Today’s thoughts were inspired by the numerous times I’ve caught myself, girlishly daydreaming about my version of “the perfect relationship”. I hear about other couples, watch adorable proposals on YouTube, hangout with friends who are together and gush at their cuteness. So basically, I’m a classic, Disney-raised, black-and-white film adoring, hopeless romantic.
Problem is, as I know is some other modern-day-girls’ ‘pickle’: I’m not one of those adorable, fragile girls who can be literally swept off her feet (Audrey Hepburn comes to mind). Rather, I’m an average height (5’5”) athlete, who’s been blessed with unruly dark hair (that grows thickest in all the wrong places). I grew up with two older brothers who ruined me from believing any attempt with the cliches and pickup lines. And to top it off, I can say lifting weights is more enjoyable to me than shopping! I was raised to be pro-feminist, though anti-sexist, and independent to a fault. If you’ve ever read Bossy Pants by Tina Fey, I can very much relate to the description she gives about herself in her early years…it’s equally as embarrassing.
The point is, I’m basically as far from the perfect fragile bird that is the subject of all things desirable in many of my daydreams. I’ve come to terms with this, don’t mistake this for me throwing confetti at my own pity party here!
The thing I can’t picture though, knowing now that my fate will never be to wake up with a handsome prince peering down at me, holding in his one hand my tiny delicate fingers, and his other holding the entire circumference of my waist (..ya that’s not a thing I will experience) is how I can do all the ‘me’ things and still achieve a sustainable, everlasting love that’s stands the test of time, inspires those around us, defines the term ‘power couple’, and is the object of envy and longing??
I believe that I’m not the only one who wonders this. One: I’m not alone in my group of friends who are stubbornly waiting for ‘the one’, and two: the fact that online dating is a thing…helps my belief.
As a twenty-something, I realize that I’m young and ‘I have lots of time’ yadda-yadda (coming from the generation who is married to their high school sweethearts, second-year college/uni crush, or been married 2/3 times).
How does the relentless athlete, treehugger, wanderlusting, goal-driven, stubborn-as-an-ox, independent Amazonian achieve such a romantic story-book partner? The best I can do is, keep doing the things I love and it will happen…? #wordvomit
Have you ever watched the movie Serendipity? If you’re anything at all like me, you fell in love with the scenario, felt every moment of desperation as the two destined individuals read the signs and fate lead their course.
Well, I may have just experienced my own start to a real life serendipity…and now I’m totally…confused.
I met this Australian man one week ago yesterday, in Banff at a hostel. I was supposed to be there for an entire day before, but hockey had different plans for me. So my bestie and I had travelled down for a single evening to party with a bunch of friends and we’d leave Sunday afternoon.
At 11pm we arrive and join the party in the hostel bar. Beer pong, and lots of happy strangers everywhere, it didn’t take long to start meeting people. I went up for a drink and this guy started talking to me…or AT me, for a while, and then this tanned, blue eyed man caught my eye. We started talking a bit and it took one word from his beautiful mouth for me to realize he was not only extremely handsome, but also Australian. At this point; I’m in heaven. Some time after we’ve been chatting, and drinking…I notice his glass is empty and also that the bartender has disappeared..I grabbed his glass, ask, “would you like some cider? Here ya go..” I reached over the bar, pulled the tap and filled er up. We all started laughing and the goofiness continued.
As the night went on, my friends made plans to go dancing. So, after a ridiculous adventure through the streets of Banff, we went to another bar, Aussies still at the hostel. More drunken silliness occurred, during which we met a talkative Canadian east coaster. He proceeded to tell us his life story, how lovely, and followed us back to the hostel, which is when we promptly decided he had come far enough. Buh-bye!
It was 2am. Naturally this is when we decided it would be a great idea to go skating! On the way up to our room, we run into who else but a couple of Aussies, including one with those lovely blue eyes. “We’re going skating! Come with us!” They look at each other and quickly agree this is a good idea, even if they don’t have skates..
Kat and I go to my car, I grab my skates and somehow end up bringing my goalie pads, still two drinks past drunk, let me add.
About 10 of us spend about an hour on a snow covered street-block of ice with the snow falling down in a nearly solid sheet. The beauty, Easty they call him, ends up with my pads on; Piggy tries out my skates, and Rhino shows me what rugby is really about and tackles me into a heap of snow. It was a blast; one of those unforgettable nights that will live on forever, comfortable in my memory.
Once our fingers we numb, boots, loafers or skates saturated, and jackets or jumpers coated in snow, we headed back to the hostel. Easty came up to our room so I could remove my pads from his legs. Then I realized Pig still had my toque! So we went down to the Aussie room and posed like we were some adorable couple at the door, to be greeted by a roar of approval upon opening. Those guys are a total hoot!
We ended up talking in the hallway for a while after discovering Pig was too drunk to identify the whereabouts of any such toque.
Then, up to the common room (hostel policy). We met another ‘bloke’ from Tasmania, a guy from England and another from ‘Stralia. Each of them eventually called it a night leaving Easty and I to talk and make out. He was a gentleman. Interested in what I had to say, gentle and not too forward. I learned he was 28, had a steady job which he loves and works extremely hard at, and that he was single. We talked and kissed and cuddled til 430am. I had to stop myself from getting carried away. I wasn’t going to be that girl that I could never forgive. It was time for bed. After a long kiss, one more look into those bright grey-blue eyes, and the slow release of our hands with our arms fully extended, we said goodnight. This man made me feel completely giddy on this perfect night.
It took forever to fall asleep, but I did eventually. Woke up the next morning happy as ever, as we all exchanged perspectives of the previous night. Off to the hostel’s courtesy ‘breakfast’. Me in tights, a hoodie and a batman belt, goofy and tired. We were wrapping up our morning, most of the group feeling a little hung and ready to get going, when Easty shows up in red shorts (they look like boxers haha). We say hello, and he catches up on our morning, eventually grabs some food and has a seat with his friend. My friends and I get up to make our way back to the room, and Easty calls me over. I shuffle over in my 40 Below wigwams. He adds me on Facebook and we say goodbye for the last time in Banff.