The Lost Plum…

A while back I wrote about qualities that my next ex-boyfriend should process. All these were good things; I just have to find him right?!  Well like everyone I’m sure my next ex-boyfriend has a list of qualities his next ex-girlfriend should have. So I thought I’d make it alittle easier for him.

13 reasons why I’ll make a great next ex-girlfriend.

1. I love to bake. And I need someone to eat my creations. Baking relives stress for me. I think because it’s so methodical and precise, and my life tends not to be that way. So if a boy loves pie and pudding, I’m his girl.

2. I’m a terrible liar. I turn red, I fumble my words, and if asked in a serious tone I’ve been known to tell secrets. I’ve never spilled anything people have told me in confidence, but if it’s about someone I maybe when confronted tell. I’ve been to many a surprise party I didn’t even know where parties because I can’t lie if confronted.

3. I shower daily, if not more, and brush and floss more then I should. How is that not a desirable quality?

4. I’m exotic. And if you don’t think that is true you’ve never experienced a Canadian Shield winter or summer mosquitoes that can suck a baby dry.

5. I am close to my family (ok sometimes alittle too close, but not in a creepy Morgan Freeman way) and they mean the world to me.

6. I’ve had the emotional abusive, verbally abusive, and sometimes physically abusive boyfriends. If you’re nice to me I’m pretty much head over heels already.

7. I love sex. Nough said.

8. I have so many amazing groups of friends. You can’t not love at least 10 of them, and no matter what happens with us, they are all great at being diplomatic and guarantee they’ll still love you after I don’t.

9. I love watching sports, on TV and from the stands. And if throw wings and beer into that mix I’m even more fun.

10. I have a nice rack. There I said it.

11. I believe in equality for all. And if you don’t you can just move on RIGHT now. (me and my blog don’t want you here)

12. I’m always up for an adventure. Name it, I’m probably game!

13. I make lists. They will make your life more productive, and if nothing less interesting and they create things to discuss.

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Man: What colour is your nail polish?

Plum: umm..I think it’s called “tart deco.”

Man: Do your toes match?

Plum: No, I think they are green something.

Man: I like this colour (points to hands) I’ve been looking for a new red to paint my toes.

Plum: Well it’s not really a red per say.

Man: I’m “man”, you interested in going for a pedicure with me sometime, and get to know each other?

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I discussed standards the other day. How we need to learn to let things go after awhile. But thing is there are still things that we will always be attracted to about the opposite sex. I need nice teeth, some people need nice eyes, and some need boobs. This is the fact of life here, and that’s not to say some guy who loves boobs might fall in love with a flat as a little boy woman, it happens.

FACT: Me falling for a guy with bad teeth will never happen just so you know!

But what about a personality, or even more so the material things that reflect a persons personality.

We live in a materialistic world, and everyone loves things, no matter what they tell you. Things are good, and things somewhat make who you are. Like I hate getting rid of books that is telling to who I am.

So I’ve been thinking about what materials reflect well on a suitor I am have. Now reflecting materials are best seen in ones home. My kitchen aid mixer and my matching towels reflect more about my personality then my designer shoes and bags, or what glasses I happen to be wearing. How someone fills their living space, in a true reflection of how they fill their brain.

As I’ve slowly been unpacking my apartment and figuring out where to put everything I looked at my pile of art work and it made me think of guys. Guys with art.

Here is one thing I love, and something that will automatically make me intrigued and instantly more attracted to a guy. Art!

Now he doesn’t have to spend a fortune on art, or anything like that. Even one piece will make me look differently and pay more attention. This can even be a photograph. Guys with art make me swoon and get me interested in them. Their art choices tells alot about their personality, their likes, their dislikes, and their inner beauty.

I’ve become extremely attracted to guys with art collections, and photography walls. I can spend hours in museums so why not spend hours at a guy’s place admiring art and having sex.

An apartment without art is not a home, and if you don’t have a “home” why would I want to play house with you.

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Yup. Brace yourself, here it comes: the virginity post!

Now unless my father asks this post is about me losing my virginity. If he asks this is a guest post by some dirty sinner! (Shame on you dirty sinner!)

People who know me are always surprised when the topic of “first times” comes up, and age is thrown on the table.

I was a late bloomer, not as late as other people I know, but to the masses I probably am.

I lost my virginity to “firstguy” when I was 19. There was nothing particular exciting, special or interesting about that evening, except I was 19. It was my birthday.

FACT: This is NOT the reason I dislike celebrating my birthday.

We were in my parent’s basement watching a movie. Braveheart, I only remember the movie cause ‘firstguy’ had a love for watching the same movies over and over again. Braveheart was one of these. I’ve seen that movie far more times then I would like to admit. (Far too many in like a two-year period)

Somewhere between Mel Gibson speaking with a Scottish accent and someone dying we had sex.

That is all I remember. No real detail about what was said or what was done, we just did more than the usual. And at that time more then the usual meant sex.

You always hear about sex hurting, and being painful and all that jazz. I don’t clearly remember that but if my memory serves me correctly I’d like to say that my first time as a girl didn’t hurt, or at least it didn’t cause me pain. But it was uncomfortable.

Kind of like when you tie your shoe too tight. You know that it doesn’t feel right, it’s alittle uncomfortable and it hurts to walk the first few steps, you know you just sense that something you did might not be right. But after that it loosens up and it’s like nothing wrong ever happened.

SIDEBAR: That analogy sounded cleaner in my head.

So there it was I was 19. One year older. I could vote, drink, and I wasn’t a virgin.

‘Firstguy’ was terrible at alot of things. Gifts were one of them, unless you count flowers. That boy bought me more flowers than Kiefer Sutherland buys rounds of shoots.

It was my birthday (and my first time) and all my boyfriend got me was cake, a Mr.Bean teddy-bear, Mel Gibson and a broken hymen.

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Lost Old Man: Excuse me miss. Which way to Prince?

Me: Umm…down. You’re aways away from Prince Street.

Lost Old Man:  So you can’t see a Prince.

Me: I’m sorry?

Lost Old Man: Prince.

Me: Yeah, you got to go downtown. You can hop on the train right here and get there.

Lost Old Man:  (laughs) I thought maybe I could be your Prince.

Me: I’m sorry. (nervous and confused laughter)

Lost Old Man: Or you can call me Grandpa, that works too. (add creepy smile)

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