The Leather Pants - Date 2

One girl's misadventures in online dating: Date 2 - Tom

       Tom showed up one day in my Daily Matches. Some of you may already know, but this is the best part of the day. Basically, you get 11 men chosen for you to peruse. Pictures, descriptions of themselves, descriptions of what they're looking for... I shamelessly judge, like, and message. I (secretly) look forward to this part of the day. How the matches are chosen remains a mystery. A lot of them say "100% match!" which is based on things like our preferences of hair colour, eye colour, race, income, etc. All of which I have not put a preference for, therefore the matches would appear to be random. The good news is that, in general, most of my matches have been good-looking.

       Enter Tom: good-looking enough, has stubble and blondish hair, first picture was taken at Sasquatch, others in the mountains, another on a motorcycle. So, following the tips from my man catching book, I strike up a conversation about motorcycles because after one ride with a friend this past weekend, I am clearly an expert. Funnily enough, when Tom responds to my message it turns out that his motorcycle instructor was none other than my motorcycle friend! What a small world! Needless to say, we chatted, eventually got each other's phone numbers, and decided to meet up. I was pretty excited; he seemed thoughtful, charming, funny, and interesting. We decided to meet at Original Joe's, I love OJ's! Have you had their crême brulée? If not, it's too late because they changed their menu.*

      Of course, I showed up early. I didn't know where I was going and also I didn't want to be walking around a restaurant looking for a guy when I wasn't completely sure what he looked like. I had all the same concerns as last time, but figured if I was already sitting, then I could hardly fumble around with handshake/hug awkwardness. I found a seat by the door, texted to tell him I found a table, and waited. I read the drinks menu and decided on the cucumber gin mojito. Thank God I showed up first, because I would not have picked him out from his pictures. Remember the blondish guy from the Sasquatch picture? Not him! Tom was a darker-haired guy with acne scars, crooked teeth, and stubble (redeeming factor). He was also way shorter than he appeared in his pictures; 5'9'' would be a generous estimation because I think I was taller. Alas, I couldn't leave. So we chatted for a while and got drinks. The mojito was ultra sweet and almost as disappointing as the date; I made it last because I couldn't drink it any faster. Conversation topics included: our mutual friend, other online dates, and being an electrician. Basically, I was able to contribute to one subject because the mutual friend topic was really about motorcycles and I've only been on one other online date (see: Date 1 - Anderson). Lulls in conversation ensued while I tried to come up with things to talk about and/or ways to be able to leave. Any question I came up with he would answer, but not ask me about. For example, I asked where he has travelled. He has travelled nowhere and didn't ask me about my travels, which could have filled at least a few minutes of conversation. Eventually it came up that he was going to a Tight & Bright themed party on Friday and he asked where to get stuff. I suggested Marshall's (never been there but I could see it from the table), looked at my watch, and figured he still had an hour to shop if he wanted. Then my heart fell, if it was only 8 pm that meant that I had only been there for an hour! How is this possible? Time was actually standing still. Between the shitty drink and the boring company, I was dying.

     Finally, the waitress realized we were not having more drinks and brought the bill, which he paid. Then I suggested we leave, he did not walk me to my car, we had an awkward hug, and I basically hightailed it out of there as fast as I could. I was home by 9 and was so exhausted from forced conversation that I went right to bed. I think it is clear that there will be no second date. It was so bad that I cancelled tonight's date, could not fathom making conversation today. Luckily I was invited to play volleyball instead of wallowing in my awful-date sadness.

     Last night, the leather pants were worn in vain. Sitting at a table does not show off the pants and they make fart noises when you move around in the booth, haha. So there's that.

 Love Sack Murda

*Update - The crême brûlée is still available at some locations, just not the one I happened to be at.

Em for Movies - Pan

Pan tells the story of a young boy named Peter’s search for his family. I think. It is set mainly in Neverland with an established landscape, familiar characters and a fairly patent premise; yet it left me with a profound sense of confusion. Pan is a fantasy, a spectacle, an adventure, but mainly a muddle. Rather than looking to the original story and using contemporary successes for inspiration to create something fresh, Pan seems to mash a bunch of elements together haphazardly, losing all the merits of the myriad source materials in the process.

The story begins with an eerie echo of The Chronicles of Narnia: the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. Peter Pan’s traditional world of Victorian England is updated to World War II, perhaps in order to include airplanes, bombings and a general air of temporally inconsistent senselessness which sets the scene for the rest of the film. Here we meet Peter Pan, a rebellious orphan with a pervasive fear of heights. Pirates wearing copious amounts of makeup á la Pirates of the Caribbean follow shortly on the heels of gluttonous nuns, and before you can say “What the shit?” we are in Neverland, where things actually make less sense.

Enter Blackbeard (think Hook, without the hook), who bears little resemblance to the historical person or fictional incarnations of Edward Teach. (Would it really have been that hard to come up with a new pirate name? Captain Gristle. Done. And there are no expectations of character or story to live up to.) Using rock anthems of counter-culture decontextualized and diminished into the chants of child labourers, Blackbeard runs a fairy dust mine and kidnaps orphans to provide slave labour. It is worth noting that the real Blackbeard actually freed the slaves from La Concorde, and was never known to have harmed any of his captives or hostages. Just saying. Captain Gristle on the other hand…

One of the downtrodden orphan slaves that Peter meets is James Hook (also without the hook): no longer an Eton-educated, devious, swashbuckling former boatswain to Blackbeard, but a gruff, tough (effing gorgeous), young American bent on escape from the mines and from Neverland. He reminded me of Indiana Jones more than anything. His love interest is a lamentably whitewashed Tigerlily, princess of a multiracial tribe of people who seem to be made of coloured dust.

Of course, everyone in Neverland has been waiting for the chosen child to fulfill a fairy prophesy. Do you suppose it could be Peter Pan? This now-hackneyed plot device was put to better use in Willow, The Neverending Story, and Harry Potter.  

What you end up with is a plucky WWII-era orphan boy prophesied to bring about the downfall of evil; a brusque, reluctant 1950s style hero; a tyrannical 18^th century pirate; and a warrior princess all following their patented storylines toward an inevitable conclusion. I get that Neverland is a magical place where time does not seem to matter, but the anachronisms were simply too much to figure.

What I love most about J.M. Barrie’s Peter and Wendy is the sense of dark foreboding that underlies the innocent games of childhood. I do admire the ambition of Pan’s filmmakers in attempting an origin story of Barrie’s eponymous hero. Pan had spirit, but something about it just didn’t fly; instead it floated with no sense of direction. Maybe if the filmmakers had referred to the original work, it would have given Pan some much needed gravity.

I give this a bar mat shot: the dregs of everything that should be good thrown together in a glass and called a drink. At least it’s boozy.

 

 

Cheers,

Em

Booze-Infused Beauties - An Introduction

Lizzy Lizzy in a Tizzy

I don’t know if any of you watched or read the Bernstein Bears growing up. I did. Essentially it is a story about a family of bears, who live in a tree and do human things like wear clothes and have arguments with one another.

I remember one particular movie where Sister Bear is circling her new neighbor friend, Lizzy, chanting, “Lizzy Lizzy in a Tizzy” and Lizzy would reply, “Sister’s mad and I’m glad” and so it went, for a shockingly long time. I don’t recall why these two bears were fighting but the scene came to me as I was thinking of a pseudonym for my online blogging personality. I am Lizzy and I am, indeed, in a tizzy!

Now, if you’ll learn anything about me at all, it is that I LOVE food, and I LOVE baked food, particularly the kind that is not all that healthy for you. Baking has always been a passion of mine, and in my opinion, something I am good at.

Recently, I was diagnosed with gluten intolerance and lactose intolerance. FML. I really thought my life was over. Like, why should I carry on when I can’t eat cookies, cakes, muffins, scones, cheesecake, cheese, ice cream, icing, brownies, tarts, pies, fritters, danishes, doughnuts, and well, anything else good in the world? (Did I miss anything?)

I cried when I found out, and continue to mope about my current predicament. If you are familiar with the stages of grief, I am presently still bouncing around between denial, anger, bargaining and depression. I think it may take me some time to reach acceptance, if that is, in fact, possible. However, I am planning to strap on my big girl pants (I only have one pair of those, and they are buried somewhere in the pit of my closet….Unlike my patience pants, of which I have several pairs readily available, though I seem to be forgetting those at home these days too.), and create some beautiful and unique recipes for others to enjoy, because another thing about me is that I like making people happy! And what makes people happier than baked goodies?? Good Question Lizzy. The answer is alcohol! That is usually the answer to most life problems, but in this instance, such an answer is acutely fitting. I plan to create some masterful recipes involving booze-infused baked goods and in turn, perhaps I will earn a (gluten-free, yummy-free) beer for my blog posting. Sounds like a win-win to me!

I promise I will test my booze inspired recipes on my little sister, who is just as snobby as me when it comes to baked goods, and if the goods suck, well, I can say, “Sister’s mad and I’m glad.”

Until next time, with a delish (hopefully!) recipe for Fireball Ginger Crinkle Cookies,

-Lizzy

The Leather Pants - Date 1

One girl's misadventures in online dating: Date 1 - Anderson

         It all started with a wink. What does that mean on online dating? Not sure, I think it's like a "like" on Facebook. Either way, he was cute so I wrote him a message, he responded and eventually gave me his number. We texted for a few days, I followed the rules in my new man catching book, and voila! A date! (According to my book I'm supposed to call it a "meet up", but I do what I want.)

        Let me explain about the book, after Adam ghosted, the girl who set us up recommended a book to me. This was weird for multiple reasons: 1. She just set me up with a dick. 2. Now she's giving me dating advice? okaaaayyyyyy  3. I don't really know her, she doesn't know for sure that I suck at dating. Regardless, I read the book because among other reasons: I am a huge nerd, I love reading, and I was curious. Many questions popped into my head: Am I man-repellant? Do other women have to read books in order to find men? How low can I possibly stoop? as well as others that I'm sure you can imagine. Anyway, I digress ...

        Thursday night, I donned my leather pants and drove myself to my favorite ice cream shop. At this point I was fairly concerned about the initial meeting: What do I say? What does he say? Will we hug? Shake hands? What if I don't recognize him? What if I approach the wrong person? 

         I was early, of course, because being late makes a bad first impression. The first person I ran into was someone from work, which made my thought process even worse, thinking they were going to watch me awkwardly meet my first online date. I quickly hid, hoping she didn't see me, and texted Anderson my whereabouts so that he could still find me. He drove up 10 minutes later, said "Sack Murda?" and made all my worries quite irrelevant. 

         He was as his profile had said he would be: 6'3'', brown hair, blue eyes, looked like the pictures. We chatted while we stood in line for ice cream and joked around. He paid for the ice cream (Yay! Free ice cream!) and then we went out to the stairs to eat it. Conversation flowed easily and it was obvious that we had a lot in common and a good connection. We talked about music and friends and family and whatnot. Eventually we walked over to a nearby park to explore for a bit, it was nice and still conversation flowed easily. Unfortunately, it had become obvious to me that, while he was good-looking, we had a lot in common, and he was nice enough, there was no spark there for me. The chemistry was missing and I think he felt that too*. I also got sort of pretentious vibes from him. He was opinionated about strange things and then over-shared his opinions. For example, he doesn't like tattoos and told me about it for over 15 minutes. I don't have tattoos, but I like them on other people. Finally, he walked me back to my car while we joked about this being where I murder him. Then he hugged me goodbye, no kiss, and I wasn't even mad. I was not planning on hearing from him again, unless maybe as a friend, but I have lots of friends. I went home and read my book (a different book, not about catching men) before bed. 

         All in all, I would say a medium success for a first online date. 1. At least he showed up, when he was late I was concerned. 2. At least he looked like he looked on his profile. 3. At least we didn't not have anything to say to each other.

Love Sack Murda

*Update: He texted today to invite me to be his Facebook friend. What does this mean? Who knows ... I know I will over-think it, though.

P.S. The leather pants were not worn in vain! A man cat-called me from his cab, so there's that too.

Em for Movies - Everest

I walked into Everest with no expectations, with no background or foreknowledge except that a storm would occur on the tallest mountain in the world. There was much more to it than that. The knowledge that it was a true story would have prepared me for a more harrowing journey than that.

In awe-inspiring 3D, I was blown away by the vistas, the shots and the ever-present awareness that we were at the edge of the world. My keen fear of heights nearly made me close my eyes, but the frankly stunning cinematography held me rapt.

The characters drew me in quickly; I followed their journey with hope and a slowly growing sense of dread. The tension built exquisitely and I was embroiled in the action before I could even acknowledge that any had taken place. Grounded in traditionalist storytelling, I was on high alert for an antagonist, for the telltale character flaws of hubris or malice, for errors or double-crosses I’d come to expect in a survival story. But I looked in vain. Reality is rarely that easy, and this story looked, felt, sounded and (turns out) is as true as possible.

I stumbled out of Everest emotionally drained and physically exhausted, as all of the muscles that had been tensed for two harrowing hours slowly relaxed. I could hardly answer my friends when they asked whether I had liked the movie. It was more of an experience, watching that brutal and beautiful struggle. I think that I did like it. I was moved and captivated, which is enough.

On the drinks scale, I was inclined to rate it an oxygen cocktail, after finding out that is an actual thing, but it sounds bloody impossible to make and may in fact be health food nonsense. So instead, I will rate it as a Dark Moon which is bold, chilling, and features enough caffeine to get your heart racing.

Likely the closest I will ever get to the Himalayas. Close enough.

Enjoy,
Em



The Leather Pants - An Introduction

        I'm not looking for my other half, because I'm not a half. I don't need completion. Alone, I am a complete person, I am a happy person, and I am more than capable of being by myself. That being said, I consider myself to be a hopeful romantic. I'm convinced that there is someone out there for me who will share in my happiness and be another whole that I can add to my life.

        The Leather Pants is going to be the story of my search for the man that I can share my life with. This is an introduction to how I got to this point in my life and what pushed me toward this leg of my journey.

        I am a girl who is very confident in myself and I know what I want. I have a career, a solid group of friends, hobbies of my own, a loving family, and a very happy life in general. I have dated a few men throughout my life, some relationships lasted longer than others, as they do, and some lasted just one date. From each of these men I've learned something about myself and what I'm looking for, but this year all of these things came to a head for me and led me on this new adventure. Obviously all names have been changed; I'm here to tell my story, not theirs, and I'm not here to disrespect anyone or the choices that they've made.

        This summer, I had my heart broken, stomped on, and disrespected by two men. The first, Dave, I had had a crush on for years. I had known him in passing and always thought he was good-looking, but never managed the courage to actually go and speak to him. One day, it came up that we had friends in common, and we ended up at a few parties together in quick succession. Things progressed from there and we went out together a few times. He was a gentleman at first; he picked me up, opened my car door, and treated me like a queen. That is, until he got bored. My grandma had been sick for a few months and then in July she passed away. I didn't really look to Dave for comfort because I knew that whatever we had was too new to expect anything from him. I guess I'll never really know what made Dave disappear, but when I asked what happened to him he said, "I don't know, that thing with your grandma really got to me". Yeah, I can definitely see how my grandma passing away could have been tough for you, Dave. And that was that. Simple and crushing. He had proven that he was a coward and couldn't handle real situations, so I had to move on.

       Following that, I received a message on Facebook from an acquaintance asking me if I was single because her friend had been checking me out and wanted to know. This would be the beginning of me and Adam. My acquaintance set up drinks one night for us to meet, we chatted in the parking lot, texted a lot, and eventually went on a date. I will say for Adam that it was one of the best first dates I've ever been on, we had an immediate connection, and the date lasted 12 hours without me getting bored of him. The next little while was filled with him pursuing me, texting me, telling me how he's never met anyone like me, and him basically leading me on. We went on a bunch of dates, got to know each other, and had a lot of fun. Things progressed quickly emotionally for both of us, or so I thought. It didn't last long, but it was an intense "relationship" if one could call it that. One day I sent a fateful text that started "Hey babe," because I call most people I'm close with either "babe", "baby" or an equivalent term of endearment. I thought nothing of sending this text and was not concerned at all. A few days later, after not having heard back from Adam, I texted him that I was getting blow-off vibes from him and that if he wasn't into it anymore then he should tell me. He responded, "I feel like you are at a different level than me. The babe thing was kind of out of the blue". This after I had tried to catch up to his level! He had pursued me, told me how into it he was, and I had believed him. I called him that night to explain that I call everyone "babe", but he didn't answer and I never heard from him again. Fret not, dear reader, Adam did not die in a freak gasoline fight accident, he is alive and well.  He still communicates with anyone who didn't call him "babe" and posts shirtless pictures on Instagram. He has been added to my list of cowards that can't handle real situations and shall remain there.

       From an outside perspective, those stories might not seem like the end of the world, and they definitely aren't, but they were the two inciting incidents for the rest of my story. Writing about them now and having time and distance from the emotions I can't really explain how I felt, but if you've ever fallen for someone you shouldn't have, and then had your heart broken by that person, you can imagine how I was feeling. It would be impossible for me to put all of the emotions of this summer into a blog post, but you'll have to believe that for me the feelings were real and that my heart was broken.

      All this to say I was done with meeting guys through friends and through my hobbies. My work best friend had just gotten married last year and he met his wife online; one of my girlfriends met her boyfriend online; dating sites boast that anywhere between 1-in-5 and 1-in-3 relationships start online, so I began thinking, "Why not me?" Maybe this is the way people meet now, I'm certainly not young enough to go to the club and meet a guy, and if I did, he wouldn't be someone I would spend my life with. I signed up for online dating the next month, after sufficient heart healing, and that's where this story begins.

       You're probably wondering, why the leather pants? The same girlfriend who met her boyfriend online has this pair of leather leggings and she looks amazing in them, I've been jealous of them for a while. So when Adam ghosted, I needed a pick-me-up. My girlfriend took me to the mall and we bought a pair of leather leggings that we then deemed my "revenge pants" because I was still feeling justifiably spiteful at the time and had decided that if Adam saw me in them he would be fittingly upset. These are the pants that my friends and I have decided I will wear on all my online dates, just to see what happens.

       So sit back, relax, and watch as my leather pants and I step into the crazy, intimidating, and possibly awesome world of online dating.

Em for Movies - The Martian

About a year ago I was given a copy of The Martian. I hadn’t heard anything about it whatsoever, apart from my mother’s strict instructions to, “Read this, then call me.” The cover was intriguing and I didn’t even bother reading the blurb on the back; I immediately flipped to the opening line and was hooked.

Earlier that same week, I’d had a very fun conversation with a friend about our all-time favourite opening lines of novels. The Martian leapt into my top 5 with style.

            “I’m pretty much fucked.” Bam.

Naturally, I was thrilled when I heard that they were turning Andy Weir’s triumphant, (originally) self-published sci-fi geekventure into a movie. As with any adaptation, I had certain expectations going in and I must say they were all either met or exceeded. As though the filmmakers had my checklist in their hand, going point for point and making sure they got everything.

A (very) little background on the story for you: Mark Watney is a very bright, capable, nice guy left for dead on Mars by his crew during a crazy storm.

What makes this story work is the personality of its hero. Mark is wry and practical and relatable. He embodies the slightly nerdy and irrepressible spirit of modern survival, where he is very aware of how precarious his heroics are (making water by burning hydrogen springs to mind), and yet unwilling to accede. Matt Damon waxes perfection, expressing the boyish zeal as well as the logic and tenacity of the character.

The secondary cast members shine as well; Jeff Daniels, Jessica Chastain and Chiwetel Ejiofor turn in great performances. Sean Bean was understated and perhaps underutilized in his role, though I suppose not dying (spoiler?) was a new challenge for him. It felt truly surreal and a little jarring when a meeting of NASA’s finest is obliquely referred to as “the Council of Elrond”, and the Lord of the Rings reference is then explained with Boromir sitting quietly in the background. Not worth dwelling on, though.

Mars itself was desolate and beautiful and terrifying, as it should be. It was given center stage as far as scenery goes, with the action on Earth centered in offices and control rooms. Even outdoor shots of crowds gathered together to watch feats of derring-do 140 million miles away are tightly focused urban scenes with no visible horizon or landscape to speak of. This worked to give Mars the greater sense of place and realism, which kept me well grounded on the red planet.

Overall, The Martian was everything that I wanted it to be. Elements of classic sci-fi treated with a self-awareness and ease made it a delight to watch. A liberal addition of humour (ever-present in the book as well, if you couldn’t tell from the opening line) alleviated the drama and counterpointed the action to make a truly enjoyable film.

In the scale of drinks, I'd give it a cardassian sunrise.