Dating In Toronto

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Hooray for Friday!

I am happy to report I am feeling much better than I did yesterday. Also, I am still trying to decide what poems to pick for my book. The End is on the list. That is my favourite poem lately, probably because all my relationships are ending, but I don’t feel like I do in the poem; some relationships must die, and this is good, yeah.

Question of the day: If I make a spectacle of myself, do I become a wearable?

Dating In Toronto

What a wonderful nightmare.

Today a guy told me I lost my chance to have sex with him. I think, OK. There are lots of other dicks out there. How am I supposed to feel? Should that knowledge make me sad and want to drop my pants for you? Ugh. I did/do enjoy talking to him, but the thought of sex with him didn’t excite me. Bite the dust, for goodness sake (not in frustration but for everything good, righteous and honest.)

Often, I wonder if these men are actually available. Another one told me he’s at a sports tournament for the weekend, so he can’t talk to me – because he’s playing non-stop for an entire 48 hours, I guess. One guy said he’d love to explore neighbourhoods with me, but when I spoke to him, he sounded like an old smoker, probably has COPD, and he admitted that he sometimes needs oxygen and uses a scooter! So much for fantastic sex!

Fair warning No. 872: To the next pillow selfie muthafucka who flashes before my eyes, I have a very particularly special set of skills. Skills that make me a nightmare for people who don’t have friends to take photos of them. I will look for you. I will find you, and I will stifle you dead with the same pillow you so lovingly placed under your head!

And finally, my last Dating in Toronto experience for the week, someone sent me an elaborate canned message – I went to view his profile, and all his pics are photos of photos. He basically put a photograph of himself on a desk, took a pic and posted it – and as usual, like so many other men, he couldn’t take the time to crop the photos. I don’t even understand how that is better than just taking an actual photo. I don’t get it.

Fuck my dating life!

Anywow! Tomorrow is a new day. I’m feeling well enough, to check out Trinity-Bellwoods neighbourhood at some point this weekend. Maybe.