Get Your Eggs Out of My Basket

Originally published on It’s Date Night

I’ve heard this dating advice many times over the last few years – “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”

I can’t say I’ve followed this advice religiously, or at all for that matter. When I meet someone I like, I like them and only them. I’m kind of like a bug. If the men in my life are a bunch of glowing lights, I go for the shiniest one and he’s got my full attention. 

I put all my eggs in one basket you could say. His basket.

This keeps biting me in the ass. 

Another problem has arisen since that terrible mercury retrograde we went through in February. Even though nothing has panned out [clearly still single]they keep lingering. It’s like I still have a few egg shells out there that I haven’t collected.

Now they’re the bugs. Annoying ones that keep buzzing around my periphery. 

I’m partially to blame for this.  Whenever I get a brazilian wax I tend to make bad decisions. [Don’t judge me, I know I’m not the only one.] My new year’s resolution was to not sleep with any assholes. Then it came time for my next wax. 

Two days after the fact I had failed my 2015 promise to myself and brought one of them back into the mix. Self-restraint? What’s that?

Then there’s this guy I dated last year for awhile. I keep randomly hearing from him. Maybe he thinks it’s nice of him to “check in”. I know better – His check in’s are usually in between his spurts on Tinder.

And then there’s Carlton. 

There’s a common sentiment that exists within my friend circle. “Poor Carlton.”

Now, I definitely don’t like being pitied, and there’s really no reason for us to feel pity for Carlton either. He’s smart, sexy, tall, kind, etc, etc. There would have been some definite perks to dating him. My mother would have been very excited if I had brought him home for Easter this weekend. 

Except I wasn’t into him. I tried, but the elusive spark was not there. After a month of dating I realized that I had put him in the friend zone and as much as I tried to convince myself that continuing to see him was a good idea, I knew doing so wasn’t fair to him, or to myself. 

And unfortunately, he was one of those guys who just wasn’t getting the hint.  

In fact, I can’t even call it hinting. I was very straight and clear with him, multiple times.

Initial break up text: “I don’t see this going any further for me.”

Two weeks later: “No I don’t think going for wine is a good idea.”

Four weeks later: “No Carlton I don’t want to sleep with you. Yes, I realize you mean friends-with-benefits but I don’t want that either.”

Then the final straw. I was very excited when I found out that he had gone on a couple of dates with a girl I knew. When I heard from him again I asked him about it. “I heard you went on a few dates with Hannah! She’s great!” 

He must have taken my inquiry as jealousy. 

His response: “What, did you think I was going to put all my eggs in one basket with you?”


Yes I actually texted him that and yes I still heard from him a few months later offering to take me for dinner. 

So here’s what I’ve learned. Sometimes we put our eggs in people’s baskets too soon. Sometimes they still have one of our eggs even when they shouldn’t. And sometimes you get eggs put into your basket that you really don’t want but if the other person won’t take it back, there’s not much you can do about it. 

Part of my spring cleaning is going to involve organizing my egg collection if you will. 

Happy Easter everyone! The hunt continues.


Girlfriend Zone: The Grey Area

Published on It’s Date Night

“Katie, I think he thinks I’m his girlfriend.”

Like it or not, if you live with me, you’re going to become someones girlfriend. I’m sort of like Good Luck Chuck. Except if I remember correctly he had to sleep with a girl in order for her to find true love. That’s not the case here, I assure you.

Before you start lining up to be my next roommate I should put a disclaimer on this.

*These relationships don’t necessarily last. So far I’m 4 for 4, but only one past roommate is with the same guy and my current roommates situation is yet to be determined. It’s in the grey area. 

My absolute favorite and least favorite part of dating is when you don’t know where it’s going. I love it because it’s thrilling and exciting and you spend most of your time day dreaming about seeing them again/taking their pants off. 

I hate it for the same reason I love it: Like I said, you don’t know where it’s going.

A friend recently asked me, “I have a toothbrush at his place – what does this mean??”

“That you care about your oral hygiene?”

Obviously it means more than that in our girl brains. A tooth brush is not just a tooth brush. I even think something of it when my girlfriends leave toothbrushes at my apartment. It’s like our relationship has reached new heights. You are officially one of my people.

I’m gonna make the assumption that if there are oral hygiene products being left places, you are slowly but surely leaving the grey area that we all love and hate so much.

Other pieces of evidence I personally watch for: men’s hoodies, his favorite beer in my fridge, and extra lint rollers. 

Let me explain.

I am reluctant to sleep in a guys oversized university hoodie unless I think it’s going somewhere. It’s like forehead kisses. There’s something mushy and relationship-y about it.

Beer in the fridge is an obvious one. It means we have established our drinking buddy dynamic and the relationship is off to a good start.

Extra lint rollers is a big one because while I don’t really care about kitten fur on my lululemon leggings, I do care about kitten fur on his jeans. It’s sort of like how you’ll clean up your apartment when you have people coming over but if it’s just you, you’re fine to let the dust and wine bottles collect.

One time my cat threw up on a guys pants that had been laying on the floor beside my bed. This, and the fact that I didn’t own a lint roller at the time, were very clear indicators that the relationship was doomed.

Things are changing in my world. I have extra lint rollers laying around and I’m sleeping in a men’s hoodie.

Here’s what I’m realizing. The grey area is either one of two things; amazing, or torture. If it feels good, you don’t listen to any dating rules or the plethora of advice that we’re bombarded with all of the time.

But if it feels like torture you’ll start clinging to the rules, steps, and advice you think will land you what you really want. [To get your butt out of that grey area.]

“Follow these 12 rules and you’ll find lasting happiness.”

“7 steps to nailing the relationship you want.”

“Don’t do x,y and z or you’ll come across as bat shit crazy.”

“But do a, b and c and he’ll fall madly in love with you.”

Usually all of these recipes for success and happiness just cloud my brain and my own intuition. Which, as the universe keeps reminding me over and over and over again, never fails me. I just ignore it sometimes. 


If the grey area feels sticky and stressful and hard, it’s probably because it’s not right, and you probably already know it.

Whereas if the grey area feels fun and light and easy, you can’t really fuck up and you don’t mind sitting in it. If it’s right, it’s just gonna work. You can be completely uncool and he’s still going to leave his toothbrush at your place, give you a hoodie to sleep in, and think your drunk sloppy self is adorable. Remember this?

He can kiss you on the forehead and you won’t freak out because you both know there really isn’t much of a grey area to begin with. 

What I’ve suspected all along might actually be true. There are no rules and there is no recipe.

Boston Pizza

Written February 2015

Apparently Mercury is in retrograde. I don’t really know what that means but based on my research (my friends + google) weird shit happens and your intuition is heightened.

So I had an upcoming date that I was really excited for. Re: my last blog post. Via text and FaceTime I hit it off with this guy. I know – you can’t really say you’ve hit it off with someone you haven’t met, but in the land of Tinder FaceTiming felt like a big step. Not to mention we had been talking for three weeks and nothing he had said sent any red flags up for me. I had a good feeling about him. He said he had a good feeling about me.

[Lesson: Don’t believe anything anyone says to you]

Because of his work and my impromptu girls trip to Phoenix/Vegas [blog coming soon] we couldn’t get together until this weekend.

Date night rolls around.

For no logical reason I had some serious anxiety late in the afternoon. My intuition, thanks to Mercury I guess, was screaming at me. I just had a bad feeling. My heart was pounding and I felt exactly how I felt when I realized that I had been stood up last spring by camping guy.

Negative energy. Bad vibes. Impending doom.

I texted a couple of my friends and told them about my bad feeling. Obviously they all told me I was being irrational.

“You’re being crazy.”

“He’s been so excited to meet you this whole time – tonight is going to be great! Relax.”

“He is NOT going to stand you up. That’s already happened to you – twice. You can’t have that bad of luck.”

Etc, etc.

I get a text from him around 6:00pm.

“Finally got back into town. Drinking at Boston Pizza tho lol”

First of all what’s with the ‘lol’? Nothing about that is funny. It’s actually quite sad. I should have told him to fuck off right then and there but I’m too nice, so I played along for awhile.

He tells me, “We can still go on our date but I might be a little tipsy. I’ll need to cab it.”

[again, fuck you]

I asked if he still wanted to get dinner.


Then I gave him a chance to stop bullshitting me. “I was really looking forward to tonight, but if you don’t want to go you can just say so.”


Everyone I’ve told this story to has had the same reaction: Who gets drunk at Boston Pizza????


I will not even attempt to understand or ask why. All I know is that this was the last straw. Everything I said in my last blog post I take back. Don’t download Tinder – ever. I am no longer a supporter of online dating or dating at all for that matter. (We all know this isn’t true. I love love. I just need to let myself be angry about this for a day or so)

So I went out for dinner with my friends instead. Things started looking up when I saw that double mojitios were on special.

A couple hours later while dancing around my friends penthouse to yes, Taylor Swift, a charm on my necklace fell off, unbeknownst to me. This necklace was a birthday gift from a couple of years ago. The charm that fell off said: believe in love.

I must have been in the washroom or maybe just in my own world because I missed my friends finding it on the floor, reading it, pondering whether to give it back to me, and then coming to the conclusion to throw it off the balcony.

That’s a metaphor if I’ve ever seen one.

Klara admitted to me in the morning that it was she who chucked the charm into oblivion.

She felt bad. I laughed. It was too perfect.

I’m not sure if it was before or after the destruction of the love charm when I sent my Tinder flake one last message: “I hope Boston Pizza treated you well. And I hope next time you try and convince some girl what a gentleman you are you remember what a coward you were in this situation. Thanks for wasting my time.” Followed my two emojis: a passive aggressive thumbs up and a pizza slice. [Jill’s brilliant idea].

Pizza emoji. Take that asshole.

Other strange occurrences since Mercury has been in retrograde include me hearing about a strangely high number of break ups and a very unexpected blast from the past.

Guess who texted me last night?

No, not “Come over” guy though it’s been a week so I should be expecting a text soon.

Camping guy – the first guy to ever stand me up. He picked a bad time to ask me what was new.

Cut it out Mercury. The irony is that I’m sitting on my bed writing this wearing an oversized t-shirt that says “Love Is In The Air”

No. No it is not.

How To Never Get Laid And/Or Find A Girlfriend

Published on It’s Date Night

Brought to you by my friends Steven and Ty

Valentines weekend had the potential to turn into a successful double date getaway to Banff. My girlfriend and I decided to drive to the mountains last minute and meet one of her coworkers and his friend visiting from Ontario.

It was going to be a standard Banff Saturday night; Grizzly House, hotel pre-drinks, Aurora, Dancing Sasquatch, McDonald’s.

And possibly even Valentines Day brunch at the Banff Springs in the morning.

But alas, the boys failed miserably at whatever it was they were trying to achieve. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say their goal was sex…based on this hotel room conversation at 3:00 am:

“Ty why are you pouting?”

“I’m fine.”

“No Tyler – you’re obviously upset about something. Do you regret not getting McDonalds?”

Slouched over in bed he tells me, “I’m not mad that you didn’t have sex with me; I’m just mad that nobody did.”

There I was, consoling a thirty one year old male who I may or may not have mistakenly made out with 5 hours prior because nobody wanted to have sex with him.

Another Valentines Day for the books.

I felt sorry for the guys. Not because they didn’t get laid, but because they seemingly had no clue as to why their behavior produced those results. Or rather, no results.

But I can definitely tell you what happened.

For reference, a backhanded compliment is an insult disguised as a compliment. Usually a person will recognize when they’ve delivered one of these by accident. Both parties will have a chuckle as one person says, “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Or sometimes a guy will give a girl a backhanded compliment on purpose to get her attention and undermine her self confidence. Neil Strauss, author of The Game, calls this “negging”. It’s like the adult version of teasing the girl you had a crush on in elementary school. For example, one guy I was seeing for a little while told me, “You’re a 6.5/7.” He explained his completely superficial 7 point rating system that included legs, hair, eyes, breasts, etc, etc. Not a bad rating [that’s the compliment part] but he obviously got my attention with the 0.5 point loss.

“You lose half a point because you kind of sound like a little mouse.” [There’s the insult meant to shock me, cut me down a little, and then cause me to want his approval. It’s a mean little trick.]

Ya – he was a dick. But that was a perfect example of negging. He knew what he was doing.

Steven and Ty did not know what they were doing. Zero game. And zero apologies for their accidental insults.

One way to not get laid? Unintentional backhanded compliments followed by no recognition makes you look both inconsiderate and unintelligent. And this is what Steven and Ty did. All. Night. Long.


When we arrived in Banff we met the guys at Earls for double mojitos.

Steven to Julia: “You look better with glasses on.”

Ty to Julia: “You’re prettier than I remember.”

They sure know how to make a girl feel beautiful.

Then we all went to the Grizzly House for fondue where I’m sure we disturbed the couples around us with our completely inappropriate conversation topics.

Ty to Katie: “You have big boobs but you’re trying to hide them in that dress. Can I see?”


“I just want to see what you bring to the table.”

Are you kidding me? This guy is 31 years old.

Later on in Aurora we were all on the dance floor. Incase you’ve never been to this night club let me give you some context: It’s very dark in there.

Ty to Katie: “You look amazing in this lighting”

It’s DARK in here Ty. Was that supposed to make me feel pretty??

By the time we arrived at Dancing Sasquatch Julia and I were almost ready to call it a night [probably because we felt ugly]. Things turned around when we met a bachelor party inside. Our “valentines dates” pouted in the corner until we decided it was time for chicken mcnuggets and cheese burgers.

Julia met an attractive Australian outside of McDonald’s and made out with him (obviously). The whole way home the guys whined and bitched about “Australians” and how “You girls could go home with anyone you wanted” followed by “Can we cuddle when we get back?”


Don’t get me wrong. These two were hilarious and really fun to spend a Saturday night with in Banff. [Ok, mostly they were just fun to make fun of] But never in my wildest dreams would I date either of them.

I’m not sure what was worse; the backhanded compliments, the fact that they didn’t recognize how insulting they were being, or the pouting.

Needless to say we skipped out on Valentines Brunch. Julia and I put on our glasses and went to Starbucks by ourselves where the lighting was dark and moody so I’m sure we looked amazing.

What’s the greatest/worst back handed compliment you’ve ever received? I’d love to hear. If anything, you might make Steven and Ty not look so bad.

Best of luck to them both.

Respect the Phase Out

“What kind of girl, busy or not, texts this little? Screw you too.”

That was the response I got after I sent my latest version of the “I’m flattered BUT…” text. (I edited his response for spelling and grammar)

I put my phone down. “Well guys-he didn’t take that very well.”

In defense, I’m not a big texter. Ask my best friends. But I admit I was avoiding the guy… A string of really eager text messages were giving me the creeps. When I say I’m busy this weekend it means I’m busy this weekend. Please don’t question how many hours I’m working on a Sunday and insist on picking me up from work.

But anyways here’s how I got told “Screw you” this week:

For the first time ever I got asked out by a guy in public where no alcohol was involved.

“Do you have a minute? Are you single?”

Um, yes.

“This might be weird but I saw you walk by and thought you were really cute and was wondering if I could get your phone number?”

I really appreciated his boldness! And I definitely didn’t want to discourage him from being that confident in the future. He was cute, polite, kind of nervous…So I said yes. And I was even planning on going on a date with him until he questioned my busy-ness and then proceeded to text me 5 times in a row asking why I hadn’t responded.

I thought about never texting him again.

But I really appreciate honesty and felt sort of guilty for leaving the guy hanging, so I sent a polite yet straight message back explaining that I was flattered and thought more guys should do what he had done, but that I wasn’t interested in meeting up anymore.

Maybe I deserved to be told to screw off. I don’t know. But here’s my question: Would you rather be given the honest truth, or would you rather be phased out?

When I showed my neighbor Janine the string of text messages I had from him and my few responses she thought I had been pretty clear. “Dude. Respect the phase out.”

But I’m a believer in the truth setting you free! One time, many years ago, I sent my ex boyfriend a really sincere apology. I let that guy love me for way too long knowing that deep down I didn’t feel the same. And so I told him so in more or less words.

At first he was f*cking pissed to say the least.

But, less than 24 hours later, he thanked me for my honesty. He knew that it must have been hard for me to say those things but now that he knew the whole truth he could actually let me go.

See? Truth=freedom.

But I have more questions. What are the rules around this form of honesty being in person versus writing? How long do you have to date someone for before you can’t get away with an “it’s not you it’s me” text?

Because not that long ago I sent a guy I was dating a message explaining that I didn’t see things going any further for me blah blah blah blah…. And he responded so well!

He appreciated my text message so much that he even recycled it.

Shortly after me he was seeing a girl for 1.5 weeks when he decided that he didn’t want to date her. So he literally copied and pasted what I had said to him and sent it to her.


That didn’t go over very well.

Apparently there is another blogess out there who occasionally writes about boys and breakups. My ex took me out for dinner last week (See? Truth=freedom=friendship) and showed me this girls post about him.

Sure enough there were my break-up words verbatim.

“Wow, you literally didn’t change a word eh?”

“Nope!” he said cheerfully. “Your message was perfect; polite but straight. I got the point.”

This girls blog went on and on about how inconsiderate he had been; her main point, as it seemed to me, was that she REALLY didn’t like that he had said those things over text.

So sometimes we like honesty, but only if it’s delivered in person. And other times we’d rather not have honesty, just a string of text messages that slowly die.

Breakup etiquette. Yet another set of rules I don’t understand. What would you rather? Honesty or phase out?

Choose your poison. Chances are neither will go down good.

Tinder Statistics

Originally published on It’s Date Night

I’m kind of a yes person so I’m not half bad at getting other people to say yes to things they don’t really want to do, like say, download Tinder.

I’ve decided that 2015 will be a Tinder-free year. So why would I swear it off but still convince my girlfriends that it’s worth a shot? Let me tell you.

Why I Love Tinder:

One could say that this app has failed me, but I choose to see the silver lining in everything. For starters, I received an overwhelming amount of blog material from my experiences. I also met a handful of guys that I actually liked which was a big deal because my mother was starting to say, “What’s wrong with you? You don’t like ANYONE.”

It’s the easiest quickest most ridiculous way to start dating again.

Here are my statistics:

From October 2013 to present I have met 10 different men from Tinder.

* I dated 50% of them. Dated meaning I hung out with them for at least a month.

* 8/10 were nice human beings for the most part.

* 2/10 probably just wanted sex.

* 2/10 were fucking crazy.

One made that clear right away. See here.

The other only recently made me aware that I probably dodged a bullet. Sidenote: I don’t like the term “crazy” and I only use it on the most deserving of people. It makes me mad when men refer to other women as ‘crazy’. Just because she has EMOTIONS and probably drunk dialed you a few times after you broke her heart doesn’t mean she’s mental. It just means she’s human and has feelings. Also, it pisses me off how men’s exes are either classified as “crazy” or “sluts”. Grow up, or at least add a few more words to your vocabulary.

* 2/10 were really nice guys they just made me yawn and I couldn’t wait to go home and tidy my bedroom. That’s how little chemistry there was.

Those aren’t bad odds!

Remember that time I got stood up by the guy I was seeing and then got angry and drunk and impulsively downloaded eHarmony? Not my proudest moment. I’ll one day tell my children [probably fur babies] that all of these questionable decisions were for research purposes only.

Anyways I found something interesting: I’d say at least half of the guys that I matched with on eHarmony I also came across on Tinder. Proof that this shallow app isn’t just full of shallow people. If someone is willing to pay for online dating and take the time to fill out that ridiculously long survey, they’re serious about finding love. They’re like farmer Chris on the Bachelor kind of serious.

Reasons Why I Hate Tinder:

1. The whole idea of it is absurd. And it gives those promiscuous assholes easy access to nice girls like my friends who just want a free way to start meeting people and date again.

2. I always feel terrible about myself when I’ve wasted 45 minutes of my morning swiping right or left and judging men on their looks and/or grammar.

3. When I’m older and still madly in love with my man and we’re both still super hot and someone asks, “How did you two meet?” I REALLY don’t want to say “Tinder.”

When I started this blog a little while ago I had proudly stated that 2015 was going to be a tinder-free year.

Less than two weeks in I have failed.

Last Sunday afternoon I was hungover and bored and redownloaded it for the 11th time. Surprisingly, right away I matched with this hilarious 6’3 ginger who I’m actually excited to meet.

Even if you meet someone in “real life” you take a chance. They could be your future boyfriend. They could be your future ex boyfriend. You could end up hating them. Personally, I always look at it like this: Either this is going to be awesome or I’ll have another story to write about.

I’m going to leave you with three of my most fond memories brought to you by Tinder.

1. I’m sitting across from Bachelor #9. We hung out a couple more times after I sent him my skillfully crafted “I don’t see this going any further for me” text. We were chatting and I told him that he had spoiled me when we were dating. He argues that he didn’t. “I just brought you food all of the time.”

I playfully responded, “Oh ___, you know the way to my heart.”

Head hanging he says, “Obviously I don’t Katie.”


2. Why Bachelor #8 became part of my 2/10 crazy statistic:

This sums up our communication post dating:

“Come over.” No. “Wanna bang?” No. “Wanna get naked?” Sure, I’ve had a stressful morning. “Come over.” No. “I hate you.” “Come over.” No. “I want a girlfriend in 2015.” Stop booty calling me then. “Nice knowing ya.” “Come over.”No. “I’m done with you.” “Come over.” No. “You offer nothing.” I feel like coming over this time. “No-delete my number”. FINE.

Can you just make up your mind please?

3. And 1st place still goes to Bachelor #3 who invited me to go camping with his friends, never showed up to get me, and thought it was appropriate to text me 4 months later to see if I wanted to grab coffee or a glass of wine.

Happy swiping. May the odds be ever in your favor.