Wake-up call

This morning, at around 7:45, I was woken up by my phone.  Nobody calls me that early, so I was really startled.  Also, it was from a blocked number.  It turns out, it was a woman on the verge of tears, who wanted to know how I knew Doug.  Thus began a very dramatic morning.

I confessed that I hadn't met Doug yet, but we met on a dating site, and were supposed to go for coffee this evening.  She told me that she has been with Doug for two years, and they just got a puppy together.  Not only that but three months ago she uprooted her life in Alberta to move to Newfoundland to be with him.  Needless to say, she was completely distraught.

We talked on the phone for a while, and I answered all of her questions as best I could.  She asked me if I thought Doug was just looking for sex, and I had to tell her that I didn't think so -- my profile is extremely wholesome, since I don't want to be solicited for casual hook-ups.  In a way, I wish I could have told her he was just looking for sex.  Maybe it would have been easier to understand, and feel like less of a betrayal.

She was determined to confront Doug with evidence and catch him in his lies, so I did everything she asked of me.  Women need to stick together in these situations.  I sent her a screen shot of Doug's dating profile and the emails we exchanged, which included dates and times that he said he was available to meet.

She called me again after she talked to Doug, and said that Doug was lying about being on the site, and claimed someone 'hacked' his account.  She knew this was ridiculous, but wanted to warn me that Doug might try and get in touch.  (He never did, he just deleted his account off of Plenty of Fish.)

He fouled my nest

I don't have any recent dating stories to tell, but I do have one from Friday involving a barely-dressed man in my bed.  (Don't get excited, it's not one of those stories.)

So there I was, at home alone on a Friday night at 1am, tootling around the internet trying to find an apartment.  I was dressed in a sundress that I think was on its third wear, and my hair was especially dirty -- not expecting company, obviously.  Then out of nowhere, a knock at my door.  I just assumed someone got lost on their way to the party down the hall, so I didn't even look through the peep hole.  But it wasn't a party-goer.

It was Dan.  We used to be neighbours until just over a year ago, but now we're mostly just Facebook friends.  He's also the guy I'd call if my computer started acting weird.  (Everyone needs one of those friends.)  Anyway, Dan is a bit of a weekend partier, and the fact that I now live in the club district near all of the bars hasn't escaped him.  Sometimes he crashes on my couch -- no big deal.

Anyway, I opened the door and I swear the smell of booze hit me before I fully recognized him.  He stumbled in with a bottle of Brio, barely managing to kick his shoes off and sit down.  He looked like he was heading to the couch, so I figured he'd be passed out in no time.  I left him alone to begin my bedtime routine of showering and teeth brushing, and when finished, I came out of the bathroom to a seemingly empty apartment.  Did Dan leave?

Nope.  Found him.  He had stripped down to an undershirt, boxers, and tube socks and was sprawled out face first on my bed.  Now, ordinarily a woman who finds a good-looking, half undressed guy in her bed might be a bit excited.  But my first thought was "Damn it get off my duvet before your stink gets on it!".  Priorities, am I right?  I yanked him up into a sitting position, the first step to getting him out of my room, when I heard him mumble something that sounded a lot like "garbage can".  JESUS ROLLERSKATING CHRIST!  I barely had time to shove my waste paper basket under his chin before he started vomiting.  IN.  MY.  BED.

At that point all I could do was hold the garbage pail until he was done.  I did eventually get him on the couch, after putting down a drop-cloth, and got him some water.  He passed out again within seconds of his head hitting the pillow.  Poor Dan.  At least he had the courtesy the next morning to take his puke bucket with him.  Oh, and he left me $5 to buy a new one!  Enough to buy a new basket AND some Febreze, methinks.

Blog neglect

Hello readers!  It's been a really long time since I last posted, and I'm starting to feel really guilty about it.  The last you heard from me, I was about to go into surgery.  Well, it went swimmingly.  I am definitely enjoying my lack of gallbladder.

You know what I'm not enjoying lately?  Online dating.  In the past few weeks I've been exchanging emails with a bunch of people, and a pattern is emerging.  After about the fourth exchange, they lose all interest.  It's  very frustrating.  Also, it leaves me with very little to write about!  Oh, and remember Finn?  Well he hasn't remembered me.  His life is all baseball, all the time.  I'm not terribly disappointed we never got that second date.

At the moment, the only guy on my radar is Doug.  He seems very nice, but also extremely busy with traveling back and forth between Toronto and the east coast for work.  As a result, our emails or texts are infrequent.  I have little to no hope that we'll ever meet.

So that's about all that's going on in my dating world.  I have another speed dating event in a few weeks, which I'm going to with Stacey.  I think she's more excited than I am.  It's a 'mix and mingle' format, which is a bit more nerve-wracking than the standard table rotation speed dating.  I'm nervous!  (Also, not sure I have a cocktail dress that I like.  This is important.)

I enjoyed my break from the blog, but I'm back!  Maybe my next post will be all about the comedy of errors that was my surgery.  Stay tuned!