you've already put some thought into this.

Me: What's your biggest fear about getting married?
Paul: Comfort. I'm afraid I'll become comfortable and won't be trying as hard. I fear taking you for granted and not showing you how special you are.
Me: Don't worry, I won't let you forget.

Me: What's the best part about getting married?
Paul: [long pause] Someone to share everything with.
Me: I thought you would say "more sex".
Paul: Honey, it's hard to get more sex than I do now.
Me: [Thinking to myself perhaps it's time to attend a support meeting].

Me: Did you purpose on New Year's Eve so that you will never forget our engagement anniversary?
Paul: No [laughs].

Me: Have you ever lied to me?
Paul: White lies...that's it.
Me: Ahem! Like sorry I didn't call hon, my cell phone battery died. Like that?

Me: How would you describe my decorating style?
Paul: Unfortunately you don't have a lot of money. But if you did, it would be light and colorful. I'm more "dark."
Me: Uh huh. What will happen to my "hand me down furniture" once we move in together?
Paul: It's going to look great in our rec room.
Me: Ouch.

Q and A with Paul

I thought it would be fun to "interview" Paul with some Q and A about yours truly for a blog post (oh hindsight you are sooooo 20/20). Lines that appear within this [ and ] are my inner thoughts to Paul's answers and were in no way uttered aloud during this Q and A exercise.

Via phone...

Me: What shoes was I wearing on our first date?
Paul: The black high heeled ones. I had to carry you up the hill pretending I wasn’t out of breath. It gave me a chance to check out your butt!
Me: [gives a "look" and then remembers we're chatting over the phone and "looks" don't work over the phone].

Me: What surprised you the most about me?
Paul: Your dirty mind.

Me: What’s your favorite Erika-undies?
Paul: The ones on the side of the bed.
Me: Wa-wa-waaaaa
Paul: The purple with black flowers or leaves or something that you bought at LaSenza.
Me: [Hmmm...quite the "safe answer" because he's just described about 5 pairs I have].

Me: Most awkward date moment?
Paul: Meeting your parents while sick.

Me: What Erika-ism-esque phrase do I say the most?
Paul: [laughs] [whistles] [laughs more] [coughs] I plead the 5th.

Me: When I say I'm doing "self-maintenance" what do you think that means?
Paul: [laughs] Plucking your eyebrow.
Me: Eyebrow!
Paul: Eyebrows. Eyebrows! Except you don't have any. Probably your nails. And probably some things I shouldn't know about because you're always so mysterious about self-maintenance.

Me: How many times have I beaten your ass at Scrabble?
Paul: Crap. I don’t know...25-30% of the time.
Me: [Thinking....it's way higher but I'll stay quiet to preserve your manhood/ego].

Me: What do you really think about my blog?
Paul: I’ve never really read it.
Me: [This is actually untrue. I have "allowed" Paul to read a few select posts. Very select as you can imagine].

Me: Name a crazy thing you’ve done for my love?
Paul: Called you from Europe on a cell phone. Spent 7 hours looking for the perfect present for you in Italy. Drove an hour and a half home in the pouring rain after our first date and called you at 3:30 in the morning to say I arrived home ok and had an amazing time.
Me: [Good answer].

Me: Name 3 things you wish I had in my kitchen?
Paul: A good set of knives, a good sized cutting board.
Me [Interrupting]: I just got a new cutting board.
Paul: Yes, you got a bit bigger cutting board. I mean an even bigger cutting board. And a good set of pots.
Me: I have a set of pots.
Paul: Yes, but I mean a good set. Yours are thin and things are always burning to the bottom.

Me: Moving on. Describe my decorating style?
Paul: Bright.
Me: What?
Paul: [mumbles and stammers and tries to explain what he meant]

Me: Do I make a good cup of coffee?
Paul: It's a little weak. But it's ok.
Me: I thought that's how you liked it?
Paul: No. I like strong coffee.

Me: We haven't had our first fight yet. What do you think it will be about?
Paul: Your jealousy.
Me: What? [Just because I'm annoyed that Paul's still friends with a crazy ex-girlfriend who calls him all hours with her drama is not the same thing as being jealous].

And then we preceded to get in our first fight. Irony, how you bitch-slap thee.

Answering Your Burning Questions, #5

Today's question comes from Anonymous, whom I've affectionately dubbed Phil.

He writes: "How do you recommend approaching women like you who run or go to the gym? (By the way, I am a charter pilot, we pilots have a hard time meeting women)."

My answer: With caution.

It's hard to approach a woman at the gym. We're usually focused on the task at hand and in quite precarious poses (on the pilates ball, doing a dead lift, etc). And we naturally assume that guys are ogling our tits and asses. Therefore, guys who do approach us at the gym seem kind of creepy (though I'm sure you are the exception to the rule Phil ;) Besides, we want to get in and out without guys noticing that we're not wearing makeup, have a wedgie (or worse...camel toe) and a bad case of boob sweat.

It's much easier to approach a woman runner (from behind) and say something complimentary like "You've got a great pace". But only if she doesn't have an MP3 player or else she might mistakenly assume you're a mugger and go Taebo on your ass. And naturally, we'll still assume that you were ogling our asses.

It's a dating jungle gym out there. There's no "right way" anymore when it comes to dating and mating. There is however the "gentlemanly way", the "jerkoff way" and the "have been in prison too long" way. I find being irresistibly charming and direct always works.

Hope this helps Phil!

Answering Your Burning Questions, #4

Today's question comes from Sara.

She writes: "Dear R-N-D, How do I approach a guy at the coffee shop, "Batman and Throbbin'" feature at the movieplex, or pirate convention and let him know that I'm interested?"

My answer:

At the coffee shop: walk up to the guy, smile and say "Hi."

At Batman and Throbbin': "All this could be yours for one low, low price."

At the pirate convention: "Is there an 'X' on the seat of your pants? Because it appears that there's wond'rous booty buried underneath!"

Of course it goes without saying which one is my personal favorite and works best. Men (while trying to appear complex) are actually simple savages. And they like wenches who dig for buried treasure (even while the parrot's watching). If you know what I mean. Oh, you don't. Ah, me either.

[Click here for more pirate pick up lines].

Answering Your Burning Questions, #3

Today's question comes from James.

He writes, "Where do I find a gorgeous, interesting, intelligent, active girl? (And preferrably one that fancies me).

My answer: At my house.

But seriously ;)

If you want food, you go to the grocery store. So, following that line of reasoning, if you want a gorgeous/interesting/intelligent/active girl, she can only be found in one place...at your local library. Under "fiction."

But seriously ;)

Like attracts like. Unless ofcourse you're complete opposites, and then, well, the opposite is true.

Perhaps you're not sending the proper message out to the universe?

Ok, here's how it works. The universe is made up of a big ball of energy. When we send out thoughts, they too are energy and the universe responds to our energy with...you guessed it...energy. The universe wants to give us what we want. Like REALLY wants to.

But you need to be really specific about the kind of girl you're looking for. Like REALLY specific (for example: has cute little mole on left side of stomach. I completely just made that up out of the blue BTW) or else the universe may get confused and send you Rosie O'Donnell.

Pour yourself a drink. Put on some [insert mood music here] and try making a list of every quality that pops into your head. Quiet the inner critic (with a second drink). And check your list twice (hey, it works for Santa!). Put the list next to your bed. It should be the first thing you look at when you wake up and the last thing you look at when you go to bed at night (for now). Give it 30 days and if the universe doesn't send you the woman you seek...

Then I guess I was wrong. You probably thought I was going to tell you "just be yourself" and all that crap huh.

*hugs* Hope this helps!

Answering Your Burning Questions, #2

Today's question comes from Tom.

He writes, "Dear R-N-D, should I ever confess to a girl I'm dating about how many women I've slept with?"

My answer: Not unless the answer is 1. Even if that IS your actual answer you risk sounding like a girly-man who just couldn't get his act together enough to fool some impresonable and/or drunk women into sleeping with him. (Or even worse, a man who has respect for women and chooses to worship them for the goodesses they are - blech). And any number higher than your age makes you sound like a man-whore.

FYI - girls can see through the old "you're the only one that matters to me" line from a mile away.

So what's a guy to do?

You could go for the fail safe "baker's dozen" which not everyone knows is 13 (ie. giving you that one "freebie"). Or you could use one of the following actual math formulas to come up with a plausable number:

And Tom, you're welcome.

[Got a burning question that doesn't require topical cream? Then email me at redhead-next-door@hotmail.com for advice you won't find anywhere else!]

Survey Says...

5 Things You May Not Know About Me

Today's post was pirated from fellow blogger Peter DeWolf who, let's be honest, inspires most of us with his all kinds of awesomeness.

5 Things You May Not Know About Me (Or perhaps more aptly named, 5 Things You Wish You Never Knew About Me):

- I am currently afflicted with a "touch" of laryngitis.
Cons: Am on the verge of cancelling plans for this weekend unless I brush up on my charades skills
Pros: Sexy gravelly Kathleen Turner-esque voice (or voice of a 20-year pack-a-day smoker). May finally have a legitimate reason to use finger puppets on a date.

- I have a mole on my right nipple.
Cons: Cindy Crawford made the upper lip mole sexy but to my knowledge there has not been a campaign to increase awareness and acceptance of moles on breasts.
Pros: Showing random people my breast...er, mole.

- I think this season of the OC sucks ***!
Cons: Not seeing Benjamin McKenzie brood while wearing his trademark wife beater.
Pros: Not seeing Benjamin McKenzie beat someone's *** while wearing his trademark wife beater.

- I drive a Toyota that's 10 years old.
Cons: Possibly hitch hiking to work.
Pros: Being able to say I drive a "classic." Plus, it has a sunroof that gives me that sexy wind blown look in the summer, and a "sunroof" tan.

- I make a mean plate of stuffed mushrooms
Cons: Being able to cook little else.
Pros: Appearing somewhat competent in the kitchen, especially when mushrooms are accompanied by wine (lots and lots of wine).

This wasn't as easy as it looks - so what don't I know about you?

Answering Your Burning Questions

Today's question comes from Amy.

She writes: "What are Tangy Tarts?"

My answer: "Only the best sugary tarty sour sweetness you've ever tasted!"

Mmmmm....

[Bloggers Note: I couldn't find a pic of Tangy Tarts, so here's a pic of Zingy Zaps which are actually my number one favorite candy.]

Career Theory: Providing Answers to Life's Awkward Social Questions

This week I travelled to the Hub city. And that can only mean one thing [Ok, maybe two]: I wanted to put my LaSenza discount membership card to good use, or for some training for work. It might not be an either/or situation, or it might. I'll exercise my right to maintain a bit of mystery. And perhaps a bit of dignity.

I'm an employment counsellor. Which is much like being a regular sort of counsellor in that you hear people complain, er..."share" a lot but you don't get paid quite as well. Not by the hour at least. Which is much like being a street walker. But I digress...

Sometimes the sharing is about their careers, or lack thereof. Other times you're privy to TMI, like the warts they got "down there" because their husband's extra-martial conquest gave him a burning, itching, festering parting gift. Often, you're the only one this person has to talk to. Probably for good reason. I can imagine it is hard to maintain composure for a non-professional, much less keep down what you ate for breakfast, while hearing about such things. And the mental images. Oh my *** the mental images. Hold me tight Bruno.

This week's session was a refresher course on basic career theory. I won't bore you with the in's and outs, unless ofcourse you are on the edge of your seats in anticipation (in which case, email me and I'll divulge all my worldly knowledge. Or at least the part I took notes on).

Blah blah blah. I wasn't paying attention when it hit me; the server who was refilling our water pitcher gave me a knock on the back of the head "accidentally" with her tray. Ok, now I was awake. And bleeding. Which is good (well not the bleeding part, but the awake part). Because what was about to happen, was big. Monumental. We're talking Superman versus Batman monumental.

Our faciliatator reminded us, it's all in how you frame something. No, not that way. This way. For someone who is unemployed, they feel better if they say they are "between jobs". And there it was. So simple. The key to handling life's awkward social questions. The answer to the question I get asked over and over, and over.

Question (usually from insensitive smug marrieds): "Why are you single?"
Answer (usually from me, unless I feel like using Ed the no-nonsense sock puppet to speak on my behalf): "I'm between husbands right now."

Absolutely. Bloody. Brilliant!

And applicable to other "don't deserve a decent answer to that question" questions.

Question: "Why does that dog always **** on my leg?"
Answer: "I'm between dog trainers right now."

Question: "What's that smell?"
Answer: "I'm between showers right now."

[Note: These are only examples. I do not have a dog. And I do shower. Twice daily.]

The beauty of this framing is, there's no way the questioner can come back from that. End of questions.

Question askers = 0
Erika = 1

[Note: linen napkins are very absorbent and can assist with superficial head wounds.]

Sorry Ma'am, We Don't Sell That

This has got to be some sort of record. It's been an exhausting two+ weeks of online dating and I have decided to delete my profile.

Hmmm, why you ask? Well could it be that...
a) I've met someone absolutely delightful
b) A computer virus has been unleased destroying hard drives of online daters, so I'm taking evasive action ASAP
c) Have quickly realized there are no fish worth catching in the online sea
d) Am accepted into the seminary

Yes, it's "c". In the words of Undercover Mother's daughter Bridget, it's like looking for Filet Mingnon at the corner store. They just don't sell it.

Besides, it was just for fun. And it was becoming quite the opposite of fun...work perhaps? I have no problem attending functions by myself but thought how nice it would be to have someone spin me around the dance floor. Have you ever tried to spin yourself? It's quite tricky really.

Pity party, table for one?

First up is my end-of-the-softball-season dance at the end of the month. Cost = $5 per couple. Coach said to make sure to bring our husbands/boyfriends.

Me: "What if you don't have a boyfriend?"
Coach: "You don't have a boyfriend? You don't have a boyfriend?" [No, there was no echo, he really asked me twice]
Me: "No."
Coach: "What's wrong with you that you don't have a boyfriend?"
Me: "Er, if I knew that I'd have a boyfriend."
Coach: "You don't have a boyfriend? Well, if you don't have a boyfriend, $2 for you."

I have a feeling that single men do not have to go through this type of humiliation.

Random Compliment, #2

Yesterday morning, I spent an hour in my dentist's chair only to find out my brand spanking new oral appliances (one for day, one for night) didn't fit properly. In fact, my daytime appliance got stuck on my lower teeth. And since I am sporting a pair of french tip fake nails, I couldn't be of any assistance. In fact, this is one of many times during this week I needed assistance because of my nails (starting a new roll of tape for my dispenser, folding socks, and zipping up my pants to name a few). But they look fabulous.

My dentist is part of some cutting edge stuff when it comes to minimizing the effects of TMJ. If this doesn't work, I'll have to get braces. It's my teenage nightmare coming true, 15 years later. Only worse. Braces in high school are common; a fair share of nerds, geeks and uber band geeks get them. But women, single women at that, single sexy women at the age of 30... name one. Ok, possibly me.

Apparently, it isn't bad enough that my current night appliance slightly resembles the plastic mouth guard worn by sports participants like boxers and hockey players. It makes it quite difficult to talk providing a slight lisp, and ups the drool factor when sleeping. Painting a pretty picture eh? Needless to say, I've only ever had one boyfriend I felt comfortable enough wearing it around. And, he was usually asleep when I put it in. Strangely enough my last boyfriend had the exact same mouth guard; at first I thought it was a sign that he might be "the one". [Note to self: plastic mouth accessories are not relationship indicators].

Back in my dentist's chair...

My dentist is telling me they'll have to take another mold of my upper jaw, when in walks an old man. He's completely starting at me (in his defence I did have on my very flatering pink v-neck long-sleeve clingy cotton t-shirt).

Old Man: "Wow, you are beautiful! I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. "
Me: [blushing] "Why thank you" [I smile]
Old Man: "Are you married?"
Me: "No, I'm divorced."
Old Man: "What the hell was wrong with your husband? You're beautiful. If I was 90 years younger, I'd be on you. You're so beautiful."
Me: "Um, thanks, you're sweet." [and slightly perverted]
Dentist: "Now [Old Man's Name] you've been married for 64 years, you don't want to start getting into trouble now."
Old Man: "Are you kidding, look at her. Why do you get all the pretty ones Doctor? Must be your sex appeal." [chuckles]

If you knew my dentist, you would also chuckle. Sex appeal = zero. I think it's partly due to the the large wooly-esque caterpillars, er....eyebrows he sports.

The old man proceeded to ask me questions about where I was from and left after giving me a Worthens candy; I saved it (you know, in case it had love potion #9 in it or something). Then I thanked him as he'd made my day. Because truthfully, old man or not, he did. It had less to do with what he said, and more to do with his intention, trying to bring a smile to someone's face.

Wait a minute, am I getting philosophical here? Must have been that glass of rum ;)

You've Got Male, and Male, and Male, and Male and Male

And so it's begun. Online "dating" aka looking for a cool *** guy to accompany me to several events. The flirting and typos are amuck. Tonight I was working my "A game" - simultaneously having 5 conversations with potential male-arm-candy or "Mandy" as I've now dubbed them. It's a good thing I'm a quick typer.

Not all of it was good news. I've already started attracting the weirdos/dumb-as-a-stick-ers. For your viewing pleasure here's a sample. What you are about to read are from real online instant message conversations thanks to the proud livestock, er, members of Lavalife. There's no way I could make **** like this up. Typos and lack of punctuation are included for the full effect.

Guy #1: knock...knock...anyone home?
Me: Who's there?
Guy #1: big bad wolf
Me: Sorry, wrong number!

[Bloggers Note: It's 3 hours later and I'm still laughing my *** off over that one. I think I let a little bit of pee go].


Guy #2: hey whats up
Me: Hi there. Just checking my email. What's up with you?
Guy #2: jsut realxing after a hard dsays work
[probable English translation: just relaxing after a hard days work]
Me: Nice :)
Guy #2: so whats up with you wanna trade backstage
Me: Just reading your profile. Sure - I'll send it. I only have one pic backstage right now. Here you go.
Guy #2: pretty so do you have msn
[probable English translation: You're smokin' hot! and something or other about msn]
Me: Yes.
Guy #2: hers mine but hodl yoru brath dont want yiou to faint when yio see how hot i am
[possible English translation: here's mine but hold your breath you don't want to faint when you see how hot I am.] Although wouldn't holding ones breath assist with fainting?
Me: I'm at [provides email address...I know - mistake!]
Guy #2: can you add m
Me: I tried to view your backstage but it said I didn't have access. I guess I'll have to hold off on the fainting.
Guy #2: giv it a min
Me: ok [rolled eyes here]


Guy #3: hi how ru?
Me: Great thanks - how are you?
Guy #3: not bad thx wat r u up to?
[probable English translation: Not bad thanks what are you up to hot stuff?]
Me: Just checking my email before I head out for a run.
Guy #3: nice where to? [warning: potential stalker]
Me: I haven't decided yet. I do this to avoid stalkers.
Guy #3: here is my bs could I see yours
[I'm assuming he was referring to his "backstage" i.e. photo gallery]
Me: Starting with the b***s*** already eh. I only have one pic there right now but here you go.
Guy #3: thanks not a bad picture at all [sigh...my prince charming]
At this point my other conversations are way more interesting and I can't even pretend to be interested.
Guy #3: MSN is [provides his MSN addy] if you'd care to chat
Hmmm...I'll have to think about that one

Ofcourse, those were samples of no-brainers (literally). I did have loads of good convo and shameless flirting with real potential Mandy's. Stay tuned.

[Un]discovered Dating Techniques #2: The Cock Block

"Cock Block" n. a friend (usually male) that will not allow one, to have any type of relationship with someone else (usually female). Also can be a motor vehicle maneuver, usually done by insecure twenty- something males (who think that everybody wants to race them) and other ignorant people, designed to prevent someone from changing lanes in traffic. [According to the Urban Dictionary...]

My coworker, Bryan stops by my cubicle each week, almost always with the same purpose. Each time, our non-work-related conversation goes a little something like this...

Bryan: "Hi Erika. How's your love life going these days?"
Me: "Er...um, it's non-existant. Thanks for asking Bryan."
Bryan: "I don't know what's wrong with these young guys and why they're not asking you out. I just don't get it. I mean, look at you!"
Me: "Yeah, I don't get it either Bryan." [But thanks for adding to my insecurities]
Bryan: " I know a guy who's single. His name is Pete"...

Bryan then goes on to list all of the great qualities that Pete (or sometimes it's Chris) has: good-looking, smart, funny, works out, knows the words to every Loverboy song, can cook, donated part of kidney to stranger for life-saving surgery etc. The trouble is, Bryan has already told me all of this over a month ago at which time I immediately [ok, with the prompting of my coworker Mary aka Undercover Mother] wrote down my number and email address on the back of my business card. To date, Bryan has not delivered this information to Peter and/or Chris. Bryan has no follow through. His intentions are good but in actuality he's a cock blocker.

My virgin ears [I use that term loosely] had never heard this term before. But thanks again to Undercover Mother for keeping this singleton in the know.

And not all the cock blocking is reserved just for Bryan. There's cock blocking going on all over the bloody place. My friend Nan had this guy, Frank, she was going to introduce me to but was hesitant because she thought I "could do better." Couldn't I be the judge of that? I advised Nan this week I was still waiting to be introduced to Frank. She told me he had met someone and they've been serious for a couple of months. Hello! Cock blocker!

My cublice neighbour Marco was chatting up a hunky police officer outside our office building one morning. When Marco returned to his desk, I asked him about the 411 on Constable Cutie. He promised to look for a wedding ring when he went down to the station for questioning later that day. Turns out Marco's soon-to-be-ex-wife was trying to have him socked with some trumped-up bocus charge. When I asked Marco about Constable Cutie the next day, Marco admitted he hadn't even looked for a ring when he went down to the station to make a statement. What the hell kind of a cock blocker is he? I mean, I know he was facing possible criminal charges but come on...help a single coworker out!

Even my grandmother is in on the cock blocking action. There was a potential guy for me at her church. But does she set up an arranged married with his family? No. And now he's engaged to someone else. Someone whose grandmother is not a cock blocker.

When I managed to meet a half-decent guy [pre-list days ofcourse] my male coworkers thought it was time to cockity-cock-cock-block. My last boyfriend, Gordon, was tortured endlessly. They kindly referred to him as Gargoyle [Gargo for short]. One coworker, Rowan, even suggested I break up with Gargo because he wasn't cool as he was. And why was that exactly? Because he didn't own a convertable. [Ofcourse! How silly of me.]

I think I have entered a parallel cock blocking universe. Population = 1.

**Disclaimer: The term Cock Blocker, as referenced above is a term of affection and is not in any way meant to offend. I still adore my coworkers, my friend Nan and my grandmother .**