Week 4: Honeymoon Suite

Week of May 2nd 2015

Dear Diary ,

Sorry I've been MIA the week- I was away in the Dominican for a week with my Bestie Nicole. We booked last minute after an unfortunate text message from my ex The PA (aka party animal) sent me into a horrible spiral of self-pity. The PA is the last guy that I dated seriously that treated me like shit but I stuck around because I was trying to "fix him." It lasted five months before I finally realized that I was the one that needed fixing if I was willing to put up with such a Dick for so long. Long story short he messaged me saying, "Happy Bird day..", (even though it has been a month since my birthday.) Clearly he was high, unless in the unlikely event it was some sort of day in celebration of birds but somehow I doubt that. 

I graciously sent a message saying "thank you but you're a month late." to which he responded ten hours later, "Who is this?" Of course, I called Nicole to console me. After polishing off two glasses of wine we stumbled upon a great, non-refundable deal to Dominican, which on a sober head the next day we could not get out off. So last Tuesday we packed our bags and took off down South. 

The trip was an entirely relaxing holiday where I met zero men but on the bright side Nicole and I were showered with good fortune- from a free room upgrade to the honeymoon suite, to private candlelit tables for dinner. It was only on our last day that I realized they thought we were lesbians- why else would two relatively good-looking, almost thirty year olds be single right? 

Anyway, back from paradise now and realize that I may be destined to spend the rest of my life in a faux, lesbian relationship with Nicole. Feeling quite happy about that actually-things could be much worse! 

I'll be back shortly. I am awfully intrigued by a show on TV at the moment called, "Naked and Afraid." (Partially to do with the fact that this sums up exactly how I feel about seeing my body post-vacation in my unflattering bathroom lighting.) Also if you're wondering about Alfie, he is still with me. My roommate watched him for me while I was away. I missed that little cranky bastard.

Talk soon babies

xx

Week Three: Vagine

Week of April 25th

Monday April 25th

Went to a reflexology session at a place buried in the depth of China Town (slight possibility that it was a rub and tug) and experienced the most excruciating pain on the side of my left heel. When I asked the ancient Asian Lady who barely spoke a lick of English what the pain was associated with she expressed in a very loud voice "VAGINE. IT YOUR VAGINE. YOU HAF PROBLEMS WITH VAGINE?" 

Yes. Thank you for reminding me that I haven't had sex in a while. Seems as though, my Vagina is desperately trying to send for help through my feet. I'm thinking I do need to sleep with someone soon though. The Pilot and I have been flirting extraordinary amounts and I don't think it's very healthy. Why must he be so smooth?  

After thinking that he didn't like me because he didn't make a move last week in Chicago, I was proven wrong when he called me into the cockpit and lightly placed his hand on my thigh while asking for a water. 

Also oddly enough he is the Pilot on almost all of my flights this coming month- is it fate? or did he intentionally put in a request for us to work together? Not sure what I like the idea of more..

I guess I will find out soon enough what his intentions are.

Wednesday April 27th

I always try to save my dates for Wednesday. There is just something about Hump day that makes spending a drunken evening with a practical stranger very alluring. Tonight I had a date with a guy that I met off Tinder. Jimmy was very tall and sweet but he may be suffering from a bout of possessiveness.

Nicole was out on a horrendous date nearby with another match.com suitor so I invited her to join us to cheer her up. Only problem was once she got there, Jimmy started to act very strange...Naturally like a good friend I seated Nicole between Jimmy and I along the bar so she wouldn't feel left out. But that didn't sit well with Jimmy. He started grilling Nicole about her single status and he thinks that the only reason I'm single, is because she is? Nicole being the very nice person that she is, tolerated him in the classiest way possible- nodding, smiling and aggressively rolling her eyes behind his back. 

Finally when the night was coming to an end he gave Nicole the cold shoulder without even a hug goodbye. In fact, he shoved her out of the way to get to me. I'll be hearing about this one for the next week... I think I will see Jimmy again, after all a hint of possessiveness is a nice ego booster so I'll keep him around for now. 

Friday April 29th

Woke up today and decided to take my loneliness into my own hands- signed up to become a foster mom to a dog. Not so sure, how my roommates cat will feel about this but he's an asshole so I don't really care all that much about his feelings. Anyway the dog got dropped off tonight but it wasn't exactly what I had pictured when I signed up.

First of all, you would think there would be some kind of prep for this sort of thing but because it's a friend's, friend who runs this rescue organization, they just assumed I would be a responsible dog mom. So before I could really ask any questions, all of a sudden a lady with a really thick Cantonese accent pulled up to my town home at 9pm and dropped off a carrier with a dog inside. She also gave me all of the essentials like food, a leash and poop bags. (I totally forgot I would have to pick up dog shit every day when I signed up but I suppose I'll get used to it.) Anyway I tried to ask her some things about the dog seeing as it was like a blind date setup and I had no idea what it would look like but she had no idea what I was saying. So off she went and left me by myself to discover what was inside of the carrier. 

If my dating life is any indication as to what would be inside of the carrier, I should have known it would be something riddled with issues and not very attractive. Turns out my gut instinct was accurate. I pulled the zipper down and out popped a tiny Poodle head. His short curly hair was ruffled and caramel coloured from dirt, his tongue hung out of his mouth because he has no teeth and he tried to bite me almost immediately. I looked into his tiny, beady eyes and knew exactly what to call him: Alfred (Alfie for short.) Alfred looked like a senior citizen and after a quick text to my friend, I learned that he is ten years old and came straight outta Compton. He happened to land that night in Brooklyn and lucky me, my house was his first stop.

I placed a leash on Alfie's little body and he immediately pooped in front of me and then kicked it with his hind legs so that it went flying into the bushes. Alfie and I will get along just fine.

Week 2: Sky High Flirtations

APRIL 18 2016

Did a very bad thing last night. Spent the night in Chicago on a layover and happened to run into The Pilot again- you know the one that is a ladies man and all around bad news? Yeah him. Anyway after pretending to be busy in a deep conversation with an old man, who may or may not have died midway through after disappearing in to the washroom and never coming  back, The Pilot made his way over to me. 

Once again the conversation was easy and the more I drank, the more I wanted to see what was underneath his clothing. Fortunately for me, he actually behaved like a gentleman. He walked me to my room and gave me a hug good night. Now I'm not really sure what to think? Maybe he doesn't like me? And of course now I like him. Why do I do this to myself? 

I've got a flight to catch back home but I will keep you updated.

xx  

APRIL 19 2016

Phone woke me up at 6:45AM with a message from the Pilot: "Can't stop thinking about you." Although I wanted to respond right away, I ended up waiting thirty minutes so as not to come across as too eager. I also wanted to think of something clever to say.

Then this happened. Being that I was half asleep I responded with, "haha who me?" That's right. No 'hi, how's it going?" like a normal person. Nope. Just. haha Who me? I know you're probably thinking what is wrong with her? I'm thinking the exact same thing. The problem is, I'm much more charming in person. I suck at texting. I overthink (or apparently under-think it) and most of the time respond in emojis because it's just too much pressure to say the right thing and then have it out there until the guy decides to get a new phone or delete me. 

Anyway, Pilot responded with, "you're so cute. Can I take you out this week?" 

Just kidding.

He hasn't responded with anything. I'm giving him 24 hours. If he doesn't respond then I'm just going to assume he's dead like the ginger lawyer from last Wednesday.

xx

Week 1: He Loves Me Not

Friday April 15th

Told my girlfriends I was busy tonight. More like busy waiting for The Lawyer to message me. Here I thought our date went great on Wednesday but apparently not. Friday night and I am sitting at home like a loser with my roommates serial killer cat. Surely strong independent women don't behave like this? Perhaps I need to play my Beyonce album and remind myself of how great I am. Funny how we can sometimes put our self esteems in the hands of a complete stranger.

A watched pot never boils and a watched phone never rings. Truer words have not been said. Maybe if I leave my phone upstairs for a few hours and do something else he will message. Yes. That's got to be the solution.  

3 hours later

Ugh. Gingers are the worst... Why say "I will message you," only to ignore me for the next three days. I hate this game that guy's play. Last time I checked I didn't sign my feelings up for a round of roulette. I don't particularly enjoy gambling with my emotions like this. It really isn't good for my well-being. If you like me. Call me. It's as simple as that. Can't help but replay the whole night in my head now, thinking that I must have done something wrong. Also starting to think that maybe I am crazy sharing my thoughts in real time online? May regret this in the morning...

My phone is ringing! Maybe it's The Lawyer? 

Nope. Just got off the phone with Nicole and feeling much better about myself. She's right. He's doing me a favour by acting like a jerk from the get go because now I can move on without investing any feelings in him. Onto the next! 

2 glasses of wine later

I'm back. But Maybe he just lost my number? Or his phone? It's only fair that I track him down on Facebook and send him a message. I'm sure he's wondering how I am doing. 

Going to write this: "Hey it's me. Had a really great time on Wednesday. My phone's being acting up these last couple of days. Going to get a new one tomorrow. Well alright have a great night talk to you son xx."

Okay yes I told a little white lie about my phone but only to give him an opportunity to redeem himself. And who knows, this way if he did send me a message and I didn't get it then at least he knows to send me one again. 

"READ"

Never mind.  I'm such a stalker. Why did I just do that? Fuck. Just got smacked in the face with the worst word on Facebook- READ. He's read my message and still no word from him. So he's consciously choosing to ignore me. Ouch. It's not that I want to jump into an immediate relationship with him. It's just that it would be nice not to be viewed as some disposable being by a person that spent hours with me and even rubbed my dirty feet. That's it. I refuse to be a loser.I am going to go meet my sister and our girlfriends at the bar. Enough already. 

One More Thing...

I'm hopeless. Just discovered that I'm missing an extension track.  Which I must have left in The Lawyers bathroom. NO wonder he hasn't called me. He probably thinks I'm gross. Oh well I guess there's nothing I can do about it now. Take me or leave me buddy. I'm going upstairs to finish getting ready and I'm leaving my phone downstairs. (Just in case.)

xx

Week 1: Date With A Gingy

Week 1: Wednesday April 13th

Had a very interesting first date last night with a lawyer that I met on Tinder this weekend.

I gave up on Tinder last year after an incident with an Albino who deceived me with the use of filters. But, decided to sign up again last week as a means to meet new people while I'm out of town. As a flight attendant it can be very isolating when you're the only one on your crew with a drinking problem. I often find myself sitting alone at the hotel bar willing the bartender to ask me all about my life problems, just like in the movies, but it never happens. Instead, the most I get out of them is, "Can I bring you the bill?"  

Anyway, this weekend as I sat on the toilet drunk I decided to amuse myself by perusing through Tinder. Drunk Tindering is the best because I tend to swipe right on more suitors and thus greatly increase the odds of meeting a man with a winning personality. The Lawyer is no exception. He's a ginger. I thought they were extinct? Regardless, there's no way I would have picked him sober but it's a good thing I did because we really hit it off. 

He invited me to his apartment prior to the date and somehow after a bottle of wine and copious amounts of cheese we wound up staying there. We laughed and talked all night. There wasn't a minute of silence. Then he kissed me. It was passionate. So passionate that unfortunately he almost pulled out my hair extensions. This was sort of a buzz kill but also exciting because of how fiery he was. I decided to forget about the extensions for a few more minutes and indulge in his face before running to the washroom trying to hold the remaining extension clip in place. Once in the washroom I took the extensions out to reattach them to my head when my phone buzzed and completely distracted me from the task at hand. 

It was The Pilot from work. The mysterious Pilot who also happens to have a drinking problem and sat with me at the bar two weekends ago when a snowstorm grounded us both in Boston. Although I am intrigued by him, I get the sense that he's a massive player. He is just one of those effortlessly cool guys- charismatic, great smile, all the girls love him. My mother always warned me, "do not date pilots- they're shady." Her dad was a pilot and I guess she caught him on more than one occasion with another ladies skirt over his head. Fortunately in my drunken state of mind I forgot all about responding to him, when a little tap on the door from the Ginger made me get a hurry on with fixing my extensions. (A blessing in disguise- The Pilot messaged me, "Hey I have a very important question for you..." at 11pm. I think not.) 

After five failed attempts to clip my extensions back in, I stuffed them in my bag and waltzed back out to my Gingy with confidence. Sitting on his couch for two more hours as he massaged my feet I decided to call it a night when his brother torpedoed inside and started describing in detail how he just penetrated his girlfriends ass. My cue to leave. 

All in all a very successful evening. I am feeling confident that The Lawyer will message me any minute. It's Thursday afternoon so I can only presume he's busy working, 

xx

Introducing Charlotte Miller

Hello my name is Charlotte and I'm a serial dater. There I admitted it. Can we move on now? 

I am 29 years young, living with an annoying roommate who leaves dirty mason jars everywhere and her equally annoying cat who stalks me day and night. I'm convinced he wants to kill me in my sleep. I'm also sort of single. The reason I say sort of is because I have two very important boyfriends in my life- my best friend Nicole and Net-Flix. (Pronounced Nay- Flee. It's French.)

I never thought I would be one to share my life with the world but there are only so many times I can whine to my friends and family about my shortcomings before they tune me out- so here I am internet. Thanks for listening. 

I have always been that girl with a guy in her life. From serious boyfriends to seriously dating a "guy-friend" for months, to casually dating Tim, Chuck and Jeff at the same time as means to fill up my social calendar. I have never truly experienced single life. And yet, I just turned 29 and I feel more single than I have ever been. My age has crept up on me and I am now stuck in that awkward phase where all of my friends, acquaintances, enemies and baby sister are settling down. Thank God for my best friend Nicole who is equally as single and provides me with all of the ego stroking support I need. (She's not allowed to get a boyfriend until I do- fortunately she's a cooperative one.)    

In a mere 12 months I will be 30. THIRTY. The big 3-0. The Dirty Thirty. And I have decided to take control of my life. This year will be different. I can just feel it. I AM TAKING BACK CONTROL! The first step to fixing a problem is figuring out what the problem actually is. Here is my list so far: 

1. I love wine a little too much.

2. Netflix, eating Nutella with a spoon and sleeping alone with my face smeared in pimple cream excites me more than any guy I have met in the last year.

3. I do love the act of going on a date but most of the time lose interest in the guy almost immediately because he's boring.

4. Although the odd time I do like a guy, of course he ends up messaging me five days after the date, when I've already resolved that he's dead.

5. I have no filter.

6. I watch too many romantic comedies and Disney movies so may have slightly unrealistic expectations of what a man should be like. Perfect- is that really asking for too much?

7. I own a moo-moo. 

Friends and family tell me I'm too picky- that I should settle down already and stop blaming everyone else for my single status. But they just don't get how hard it is to date some of these guys-it's not me, it's them... 

Twenty Nine is my year and I'm inviting you to follow me on this journey of self-discovery and finding love. (Or don't. I probably won't be able to tell if you're reading anyway. I'm still not very good with computers.) 

A bientôt. I hear a glass of wine calling my name. 

xx

Week 1: The Countdown To Thirty

Week One: Friday April 9th

This weekend marked the start of my 52-week countdown to thirty, Spent Friday night completely plastered, waving my hands in the air as my family and friends surrounded me in celebration of my day of birth. The night was going by smoothly enough until nosy relatives started throwing me pitying glances and asking me if I've had enough of the single life yet. What about me dancing with no shoes on and screaming "I will survive" at the top of my lungs indicates that I'm not enjoying being single?  

Your birthday is supposed to be a time of celebration and it was..until the tenth drink of vodka that is. That tenth one always gets me. (I'll admit, sometimes it's the fifth or second.) No matter how happy I am at the beginning of the night, like a pesky ex-boyfriend, vodka always has the ability to alter my mood from really happy to an emotionally unstable idiot. I don't always cry but when I do it's when I'm drunk and for absolutely no reason. 

Friday night was no exception.

That tenth shot suddenly catapulted me into a state of misery as I sprinted for the washroom. I'm not sure why I was crying, It may have had something to do with the vomit projecting from my face or the fact that the waiter had just called me ma'am. Yes. I think that's what probably did it.

There is so much pressure on us women for our age. What am I supposed to do about it? I can't help that I'm getting older. Or that I haven't found some "love of my life" to plant a seed inside of me for the sake of everyone else's happiness. When did life become so stressful? It went from everyone telling me for years that "you're so young, you have your whole life ahead of you," to "oh wow you're almost thirty. Well you look great for your age. Better get a move on though you old gal."

How exactly am I supposed to look at 29? Since when did being 29 suddenly mean that you're supposed to look like an old lady? And why does everyone just want me to settle down with any guy who is deemed as "nice" or "normal"? When I was younger, family and friends preached that I shouldn't waste my time on just any odd guy because I deserved the very best. So if he didn't have a lot going for him, even if he was nice, that meant he wasn't good enough for me. And yet now apparently any nice, normal guy will do because hey, I'm almost thirty. It's really all a load of bullshit. 

Thankfully my bestie Nicole wasn't far behind and consoled me by showing me her latest match.com suitors-  Nothing like looking at a bunch of uglies preaching about their "psychological healthiness" to put me in a better mood. On the way home to my place, we stopped by a Pizza place and grabbed a large to go. Nicole and I passed out on the couch immediately after devouring the entire pizza. At least it was Veggie. You see- not all of my life choices are bad.  

xx