Pick Up Trick #3

Sexy Scent

Most women like to put a splash of something on in order to smell nice, but I think that it is really important to take the time to pick the perfect scent... for you. Not all perfumes smell the same on each person because of the oils in our skin, so scents can change person to person.


For me, it's Calvin Klein's "Euphoria". I got a tester of it about four years ago, and each night that I dabbed some on I had guys fawn all over me. I'm not even exaggerating when I say that guy's literally stopped me on the sidewalk and said wide-eyed "You smell AMAZING." I smiled bashfully and replied, "Thanks. It's my euphoria." So, after countless confirmations from male strangers, I decided that whatever this scent was doing mixing with my oils, it was working. I bought myself a bottle and for four years I have shooed all other scents away, determined to make this scent my own.


I have always wanted a sexy smell associated with me, so when some random woman walks in a room with MY scent on, it makes all the men think of me. And after four dedicated years, I finally got confirmation of this from a male friend of mine. He had "smelled" me at a party that I didn't attend. I was attending a different party where my spicy scent had been... approved.


Mission accomplished.


Euphoria may not be the scent for you, but taking the time to find out what perfume turns magic on your skin, is worth the fireworks it could bring.

Sexual Healing

A couple of weeks ago I got a killer headache that lasted for days. I tried Advil, sleeping more, sleeping less, cold packs, heat packs, yoga, but nothing would shake it. I would go to bed with it and wake up with it for days on end... this was one stubborn headache! Finally, when my cranial pressure became unbearable, I started to wonder if maybe there was some connection between my wound up brain and my wound up vajayjay from a recent lack of sex. (The blog title doesn't lie people!)


With that conclusion in mind I decided action must be taken. I mean, this is my health were talking about. But having no boyfriend up for duty, and a one stand with a random being rather unappealing, I decided to call up a friend. 


Troy and I have been friends for a few years, we always have fun together, and we had one hook up a while back that was particularly enjoyable. So in search of some sexual healing I called Troy up and asked him point blank for a "favour". I explained that my health was in jeopardy and as a friend I would appreciate if he would help me out by having sex with me. That's what friends are for, right?


Troy first complimented me on my forthrightness and explained that he had a commitment that evening that he would try to get out of. After we hung up, he called back about 30 seconds later and said he was in. And so, a therapeutic evening of romping began. We managed to get a couple rounds in that night, and though the headache had magically disappeared by then, we squeezed one more round in the morning for good luck.  I know self-diagnosing is frowned upon, but in my case, playing doctor cured me right up.


It's been a week now and I have remained headache free, but Troy assured me if that call of duty was required again, he was my man. So if you have a nasty headache that won't shake, why pop a pill when there's a much more pleasurable way to release that tension? Worked for me...

-Dr. Crystal Quinn, Medicine Woman.

The Doppelgänger

After getting lazy with my dating life for a couple of months, I decided to step up my game and go on a date again. I had been chatting with Michael for a couple of weeks and we set up a coffee date right in my neighbourhood. Michael's profile gave little away about himself, but he seem liked a really genuinely nice guy, even if his pictures looked a bit dorky. Since all the handsome men in my life have turned out to be assholes, I thought dorky might be good.

So I can't even describe my surprise when we met and I realized that Michael was not dorky in the least. In fact, he was smoking hot. It is pretty rare to find someone that good looking who could simultaneously be that unphotogenic, but there he was. Now, his surprise handsome features would have been a really good thing if it wasn't for one small detail: he was my asshole, cheated on me for three years, lying, manipulative ex's doppelgänger. (For those of you who don't watch How I Met Your Mother or have just never heard of the term, a doppelgänger is a person's body double- sort of like a long, lost twin.) And as far as my evil ex and Michael went, they were IDENTICAL... from the creases on his forehead, to his two crooked bottom teeth, and even his perfect crystal blue eyes. It was uncanny.


Anyway, I found myself on the world's most bizarre date as this very sweet, very handsome guy began to tell me about himself and I did a mixture of gawking at him and giving him the stink eye. Part of me wanted to just tell him the reason I was acting like such a weirdo was because he was my ex's twin, but I didn't really think the first words out of my mouth should be about an ex.


By the end of the night I had convinced myself that this was my evil ex's saintly twin and maybe I should give him a shot. But apparently my lack of interesting conversation and continual stink eye didn't make Michael feel the same way. Truth be told, I really don't know what to make of the whole date. Maybe it was God playing a practical joke on me, maybe it was closure for a relationship that turned sour. But it certainly chalked up to be one of my strangest dates yet.


So the question is... do I dare put myself out there again?

Betty vs. Veronica

I recently got bored and decided to dye my Barbie blonde hair almost jet black. I know most people usually change their colour gradually, but I figured go big or go home. If I was becoming a brunette I was going all the way.


It's only been a week of brunette-dom but I have already noticed a few things about being a Betty (blonde) versus a Veronica (brunette). If you didn't read Archie comics as a kid, sorry for the analogy, but I believe all females can be divided into either a B or a V.

Betty Me
-Guys noticed me... ALWAYS. Something about blonde makes guys turn their heads. Even if they don't want to, blonde is like kryptonite for men. They need to look. They have no choice.
-Girls gave me A LOT of dirty looks. And strangely enough I now find brunette me giving other blondes dirty looks. Maybe were just angry that they are getting all the male attention.
-No one took me seriously. EVER. As a blonde I always had to prove my smarts. Stupid until proven otherwise.
-I acted more.... innocent. Not that I was pretending to be something I was not, but I found that the cute, coy version of me tended to emerge without me wanting it to.


Veronica Me
-Guys rarely notice me. I blend in amongst a sea of other brunettes. I'm finding myself wearing a lot of bright colours in order to try to stand out. If you see a girl plastered in pink sequence and sparkle you may have just found me.
-Girls tend to be taking more of a liking to me. I'm no longer the platinum princess ready to steal the men away. I'm just another brunette.
-People take me way more seriously. I look serious. I look business. I look BAD ASS.
-People treating me more bad ass is affecting my personality. Whether concious or subconcious I have been transforming into a bolder, sexier, dominating vixen version of myself... and I like it. Innocent is a thing of the past.


So basically the pros and cons of being a Betty seem to match those of being a Veronica. With one very important exception. I was getting onto a city bus the other day when I realized I was standing right next to a date-gone-wrong from last year. I'm not joking, he was only a few steps away. But he looked me right in the eye, and without a glint of recognition, he walked on by. I realized that because I was a blonde for so many years, my new 'do is proving to be a disguise for all my ex-lovers.


So after much consideration about changing my hair back, I have decided that I will stay as Veronica a little longer. I can now confidently walk down the streets without any worry of an awkward run-in with an ex. So all the single Betty's out there, watch out. Cause Veronica is here to stay.

Foul Ball

So after another round of particularly disappointing dates, with particularly disappointing men, I thought I would rant in a different way today. Brace yourselves... it's a poem.

"Foul Ball"


Ninety-nine dates
And you'd think that I'd learn
Guys don't want you passive,
But don't want you stern.


No all that they want
Is a piece of eye candy,
Who can also tell jokes
And with a hammer be handy.


But even those things
Won't please every man -
In bed they want to hold you down,
But in public they won't hold your hand.


I've tried distant but in an instant
They decide I'm a bitch.
I've tried open and being hopin'
They won't decide I've got a glitch.


Cause a man only wants
What a man cannot have,
All the men always crave
A girl who's treating them bad.


So I'm done with this game
And I'm throwing in the towel.
Cause this thing we call 'dating'
Is a game that's just foul.


----------------------------------


I think this whole dating process has started making me a tad jaded, no?


Next post back to prose. Promise!

The Princess & The Pea-nis

We're all familiar with the old fairy-tale story of the Princess and the Pea. In order to discover if the girl was truly a princess, a pea was hidden in her bed to see if she would feel it. Well, she did, and she bitched and moaned about how the teeny pea hurt her poor back. Well I'd like to tell that little princess: at least it wasn't a big, hard penis poking into her backside.


A few weeks ago I met a cute boy at the bar. Yes, I know, the bar isn't where I am going to meet Mr. Right, but it was a good place to meet Mr. Right Now. So Tyson and I got to chatting and he invited me home. When we got back to his apartment I was not only impressed by how immaculately clean his place was, but by his lovely king-sized, duvet-covered bed. I instantly fell in love with Tyson's bed and was even more delighted by his black-out blinds. The fact that there was no construction happening outside his window at 7am, like there was on my street for the previous week, was an added bonus. So even though the fooling around was only mediocre, I decided he had earned himself another date.

Unfortunately, the second date make-out was no better. The intended movie we rented was left unseen as Tyson sloppily kissed me and pried at my jeans, eager to get me into his bed. I was equally eager to get into his bed, but for a very different reason. I had not had a decent night's sleep with the damn construction on my street. While I thought I could dismiss Ty's attempts to seduce me, he was ever persistent and was literally spooning me with his hard penis jamming into my back all night. I don't know if this guy popped a Viagra before I arrived, but I swear to God it did not go flaccid for 8 hours straight.

The next morning, instead of feeling restful and happy to awake to quiet darkness, I awoke to a pain in my backside... literally. So maybe I was a princess for trying to use a guy for his bed, but I endured a hell of a lot more than a teeny pea as my punishment.

The Bold & The Beautiful

For my sixteenth birthday my parents sent me to stay with a French family in Marseilles for two weeks. On the flight over there was a delay in Paris and I ended up chatting with a lady from California sitting beside me. As we were talking I noticed a cute teenage boy who kept staring at me. Even when I caught him in the act, he held my gaze. So I told the lady beside me that I was going to go over to say hi. She smiled at me and said "My, aren't we the bold and the beautiful..."

I strolled across the Paris airport, said hello in some broken French and sat down. His name was Yoanne and we ended up switching seats to sit together on the plane, and he kissed me and whispered "Je t'aime" in my ear the whole flight to Marseilles. We wrote love letters back and forth for a while until, eventually, things fizzled out.

Now it is ten years later and I've sometimes wondered where that bold and beautiful young girl went. A few long term relationships and I feel like I have somehow lost that ability to approach strangers with confidence. Maybe I've gotten jaded or maybe just more insecure. But I have been feeling like I need to return to my previously bold ways.

The other day I was working a marketing gig and getting random people to answer questions for a TV show. I had the perfect opportunity to start conversations with complete strangers. So when an extremely cute guy came towards me I jumped on the chance to talk to him. I got him to sign his waiver and sent him to the cameras. I told the on set make-up artist that I wished there was a way for me to go on a date with him. She told me to just go for it. So in the spirit of turning 26 and bringing my bold back, I made my move.

When he was done his short interview I awkwardly approached him and asked if he was single. He said yes. So I told him I thought he was very handsome and seemed really sweet and how I don't come across that many handsome, sweet guys. I asked if he would want to go on a date sometime, and once again he said yes. We exchanged numbers and he left me standing there bewildered but proud for doing what so many of us 20-somethings always think about doing, but we talk ourselves out of.

Maybe he and I will never go on a date. Maybe we will but it will fizzle out. But I know that I am putting myself out there. I am once again the bold and beautiful girl I was before. It only took me ten years to get it back, but damn does it feel good.