The Lost Plum…

I wrote a post I haven’t posted yet. The topic of this post was to debunk the age old claim that dating or being in a relationship makes you fat or makes you gain weight.

I have always lost weight while in relationships, not gained and after thinking on it and even asking others I’m still perplexed at where this idea comes from. Does being in a relationship really make you fat? And if so where is this happening? I’m looking at you Dr.Oz, tell me!

I haven’t posted the post, because well, I might disagree with my statements now, I may have to jump on the bandwagon and say that being in a relationship just MIGHT (might) make you gain weight.

It all depends on who you are dating…

In my unposted post I outline that yes you go out and dine more with a partner but I think you are more conscious of it. You share things like apps and deserts, and you wait to eat with no snacking as to not ruin your appetite, and after your big meal is done your ready for other after dinner activities. Your meals are more planned out. More timely. You and your partner plan to do lunch there for you don’t spend all afternoon eating a sleeve of puddings. You mix it up more, not ordering Chinese then eating the leftovers for 2days and then reordering Chinese. I don’t think a relationship is cool with splitting a muffin and a bag of left over movie popcorn for dinner, but when it’s 10pm and I’ve realized I haven’t eaten yet the muffin/popcorn combo works fine for me.

I’ve dated alot of guys who made comments about my weight, or my appearance. And yet at those times I was like half the size I am now. Maybe I’ve been more aware of it in the past cause the guys I was with made me so. Maybe them telling me I was fat or that I should watch my weight made me more conscious then the average. Made me in a sense not be the norm and actually lose weight while in a relationship.

Also I’ve dated a bunch of vegetarians, strike that I’ve dated way too many vegetarians! Now don’t get me wrong I love a big dinner salad, and get them all the time. And I don’t judge them for not eating chicken (for not eating bacon I do!)

Ok so maybe it’s not the vegetarian thing at all. Maybe it’s that I’ve dated alot of guys who overly care about their appearances and like their women to fit into a pretty little not over a size 8 box. In fact, I think that might be it. In fact, I’m sure of it.

Maybe all along not only have I been dating the wrong guys but my waistline has been too.

So here’s the thing: I love food! I eat. I try new things like I’m just experiencing them, cause alot of times I am. I grew up in a house where I don’t think salt even was/is present. Sugar kids cereal was the luxury, and there are no real restaurants around. When I went to undergrad University I slowly weaned myself back onto gluten and boy is gluten good! And tried things for the first time like chocolate milk!  I started traveling and experienced the pleasure of that. Cause the true test of being an adult is making the choice to only eat gelato for two days when in Rome.

And then I moved to NYC and the foodie in me was unleashed like a razor to Britney’s head. Add on top of that that American portions are bigger then my face, and I’ve falling in love with spice, butter, and meat. And although NY street meat has got nothing on Toronto’s it’s a hell of a city to fall in love with food in. Thus I started to gain alittle, or maybe a lot….

Maybe I just need to fall for the right guy too! Maybe my stomach has been on a hunt. A hunt not only for the perfect hotdog but well for the perfect “hotdog”. A hunt for a guy who introduces me to things called ”Combos” or “Popeye’s Chicken” and even “Pop Tarts”. A guy who makes me nachos for dinner and indulges in the idea that we each get a desert and share them.

A guy who likes me for me and even though I might be at the biggest I’ve ever been in my life by like 20 pounds, holds my hand while we walk for street side tacos at 2am, and tells me I’m beautiful as I have taco grease running down my chin….maybe falling in love with the boy who loves ‘All’ of me is something I can really sink my teeth into.

SIDEBAR: I hate hate hated the book Eat, Pray, Love. Gag me with a spoon!

Nando, Nate and I did a video topic question on “most embarrassing sex moments” I was rewatching the video the other day, and it got me thinking about how ‘embarrassing’ is usually the case for one person. You know like you fall on your face in front of a crowd embarrassing, but sex is only a party for two. Well typically there isn’t really a crowd, so what seems to be embarrassing is more like an incident with one other person.

We all have those embarrassing sex stories, those elbow to the eye, granny panties, fell off the bed, and the hit my head on a head board stories. And if you don’t have one frankly I don’t think you’re doing sex right!

But these are usually personal. One person fell off the bed, one person burped in the others mouth, and so on.

So rather then telling about what I think is an embarrassing sex story that has happened to me, and believe me there are lots! I thought I’d try to think of what awkward, funny, disastrous sex moment I’ve had that would be the other persons most embarrassing….

Some time ago I was having sex (that’s sorta has to be in this story doesn’t it) and it was good, wonderful and every word you can think of to replace “great”.

Basically, we can say I was very much enjoying myself.

He was ontop and therefore I was below him (the classic missionary) and all of a sudden I feel this strange pressure building up in my lady parts. It was odd, different, not like any feeling I’ve felt like before.

I gave him a funny face as he continued with his ‘business’.

“ummm” my face kind of twisted.

“You ok you want me to stop” he stops but still ontop of me.

“Ummm…..No, but….something feels strange.”

“Bad strange or good strange?” he seemed concerned but obviously his blood wasn’t going to his brain at this moment.

“Kind of bad strange, it kind of hurts”

He backs up, and this pressure that had been building stops, kind of rushes out of me in a strange ‘I don’t know this feeling’ kind of way. And then I notice everything is all wet….

I sorta backup, sit up, and look down.

“Did you just?….Baby! I think you peed in me?!” I say as this look of shock and embarrassment comes over him, and he hides his head and rolls over.

And I of course can do nothing but start to laugh….

SIDEBAR: Apparently guys aren’t supposed to be able to urinate while having an erection, however, my Google searches have proved otherwise….and so has this personal experience.

FACT: I guess this means I’ve dabbled in water sports, although I didn’t ask too.

In case you don’t follow me on Twitter (which I don’t know why you wouldn’t!) I am here to inform you all that I am on holiday. Well sorta a working and getting things done holiday, but a holiday nonetheless.

Right now, I’m home-home, with my parents for a week or so. Just relaxin’, chilln’, and doing lots of swimming with my puppies!

It’s peaceful here. It’s quiet, well except for those frogs outside my window that actually kind of make me miss honking cars and sirens at night. It’s the Northern woods of Canada, and it’s my home.

There aren’t many luxuries in my hometown. Nowhere really to shop, or go hang out, or anything really fun to do. No real cultural anything.

SIDEBAR: Today is Canada Day so that’s pretty cultural.

I like it here because it’s familiar, nothing changes and I know everything.  It’s special to my heart.

Much like a good relationship, a good home can’t be beat.  As I went to get ready for bed last night after a late night swim I got thinking about all the things I kind of dislike or “live” with when at home.  My own bathroom I’ve always loved. It’s big and has lots of light, and yet the water pressure just doesn’t cut it in the shower.  I have a huge sink area with long big sink top with a makeup area with a chair and everything, it’s almost perfect, but then I forget that the sink is very shallow and if you turn the tap on to far it splashes water all over everything! My bed is big and huge and tall and comfy good, but it’s kind of lonely being in a big nice bed like that all alone, and then they’re those frogs outside my window.

All that is good about home has little faults that we tend to forget or over look till they are right in front of us.  A relationship is like a good home. It’s warm, inviting, it shelters you and can be used for entraining. It holds memories and creates new ones. It’s a rock that we count on….only good thing is that the person you’re in a relationship with can talk to you, and a home doesn’t really do that, unless you count “house sounds”.

And then there are those little extras, or more like the hidden “gems” of a relationship.  Just like my shallow sink that splashes unless you turn it just right, everyone has those little things about them they bring to a relationship.  These added gems get overlooked, pushed to the side and sometimes ignored because the whole package or “the home” is just so wonderful. Maybe it’s the way someone laughs, or chews their food, or holds your hand in a funny way.  Maybe it’s the sounds they make in their sleep, or sounds they don’t make during “sleep”.

Just as we get used to a new house which eventually becomes our home, do the little things start to disappear as the larger picture unfolds in a relationship and if so then why do people always say it’s all about the little things in a relationship?

Every year around this time I get asked the same thing. What are you doing for your birthday? I always answer with an “I don’t know,” and an “ I don’t really like birthdays”

People always inform me that they too don’t like birthdays and that infact no one likes getting older. In fact everyone always assumes it’s a “getting older” thing I dislike about birthdays. That that’s why I’m not out wanting to party it up with huge big exciting plans, as I guess people expect me to do.

And then when people push as to why I hate birthdays I get flustered and close up. Cause fact of the matter is I don’t dislike getting older. Although being one year closer to 30 (the last year before 30 I might add) is a little nerve racking, and I do feel like I’m getting old. It however, is not the issue.

I just don’t have good luck or good experiences when it comes to my birthday. And I guess I just project that out there, that I assume since I’ve had so many terrible birthdays that this will just continue to happen.

Now I’m talking birthdays in resent (in my 20s) memory.  My birthdays when I was younger were pretty awesome. I had rocking birthday parties as a child that still has people talking.  However as I approached and grew into my 20s the just seemed to go down hill.

I lost my virginity on my birthday and it wasn’t anything exciting.

I was in a bad car accident on my birthday.

I’ve had 3 very important people in my life die on my birthday, and 2 right near my birthday.

A Psychic told me on I wouldn’t live much past 25 the day before I turned 25.

I’ve walked in on my boyfriend at the time with another girl the day of my birthday.

I had everyone and I mean EVERYONE forget my 21^st birthday. (my parents, my boyfriend at the time, and my friends)

and so on….

Last year for the first time in a long time since moving to this city I surface from my room.  In a “hey I’ll be out at this bar if you happen to want to show” fashion I let friends know I’d be out. I ended up getting drunker then I can ever recall and maybe dying my friends sink pick from all the cupcake frosting I puked up in his sink. It was bad news. Cause although I had a nice time with some friends, I spent the entire time alittle uncomfortable. To many people and unknown intensions.  Did people really want to celebrate my birthday or just celebrate?

The thing is I think we all have ideals of perfect outings, gatherings, dates, and or experiences.  We want to feel loved, appreciated, and special on a certain occasion: this being my birthday.   You hear people say all the time that events are better when you’re in a relationship, that unless you have one special person to celebrate with then it’s just not as good.

I think I can admit that yes for once I’d love to have a day, this being my birthday where I am in a relationship with someone who truly cares about me and wants to make me feel special.  Wouldn’t that be nice?

I’ve never really had a boyfriend or guy I was involved with recognize or to be honest remember my birthday (unless you go back to the virginity story). I’ve never had a guy say this day is about you and let’s actually make it about you.

I was thinking about this last night. Thinking about how maybe one day someone will embrace me on the day my parents first embraced me, and maybe I’ll start to like getting older.

Here’s to Friday being just another year like all the rest…..

Here in one of the greatest cities in the world the majority of us commute/travel/get around via public transit.

The subway system being one of the most popular, it’s usually always there for you (usually). It gets you places, it provides entertainment and it opens doors.

You could say it is the most constant relationship I’ve had since moving to NYC.

SIDEBAR: We did have that 3-month break but that’s another story.

Yup, I think the subway is my true NYC boyfriend. He’s usually on time, he smells sometimes, he’s cool, and always has someplace to take me…. oh and he’s a fun big long thing to ride on!

However, if it’s my one true relationship I must project my fears and hang-ups that I usually foresee in men on my beloved subway boyfriend.

And I do. I’m scared of the subway most of the time. I stand back away from the edge (see above sidebar), I get disgusted by others my boyfriend lets ride on him, I make comments about his smell and appearance, I worry when he’s not on time, and I get pissed when he’s not there for me when I need him, yet he seems to be there for others.

But like all relationships I’m prepared for what might go wrong.  See the subway has its emergency plan. It is in ever car, on every line: The, “what to do in case of an emergency” procedure plan.

The emergency brake is usually right above this list of procedures. The list of what to do in case of fire, evacuation, illness, police emergency and so on.  What does one do? Not what you think. In fact you don’t pull the emergency brake.

In all emergency matters you never pull the brake.

The brake is like a false security. Much like the false security you have in a relationship. If something goes wrong you can’t just push a button or pull a cord and all will be ok. You can’t always walk away unscathed.

In case of an emergency you need to turn to the procedures to handle the situation in the right manner. You need to calm down and walk through step by step.

In relationships we aren’t always prepared for the “emergencies” we face but we can’t always fall back on a false security that things will be ok.  Something or in this case someone isn’t always there to catch you, isn’t there to save you, and in most cases just isn’t there fore you.

Although, subway emergencies don’t happen often, relationship emergencies happen all the time. Whether it is a real fire, or just an irate passenger we need to learn to just breath and take the right steps in making things better.

Now if only there was a manual for that…..