Mr. Smooth - Version 1.0

Gather 'round friends, I am going to share with y'all my infinite wisdom about relationships.

(FYI for everyone that reads my blog: Yesterday I had an epiphany and decided that I am truly a relationship expert. -- Sure, I don't currently have a relationship. And it's true that I have probably suffered some of the most humiliating break-ups of all time. And ok, I probably should be married by now...But believe me, I am an expert.)

So here we go, let's talk about the infamous 'Mr. Smooth' today.

For those of you who have been fortunate enough to dodge a bullet, and somehow miss dating 'Mr. Smooth,' you are perhaps the luckiest bunch of people around; he's a sly one and he's been around the block a few times...

For those of us who have dated him -- or different variations of him -- have no fear, my friends, you are not alone. (Heck, we've probably dated him at the same time, because that's just the kinda guy that he is.)

I first met my 'Mr. Smooth' in 2002. He was a chiseled hunk, who was all sorts of mysterious. (Ahh, the good 'ol days when I was just a young lass who still believed in fairy tales...)

My 'Mr. Smooth' was a damaged fella, just having his heart broken by an evil ex-girlfriend who, by his accounts, was a beautiful monster that broke his heart and then haunted him. -- He was vulnerable and sensitive. He spoke honestly about how he wasn't ready to settle back into a relationship just yet, but how I was his best friend for listening to all of his anguish and heartache.

In a weird sort of reverse fairy tale, I was the one who was rescuing him.

Even though my 'Mr. Smooth' wasn't ready for a relationship, he was ready (and extremely able) to sleep with me. In fact, he told me that he "liked me" but he just couldn't be my boyfriend because he was simply in too much pain from the last relationship.

And, just like that; after he let me into his soul, I foolishly let him into my pants. (Ahh, right where he wants me: He can sleep with me, guilt-free, and still keep his options open. Genius.)

Friends, this is red flag number one about 'Mr. Smooth.' -- He plays an excellent victim. If you think that your new crush might be a 'Mr. Smooth,' consider all of the things he's already told you about himself; do you know everything about his 'evil' ex-girlfriend? Did he tell you of all the wonderful and romantic things that he did for her, only to have her rip out his heart and stomp it into a billion pieces right in front of him? Did he shed a tear, as he told you about the void in his soul? If any of this sounds familiar it's because dude is playing a game!

Any guy who actually likes you would never tell you that stuff! -- Not the first couple of times you hang out anyway. For some strange reason, most of us buy into this bullshit because we are too blinded by our crush on the guy, as well we are controlled by the competitive little voice in the back our mind that tells us that we could treat him better than that.

'Mr. Smooth' is banking on that.

Let us continue.

As time went on, 'Mr. Smooth' dropped the L-bomb on me in only a matter of a few months. I was in a state of euphoria; this chiseled hunk of a man loved me, who cares if we didn't have an official boyfriend-girlfriend title. I had his heart! He loved me!

Red flag number two: Ladies, if a guy tells you that he loves you, but still has issues with actually calling himself your boyfriend, there is something terribly wrong here. Seriously. First of all, I'd venture to say that the L-word is a heck of a lot scarier than the B-word. Furthermore, of course he's going to tell you that he loves you if you've stuck around for a few months, become his regular booty-call and not ask (or at least have the girlfriend-cred to ask) if he is sleeping with other chicks as well. You, my friends, have just let this guy have his cake and eat it too. True story.

And now back to my 'Mr. Smooth'...

Since my 'Mr. Smooth' loved me, I wanted to show him that I would make a fantastic girlfriend. I knew it was only a matter of time before he was ready to commit to me, and I didn't want to miss it by living my life. (Sounds crazy, but it's true, lots of us do it.) I gave up on going out with my friends, in case he called and wanted to hang out. I met him at work for his lunch break. Heck, I even brought him lunches when he'd call me and tell me that he didn't like the one he had. -- I was so wrapped up in trying to prove myself, that I totally didn't notice that the sweet and vulnerable man that I loved, and more importantly, loved me, had become this selfish d-bag that was using me. (Ok, he was using me long before this. However, at this point he had taking using me to a whole new level...)

Red flag number three: When start ditching your friends because 'Mr. Smooth' might call you, or might want to hang out, you are in a whole heap of something crazy. Ladies, it's awesome to want to hang out with your dude all the time, but guys like 'Mr. Smooth' want all of your time, even if they're not around to share it with you. -- Though it's easy to blame this type of behaviour entirely on 'Mr. Smooth,' it's a shared responsibility because you're letting him use you.

...And now back to the saga of Shelley and 'Mr. Smooth circa 2002.'

By the time 'Mr. Smooth' had finally allowed himself to be dubbed my boyfriend, we were already in a messy, volatile relationship that involved lots of fighting, yelling, dramatics and tears. It was like the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde of relationships; one minute we were in love and the next minute we hated each other. The only thing that seemed constant was the fact that we would break-up, only to get back together. (Sometimes we'd get back together during the same fight that broke us up in the first place!) -- Ladies, I had now become 'the monster' that he first told me about way back when, only this time I saw a side I didn't know about.

Red flag number four: Look, this whole thing is a red flag. Get out before he crushes your soul and eats it for breakfast with the girl, or girls, that he is cheating on you with. I don't even have any advice for you if you get to this point, and I'm an expert!

So, here we have it. I know that this post is vague, and based far too much on my own personal experience. However, this guy was probably the smoothest "victim" I have ever met in my entire life. -- He got me with his chiseled good looks, and tortured soul...I was young.

Either way, this might be an isolated case (as there are still other variations of the smooth one...) But ladies, if this post is all too familiar to you, I suggest you abort the mission to be this guy's number one, cause it's futile.

Next time I will talk about a different version of 'Mr. Smooth.' -- This one's a lot more fun, I promise...

Picture: www.vegaschatter.com

My grade seven humiliation (Re-post circa the mid-2000s)

Old-school Shelley Circa early 1990s. Hotness.

Okay, for those of you have read my blogs since I started them all those years ago, this story is an old one (but a GOOD one none the less...)

Before I tell it, I feel as though I must offer up some sort of introduction to my moment of junior high humiliation. -- You see, when I was in grade seven, I was one of those kids that wanted so badly to fit in. The only problem was that I wasn't cool.

I was quite the opposite.

I was a chubby kid, who wore bright red lipstick (with no other makeup to contrast the offensive color of my crimson lips) I had frizzy brown hair and wore hand-me-downs from my older sister, or from anyone that would send over a bag of clothes that their kids had grown out of, or just didn't like anymore. (Shit, I'm still like that now, the only difference is that now I embrace my nerdyness. Hell, I'd go as far as to say that I kinda brag about it now...Bwahaha...)

Yup.

Back then I was likely the farthest thing from 'cool' that there was...

Anyways, I remember when I was going into grade seven, my mom bought me my first pair of button-fly Levi’s. Right off the bat they were my favorite jeans because they were brand new and because they actually had some sort of recognizable brand name attached to them. I loved those jeans, I always felt a strong sense of confidence when I wore them. I think it was because they were all mine, they had never belonged to anyone else before; they were purchased especially to fit my chubby little body!!

Throughout the school year I paired my beautiful button-fly Levi’s with the generic shirts that lined my closet. It wasn't until one day, when Heather (my older sister) brought home this red and white striped 'Guess Jeans' t-shirt that her friend no longer wanted, that I had an especially spectacular outfit to wear to school. I remember being puzzled as to why Heather's friend no longer wanted this beautiful t-shirt with such a prestigious name brand on it.

I seriously couldn't fathom how this girl could so easily throw away such a treasured piece of clothing.

The next morning (after Heather brought that t-shirt home) I remember waking up, and actually looking forward to going to school. -- Call me crazy, but I actually thought that my power-outfit would make me instantly popular with all of the cool kids at school. -- I envisioned walking through the halls in my red and white guess jeans t-shirt and my button-fly Levi’s, being noticed by the cool kids, as a cool kid.

I remember getting dressed that morning, and actually feeling different in that outfit. I carefully applied my poppy red lipstick and added a little bit of dippity-doo gel to my afro-curly hair. I fiddled with the t-shirt a little bit, as I examined myself in Heather's full length mirror, wondering if I should tuck it in, or leave it out.

I tucked the t-shirt in.

I untucked it.

I tucked it in again.

I untucked it again...

After about half an hour of tucking and untucking my red and white striped 'Guess Jeans' t-shirt, I finally settled on tucking it in. I figured that by tucking it in I looked more sophisticated and grown up.

When I got to school that morning, I remember feeling as though I was the coolest and prettiest girl in the whole school; I walked through the junior high entrance with my head held high, waiting for everybody to stop what they were doing and look at me in all of my 'coolness.'

This day was going to be a good day!

I put my coat and my backpack in my locker and decided to saunter down the hallway (as though it was my catwalk) to show the whole junior high world, the new and improved me.

"Damn, I look good," I thought to myself as I walked past all the IB Kids.

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I see him. -- the most popular boy in grade seven. -- This boy was so cute, and so cool that even the grade eight kids liked him...

"Get ready to shine," I thought, as he walked towards me with his equally cool friend.

I figured that this was my moment. I was sure that he was going to walk past me, and we would exchange a smile or a simple 'hello', which would pave the way for my impending popularity, but instead he started to walk towards me...

"Oh Goodness," I thought, with every step he took. "He's coming this way..."

I took a deep breath and told myself not to get too excited when the cutest boy in grade seven talked to me.

"Here he comes..."

And then it happened...

He -- The cutest, most popular boy in grade seven -- walked right up to me, only a couple of inches from my face and he said:

"You're ugly."

Huh?!

His friend laughed hysterically, as he repeated the insult once or twice more.

I just looked at him; dumbfounded.

With my ego crushed and my face burning with humiliation, I quickly looked down at the floor and slowly started walking away. I tried to save face, and pretended that I didn't notice his cruel remark.

As I walked down the long stretch of hall, I could hear them laughing.

"hahaha -- You’re so ugly!!" They repeated.

I turned the corner at the end of the hallway, and I could still hear them laughing at me.

I was utterly traumatized. This was the worst day of my 13-year-old life!

My 'power-outfit' had failed me miserably and I was now trapped in the grade eight hallway, with only minutes before homeroom was to begin. I opted to take the long way around (through the front, outside, and back to the side door in which I had first come in...) because I didn't want to pass the cutest, most popular (also now also the meanest) boy in seventh grade.

Needless to say, I was late for homeroom, had to walk into class in front of all my seated classmates and received a stern warning for my tardy behaviour.

That was probably one of my most humiliating, traumatic, 'Never Been Kissed' high school moments!! -- Thank goodness I have a thick skin (and a sick sense of humor) and laugh about it every time I think about it now.

Oh, and for the record, I NEVER wore that shirt again!!

Rock bottom in a see-through dress and granny panties.

I started this summer with big intentions to lose weight.

"I'm going to go back to school and be super hot," I told myself. "I'm going to run and join Weight Watchers. -- I'm totally going to be the hottest chick at Red River, probably even in Winnipeg..."

Flash forward to today, with only a month left of summer holidays, I am fully cognizant that I'm still the same, if not slightly larger than before. Ugh. My clothes seem to be getting tighter, and my overall big idea to lose weight has gone down the hatch (along with a few million calories over the course of this summer I might add.)

Now why I am blogging about this rather uncomfortable situation you might ask. Well, today I have hit rock bottom.

This morning as I was rummaging through my clothes, trying to find something office-appropriate, I almost had a meltdown. Everything I own seems to highlight my ever-growing muffin-top. Everything!

I ended up settling on (an unintentional) semi-see through dress (that is not flattering by any means) coupled with a pair of beat up heels. The kicker though, is that I am wearing granny panties underneath. (Perhaps it is not appropriate to write about my under garments. However, I feel that this is relevant to my story, as any single 31-year old woman who willingly wears granny panties has, in my opinion, indeed hit rock bottom. Ugh, in all fairness though, I should point out that the package said they were "boy shorts" when I bought them at the discount store. These are certainly not "boy shorts." I shake my fist at you discount store!!)

Anyways, as I write this, I am eating my frozen Weight Watchers entre and deciding that today is the day that I am going to change my lifestyle! Hooray! -- Yes, I understand that I make this commitment to change my lifestyle at least once a week, only to cave at the first sighting of anything artery-cloggingly delicious. And sure, I have moments where I console myself with phrases like: "At least I have a sparkling personality..." But really. I'm 31-years old, a thousand per cent single, and really need to be able to look spandex-wearing-good (and cougar-ready) in the next couple of years.

Muffin-top's and granny panties don't bode well for cougars.

So here we go, today I am going to get back on the "I'm going to get skinny" bandwagon.

Look out world, here I come!

Update: Obviously I did something wrong today, because I am starving my head off. So much so that I am starting to get that "Fuck it. I have a sparkly personality, now pass the *insert ANY food here*" mentality. Ugh. I drank a lot of water today, I don't get it.

Worse yet, I am at my parents house for dinner, and they're known to be "food-pushers." Having them love and accept me no matter what kinda kills the diet a little bit.

Ugh.

Calgon take me awaaaaaaaaaay...

Picture: www.theiemommy.com

What do you do when the sky is falling!?

You pull your car over and take some awesome pictures!

Thank you kind sir...

This afternoon I got howled at (so to speak) by a construction worker. (No seriously, I thought that only happened in the movies too...) He said: "Hey, how are you doing."

Ok, so it's not much and it's extremely cliché, but whatever guy, I'll take it!

Thank you kind sir for taking time out of your day to notice me.

The end.

Good morning coffee and laptop...

It's sunny outside at 6:49 am.

Hanging out in my bed with a coffee and my laptop seems like a good start to the day. (Although I don't have much time to blog as I have back to back meetings at the office to see me through the morning.)

My summer internship has proven to be very rewarding, as it seems that I have found the world of internal communications far more interesting and rewarding than I initially thought it would be. (I think one of the reason's is because I'm lucky to have a great boss who lets me be creative and explore the different aspects of this job.)

Part of my job is writing for the company newsletter. It's really neat because I have worked for this corporation for almost 10-years, and therefore I feel as though I am at an advantage because I am familiar with both the newsletter and the people that make up this corporation. -- I keep trying to put my frontline experience and personality in my work to make it more relatable to my co-workers. Writing interesting stories is extremely important to me.

Another job function that I have involves gathering information. Though I can't go into a great deal of information about this project (for fear that it is confidential) I am having a good time understanding and learning about this project...

I think one of the most important aspects of this internship is that I have discovered the difference between a job and a career. Though I do have a good job that pays well, I can't wait until I am done school so that I can start my career on a full-time basis. -- One of the main differences that I have discovered between a job and a career is that I work harder in a career setting because my work is something that is my own. In my job, I feel as though I simply follow procedures and company protocol in order to meet the expectations of my outlined position, whereas my career sees me working hard because I want to better myself and the company at the same time.

It's difficult to explain, however I suppose that the best explanation would simply be that my career allows me to work hard and create a body of work for the company that is mine. -- I like the job autonomy and the respect of my colleagues. I like wearing my own clothes and being able to have an opinion.

I guess I better get ready for my day at the office...

Until later friends.

The Bon Jovi Experience.

The stadium was packed for the Bon Jovi concert last night. Cougars, young and old, came out to worship our communal boyfriend (Jon Bon Jovi.) and sing-along to timeless Bon Jovi songs like Bad Medicine and Living on a Prayer.

The smell of pot wafted through the warm summer air, as mother nature threatened fans with dark rain clouds that hovered over the open stadium. Swarms of people congregated in common areas, it was as though the entire city had come out for the show.

The lineups for both alcohol and the washrooms were staggering; drinking and peeing were a commitment for those who were willing to invest the time -- and money at $7 a pop for a drink -- to wait for their turn.

The roar of the excited crowd welcomed the boys from Jersey on stage as the sky began to dim. With only a little bit of interaction with the audience, Bon Jovi broke into a chain of songs old and new.

It was a good concert, though not the best Bon Jovi show I'd seen. However, scoring the deal of a lifetime by getting five dollar tickets, I'd say that it was the best five dollars I have ever spent.

After last night's performance I can honestly say that I am still madly in love with Jon Bon Jovi, and that he and his intense song lyrics have ruined me for all men...

Advice on dating 'Mr. Wrong' -- 'Mr. Bachelor'

Dating: It's a dog-eat-dog world out there, especially the older you get. Trust me. It seems that if you're not married by the time you are 30 (Or, in my case, 31) than chances are you have had a few encounters with Mr. Wrong. -- Hey, Mr. Wrong can be a fun person to date if you know just exactly what you are getting yourself into!

Mr. Bachelor

Take for example 'Mr. Bachelor,' he's that good-looking guy who says things that make you feel all flowery inside. You're drawn to him almost instantly because he's the kinda guy that takes the time to stroke your ego, and he'll probably make you feel like a million bucks. Yep, 'Mr. Bachelor' is that mysterious stranger that has that certain je nes se quois. For him, flirting is a lifestyle.

'Mr. Bachelor' is usually a straight-shooter: He means everything that he says, but his words must be interpreted in the most literal sense possible. For example: When 'Mr. Bachelor' tells you something -- let's say he tells you that he thinks you're really pretty -- he means it. He thinks you're really pretty. However, that's all he means.

Too often we get caught off guard by a guy like 'Mr. Bachelor.' We are thrown off because his candour is so blatant that it becomes like a foreign language to us.

He told me that I was really pretty. What is he really trying to say?!

We begin to over-analyze his motives for telling us that we're pretty, or whatever, and just like that the simple thing that 'Mr Bachelor' has said to us instills a deep sense of confusion.

Why would he tell me I'm really pretty? Does he like me? Does he want to be my boyfriend?Should I ask for his number?! Does he really think I'm pretty?! He's probably just trying to get me in the sack! I bet he says this to all the ladies...

Communication error.

Therefore, when dating a guy like 'Mr. Bachelor,' we need to ensure that we understand how he works before we land ourselves into a situation that sees us getting hurt.

Step One: Simplify your mind

When 'Mr. Bachelor' says anything to you, take it literally. -- If he tells you that you're pretty say thank you. If he tells you that he likes you, then he likes you. (Just remember that him telling you that he likes you is not him telling you that he wants to be your boyfriend.)

Step Two: Dating is not the same as a full-blown committed relationship

If you and 'Mr. Bachelor' start dating (or start sleeping together) it doesn't mean that he is your 'boyfriend.' Nope. Never assume a title with a guy like 'Mr. Bachelor' unless it has been clearly established. Simply dating or sleeping with him means that you are simply dating or sleeping with him. -- To him, it is what it is.

Now, if you are comfortable with the situation as it is, then this is ok. However, when you are only dating or sleeping with someone it usually means that there is no exclusivity in this type of situation. Unless there are clearly established guidelines that openly state that neither of you will date or sleep with other people, the door is wide open. (Remember, 'Mr. Bachelor' sees the world in literal form, If you are just casually seeing each other the only thing saying that he can't casually see anyone else at the same time is you.)

If you want to be more than just a casual relationship with 'Mr. Bachelor,' ask him. He will likely tell you one of two things:

1. He wants more than a casual relationship as well, and you will become his official girlfriend.

2. He only wants a casual relationship.

Never assume!

Why?:

There's nothing wrong with getting to know 'Mr. Bachelor,' he makes a great 'vacation kinda boyfriend.' (Vacation Boyfriend: Temporary! Yes it's fun while it lasts, and you might plan a revisit for one day, but nothing that is realistic for your day-to-day life.) Dude will perhaps settle down and be boyfriend material one day, but until he decides to make that step, you can't change him.

Playing the field can be fun. Dating doesn't always mean booty calls and it doesn't always mean relationships. Sometimes dating is just hanging out with someone for awhile...

Next time, we'll talk about 'Mr. Smooth.' -- He's the one that you have to watch out for.