Serendipitous

This isn't necessarily a failed date, but rather, a failed interaction with a male. One that only I, of all people, would have. So this counts.

As aforementioned, I have a lot of hair. One long, thick mane. I may have been a horse in a previous lifetime.

A few days ago, I was running to catch a bus and the city was undergoing a downpour. Upon seeing the bus I needed to take, I made a dash for it, but not before noticing a tall, gorgeous man under an umbrella, making eye contact with me. At that moment, I entertained a myriad of romantic possibilities in my head, and they were accelerating at rapid speeds. I thought of everything from our first date, to our Bollywood wedding, to our future mixed-race (or as I refer to it: milk chocolate) children. Upon returning eye contact while passing, I failed to notice anything else around me: including the spoke on his umbrella that got caught in my hair, and sent me ricocheting backwards into him.

His reaction (clearly dumbfounded):
"I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

My reaction (while staring into his lovely, dark eyes):
"I'm sorry too!" I cried. "Although, I don't know why. Sorry. There's my bus, I've got to run! See you again!"

And so, I ran.

Chances are I may never see him again. But one can always hope that moments like these will happen again. And I can bet you, this sort of thing will happen to me at least once more. Let's just hope it's with another handsome fellow.

Humble Beginnings

Ah, beginnings. There is always a first time for everything, and thus, there is a first story/anecdote/terrible tale for it all. To mark the birth of this platform, here are my humble beginnings as a cynical, single woman. 

I was one of those girls who didn't start dating until later into high school. I came from a traditional, Indo-Canadian family, which became broken about half-way through my childhood due to divorce. My mom took on the role as father-figure as well as being a mother, and was always willing to share her wisdom with me when it came to making it on my own, sans men.

"No dating until you're well into your forties, laddu." (Lesson: Abstain until you're ready.) 

"Boys are gross. Stupid. No dating, even after you're forty." (Lesson: Relationships can have it's disappointments.)

"You're not allowed to date, even after I die, love. But I want beautiful grandchildren from you." (Lesson: Immaculate conception will be my future.)

As you can see, I had been equipped with all the tools I needed to face the big bad world of boys, along with my bushy, triangle shaped hairstyle, and large pedophile glasses I donned back in the day. In fact, I have real-life proof of my pre-teen glory:

           (I think I may bring those glasses back in my everyday style.)

It brought upon a series of expectations of which future mates and myself had to work towards. The purpose of this first affirmation (and future posts) is not only to remind myself of those standards, but to inspire you, the reader, to laugh and learn (but mostly laugh) from these testimonials. Also, this method of creative therapy is much cheaper than the psychological workouts I would be getting from a trained professional. 

More testimonials to come.