Oh Steven-Peter

It's obvious that Tinder is incredibly shallow and vain. There is no pretending this is about swiping right because you like the look of their soul. Please.
My friends have been around when I start the swiping game.  They think some of the reasons I swipe left are hilarous. What? I don't actually look at their face sometimes! I am looking at their clothes, the friends they are with, where they vacation, if they are a Jays fan... (btw I don't care about sports.) 
My shallowness includes names. Sorry Steven-Peter, not gonna be screaming that out in bed with you. Swiped Left.
Oh c'mon you wouldn't either!

kiss-kiss,
mh

Half plus seven

#DearTinderDiary: I have a confession.  Well more like a revelation. Observation? Oh nevermind. Here it is:
I may or may not have a tendency to be attracted to younger men.  *gasp* don't give me that look! I had no idea I was doing it on purpose! I just thought it was a coincidence...
Can you blame me, really? Younger guys are so cute, stylish, fun, relevant, interesting.  And it's a bonus if they are dim AND cute. Mmm those are the best ones...
And not all 27 year olds are created equal! And not all 40 year olds are created equal either (so I've been told since I have MANY more years til I am there...ha)  Nevermind that part. I have been very blessed with looking younger than I actually am. Merci mama et papa. 
So that helps too. Hey we're not talking about some old botoxed mutton in sheep's clothing mmmkay? I work out! I moisturize!
However, having said that a girl has to have a cut off. Thus applying the old rule -half my age plus seven years is the absolute youngest I can go (except that one time he said he was 23 but was really mature and the tequila kept reassuring me of that. But that's a whole other post...)
So as to not give away my real age so easily, my number is +/- the 24-27 range.
And god bless them for being eager and fun and they are everywhere 😘

xx
mh

Tyler, 27

Hi I'm Tyler. Would you like to have a slice of pizza with me?
It wasn't supposed to happen at all. I was supposed to meet my  friend after work for dinner on the other side of town. She wasn't supposed to suddenly fall ill and cancel. I wasn't supposed to have any energy to go shopping before heading home.
But I did and he stopped me out of the blue on my way home, bargains in hand and belly grumbling.
'You scared shit out of me' was the first thing I said. Not the cute-meet line they write in the movies for Rachel McAdams.   It's not everyday you feel a tap on your arm while you're walking home on a busy downtown street. He looked nervous, it took a moment to figure out I did not know this person. But then he smiled and it suddenly felt like I did. I instantly liked what was happening.
He was incredibly charming, took charge of this random meeting, made me laugh out loud. I was thoroughly impressed after 20 mins. He left just as I was intrigued. Damn.
I didn't think our number exchange would result in anything more than that laugh and slice of pepperoni.
He texted days later and we met for drinks. Bright blue puppy dog eyes, lashes batted gave him whatever he wanted from me. Nice hands, soft deep voice, slow but even articulate words. He kissed me goodnight even though I felt shy and hesitant. It had been a while that a kiss made me tingly all over.
I brazenly texted too soon after asking for more.
I enjoyed weeks of incredible fun and had butterflies every time we were together. Then I got scared and ruined it all in one swift move. One very terribly timed comment ended it.
That was a year ago now. Our eyes locked on the street again months later. We just smiled and kept going. I still think about him which I know is silly. But I thought he was sweet. Even though I wasn't. *le sigh*

#DearTinderDiary: I have learned not to be brutally honest at the worst time possible. (Those of you that know the storyare probably still shaking your head. I know, I know who does that? I did 😕)

xx,
mh

#DearTinderDiary: ENOUGH with Machu Picchu!

Oh mon dieu.  Have you missed me?  I have certainly missed all of you.  Thanks for still hanging in there.  This girl is sometimes a hot mess.  Nothing tragic or traumatic.  Honestly just First World Problems that I dare not complain about.

But I'll admit that this blogging business is difficult!  It's hard to be cute and interesting and humorous and engaging and entertaining and committed....did I mention cute?  It's like dating. Which I am STILL doing.

Please give me this post to rant about Tinder profile photos, and I promise to post about ALL the men (and some boys) that I've dated or who are on retainer. *wink*

Seriously ENOUGH with the fucking profile photos with Machu Picchu in the background!!  (Pardon mon Anglais.)  Doesn't ANYONE go ANYWHERE else on fucking vacation?  How about an Eiffel Tower?  I'll take the cheesy staged Leaning Tower of Pisa.  How about Big Ben?  Golden Gate Bridge?  I'll even take a Brooklyn Bridge!  I can't stand it.  Does this say something about the type of men on Tinder?  (Okay it probably says more about me, but I digress.)

As we all know, I have rules about swiping right (like) or left (nope).  I am adding this one to my list:  If you post a photo of you with this in the background, I WILL NEVER MEET YOU.  Along with middle fingers, too many ballcaps and sunglasses, only blurry photos, ones with your WIFE...call me picky all you like.  Don't hate the player, hate the game.

#DearTinderDiary:  I think travelling is great, but how come men on Tinder only go to Peru?  Is that weird, should I be worried, is there something I don't know?  *le sigh*

By the way, I am shamelessly asking you to follow me on Twitter AND Instagram:  mimiharveytoo

Kisses,
mh

Layton, 32

Dear Tinder Diary:  I think I may have dodged a bullet with this one.  But is it weird that I am still a little intrigued?

Layton had very nice photos posted.  Obviously.  Hot beach shorts, messy, dark, wavy hair.  Perfectly imperfect scruff.
His banter was flirty and forward for the initial match.  I had to remind myself where I was meeting him and hell I was riding high on all the male attention.  He promised pancakes in the morning.  Oh my!  Now remember I was new to all this and it had been a long time out of the game...I only know how to play coy and innocent at this point.

He tamed it down to wanting to tickle me.  Say wha? Now there's a first.  I laugh now about how ridiculously into it I was.  I detest being tickled.  We made a plan to meet a couple of days later.  He bailed.  Now I kinda want to be tickled.

Mike #2, 32

Dear Tinder Diary: Not to be old fashioned, but shouldn't a gentleman pay for your dinner if he expects a bj for dessert?

Mike #2 is cute.  He's funny. He's a big teddy bear.  If I were a gay man, he'd be the perfect Bear and I would be his Otter.  Except that I am not hairy which is good for a girl, not for an Otter, because I guess I would be more of a Twink, but nevermind, I digress...

We make a seriously great pub-night trivia team. He's a good kisser and can pick me up with one arm.   That's kinda hot.  But what happens when you've been out more than once and he's inconsistently paying/splitting the bill.  I had to go back to the restaurant we went to and tip the waitress because the bill was split so awkwardly that we only tipped her a dollar!

This bill paying made me wonder if he was no longer courting me and we were just homies going out for drinks?  Well Mike, if that's the case then do you and your other bill splitting homies go home together and you expect a hand job from them?  Yeah I didn't think so!   It's not like he was some poor starving student.  He has a really good paying job.  I don't think it would really break the bank to pay for my $12 burger.  And of course I can pay for my own damn burger, but that is hardly the point.  I know it sucks for men in this feminist world to still have to be old fashioned sometimes.  But can't I have a little nostalgia from time to time?

Mike #2 messaged me three weeks after the last awkward date where we were too tired to finish sex. Blah, it was a pity fuck at best and I just couldn't be bothered to tell him that I wasn't into it.  Maybe it was my shame sex too.   Whatever.
Oddly I felt guilty about just ignoring him.  It's like you've seen my vagina, and I've seen your penis, we should have an exit interview at least.  I got over the guilt pretty quickly and just never bothered to reply.  I think he got the hint.  And really, I don't feel that bad after all.

Update:   Mike #2 messaged me again about 2 months after I didn't reply, this time on Tinder. I didn't feel an ounce of guilt when I deleted our match.

xx,
mh

Mike #1, 41

Dear Tinder Diary:  I met a pretty cool guy.  Those blue eyes.  He's a grown ass man!  Works in finance, can afford to travel, eat well, act responsible but knows to have fun...  Pippa approves.  He's divorced and has a child though.  I never thought I would be into guys with previous lives like this.  But you know, maybe it's better because he's learned something.  He's had a proper adult life at least once already.  This is working out pretty good so far.

Guys can be too eager too.  I thought it was just girls who read into things too much and invent a future before anything has really happened.  Cousin Poppy and I call it "crazytalk" (always one word, trademark pending).

No bae, after 4 dates I don't really want to talk about being in an exclusive relationship.  We've been on 2 lunch dates during the week, 1 after work dinner date and 1 weekend date.  And then you were gone on a business trip for two weeks.  What makes him think he even deserves my exclusivity??  Sheesh. I'm a fucking catch!  Some nerve thinking he can have me all to himself after some expensive sushi dinner and a walk at the beach?  Mon dieu.

No bae, I never thought it was a good idea for you to delete your Tinder account after meeting me.  We matched after one day of signing up!  Talk about calling it with only a pair in your hand.

No Mike, we don't really get along as well as you think we do.  It only seems like I'm interested and listening intently as you bitch about your finance job and rave about your love of our hometown hockey team.  But I actually don't give a shit, I'm just waiting for you to shut up and ask me something so I can talk.

And yes Mike, I already told you that I was dating other guys.  I openly told you about sleeping with someone else as a courtesy and safety about my sexual activity. Don't then assume when I don't want to go out it's because I'm busy banging Mike #2 (next post, stay tuned!) like you passive-aggressively insinuate.  Keep it up and you'll be Mike Who?

And to be really shallow and blunt, I hate the tattoo of your kid's name emblazoned on your chest.  I guess it shows you're a great dad, but I don't like staring at it when we do it.  So keep your shirt on, thanks.
Oh and all this talk about "Dad bods" being a new hot thing, yeah I might be into it if you're Leo DiCaprio licking Cristal off me on a yatch to Ibiza; but a rented apartment and some $10 wine isn't quite the same.

Sorry bae, it's not you, it's me.

Dear Tinder Diary:  Grown ass men have their own set of flaws and it's harder to forgive because you'd think they learned a fucking thing or two about relationships and dating.  C'est dommage.  Now I know how guys feel when girls get all crazytalk on their asses.

Pippa et moi

Like two single, fabulous, I can't even, hilarious, fantastic peas in a pod.  That is Pippa et moi.
We met years ago back in uni through the guy I was dating.  Soon enough my relationship ended with Whatshisname, but I got custody of the coolest girl in the world.  We've been causing serious trouble ever since.

We drink too much and eat too many carbs. We drunk pinky-swore that we have to go out on random nights so that we can start meeting boys.  Apparently they don't just show up at the apartment when we're having pizza and watching tv together.  Duh.
"Let's start getting into soccer and hockey.  Bars with games on will have boys there."  Pippa is the smart one.  She's a Virgo.
She is always right, talking about guys we want to meet in my apartment would not make them magically appear.  We had to put on real clothes, close the Tinder app and go outside!

Shit.  Soccer season doesn't start for months.  There are no hockey games on right now.  It's Monday night.  Okay let's just go out anyway, after we finish the wine and pizza.

Turns out it's more fun on nights when there is no game on and cute bartenders are not busy pouring drinks and would rather chat with cute girls like us! 

"Focus!"   Pippa scolded.  Did I mention she's a teacher?
"Grown ass women like us should not be wasting our time flirting with 25 and 28 year old bartenders who are only being nice because we are their only customers!"
"Our energy should be on grown ass men who sit on the same side of the bar as we do!"

Damn her for being the voice of reason.  But she did have a good point.  There were some interesting men on our side of the bar that night, and the bartenders are the perfect conduit for starting up group conversations.  We had some great fun that night, and I even got a number.  I still have it posted on my fridge as a reminder that I still got it at a time when I thought I had lost "it" forever. 

This was turning out to be a great idea.  Pippa always has the great ideas.  I usually make the great mistakes.  It's a good match if you ask me.

xx,
mh

Billy, 38

Dear Tinder Diary:
Why do men promise things like throwing me up against a wall and doing all sorts and then don't call to meet for coffee like they said they will?

Mark, 46, recently separated, proposed such a wall throwing.  He was eager to get back in the game.  I didn't mind being part of that game.  Why the hell not.  But Mark stood me up.  Never to be heard of again.

You have a new match notification popped up when I got home from said stand-up.  (I purposely do not have the app installed on my phone.  I would never get any work done if I did. Duh.)

Billy was only in town for the night.  He was honest in telling me he was looking for a hook up.  But he wasn't having much luck.  I wasn't about to offer.  Our banter continued and he asked if I was interested in meeting up, for dinner and continued face-to-face conversation.  When one is stood up, one is very likely to agree to just about anything.

Driving to his hotel I became doubtful.  What. The. Fcuk.  It's Wednesday.  He's on a layover.  He was looking for a hook up.  Dinner and chatting is probably not really what he wants.  A wave of pathetic washed over me, I almost turned the car around.  Almost.

Dinner was fun, conversation flowed.  Billy says 'awesome' a lot.  He has a nice smile.  He's tall.  You weren't there, so you're just gonna have to take my word for it.  It wasn't what I feared.  It was getting late and I drove him back to his hotel.  I sheepishly sat in the corner of the room.  Why do hotels always put that useless weird armchair in the corner?  Doesn't everyone just end up sitting in bed to watch tv?

He came over and kissed me mid-sentence...

Not thinking I'd hear from him again (which was totally okay with me), we text almost everyday.  We met 4 months ago.
He comes to town sometimes, we've seen each other twice since that first match.  It's fun but it gets complicated...

Dear Tinder Diary:  I'm glad I got stood up.  Sometimes you need to experience that.  People have their reasons and it may have nothing to do with me.  Mark probably would have thrown his back out before throwing me up against any wall.

xx,
mh

Tony, 41

Dear Tinder Diary:
Will I get any matches?  Alex's friend Michelle has been on 30 dates, but she's 7 years my junior and probably fun and cute all the time.  Damn her.  Fine, I'll try but I can't make any promises.

I had matched with a few men very quickly.  There was some back and forth messaging, most just fizzled out, but I was not discouraged.
There was Josh, 38 that had potential.  A non-local in the city for work (there are a lot of film industry guys where I'm from) and our exchange was going quite well and frequent.  Just as we were about to finally meet in person, he stopped replying.  Shame.  I guess his wife found out, or he got deported.

Enter Tony, 41.  My first real life Tinder meet!  Truthfully, I meant to swipe left/nope but went right instead.  Rookie mistake.  He wasn't bad looking, just not my first choice, but his message banter was funny and I figured I had to start somewhere.  So I agreed to meet him.

Tony didn't look exactly like his photos anymore.  This might be Tinder but I never intended to guarantee sex on every date.  Girl has got to have SOME standards, sheesh.  I think/hope guys know that.  There was no way in hell that was going to happen, but he seemed harmless, and I already put makeup on and left the house.  It would be wasted to turn around and leave at this point.  Oh and of course, rude.

He told me his story about being kicked out of a certain religion for sleeping with a married woman when he was 19 and she was 42.  Cue for me to leave, right?  I didn't!  It was such a crazy story I couldn't just leave and not hear the rest of it.  I mean, can you even make that shit up?

It just got better from there - his move to the city was more recent than he led on.  He was living in a hostel (WTF) and had just gone for a job interview earlier but it didn't work out because there is "some issue" with his driver's license (double WTF).

When I finally got out of there, he asked me if he could see me again.  I told him when he gets an apartment and a job, maybe (my inside voice said never).

Dear Tinder Diary:
Is it okay for me to concede to a happy life alone with my herd of kittens?

xx,
mh