Monthly Archives: March 2012

by

Top tips to get you asked out by teenagers

I’m a twenty-seven year old gal who’s had more teenagers (or those freshly out of their teens) ask her out in the past six years years than, well, the entire time I spent as a teenager.

Now, in the sake of full disclosure, I was a pretty unfortunate looking person for a good chunk of my adolescent years – but even after I got hot as hell, I was still the one making the first move at the beginning of my relationships.

(This, I’m sure, is because people were so amazed by my overall transformation, that they were unsure as to whether or not I was the same person they used to know.)

I kid.

Kind of.

For serious, had I not had ovaries the size of basketballs, I would still be languishing in a sea of unrequited crushes, being tossed about by white-capped waves of sexual frustration.

I was a champ at asking people out (the two times I did it.)

Now, since I wrote earlier this week about how a twenty year old boy asked me out on skytrain last Saturday night, I’ve had quite a few friends ask me what exactly it is that I am doing to have this be a semi-regular occurrence in my life.

I didn’t have a coherent, non-self-deprecating answer at the ready, so over the past few days I’ve given this query some thought, and think I may come up with a probable (but perhaps totally erroneous)  hypothesis.

However, in the spirit of science, I’m forging ahead.

Ladies and gentleman, (but really ladies, because, well, I am one of you) may I present: 

Top tips to get you asked out by teenagers*.

*or those in their early twenties.

1.)    Ride public transit. Ride public transit all the live long day. Not once or twice a week – we’re talking multiple times a day here (and weekends too). Teenagers, for the most part, don’t have a ton of money, so if they need to go anywhere, they take the bus, or the skytrain, or subway, or streetcar, or what have you.

Duh, duh, duh, another rides the bus...

I ride transit all the damn time, so it’s inevitable that I’ll find myself sitting next to someone whom I could have babysat ten years ago, had I not  instead chosen the high school career of Safeway cashier. And because of this inevitability, it is in fact unavoidable that at some point one of them will strike up a conversation with me, and before I know it – BAM!

They want to take you me out to coffee (at bloody 7:45 in the morning.)

2.)    Wear quite a bit of colourful clothing. I notice more and more just how varied in hue and tone my wardrobe is compared to most of the other people who work down town. When I exit the train every morning, and the station is flooded by a stream of black, grey and brown, I am the bright red life boat, carried along by the push and pull of the tide.

1 coat, 2 coat, red coat...

I don’t necessary think that it’s my clothing per say that’s getting me asked out, but since I’m not afraid to experiment with, and wear a ton of colour – in addition to taking different risks with my outfits (wearing traditional mens clothing, and mixing formal with casual pieces) – my style seems to attract a younger demographic.

Teenagers in general like to make comment on my choice in clothing and, or colour palette.

Animal print and stripes.

Then they want to take me out to coffee to talk more about my fashion sense.

3.)    Read science fiction and/or fantasy books. My only caveat being – please, please for the love of pete, read good science fiction and/ or fantasy. None of this Sword of Truth/Sword of Shannara bullshazzle.

That will get you disqualified right out of the gate.

(However you’ll gain ten points if you read your sci-fi books on the bus.)

But to get back on topic: teenagers always want to talk me up about the books that I’m reading, but particularly if they are of these two genres. They want to talk to me about A Song of Ice and Fire (even back before it got all HBO-ed and coolified); they want to talk to me about Terry Pratchett; they want to talk to me about Richard Matheson. (Okay, so that last one’s more horror that anything else, but we’ll have to let that slide.)

Even Mr. Penguin wants to talk about Game of Thrones.

They want to talk to me about books and then take me out to coffee to talk about books some more.

4.)    Laugh to yourself. Whether you’re walking down the street, riding transit (seriously, RIDE IT!), sitting in a coffee shop, or waiting in line at the grocery store, be so completely lost in your own thoughts that you bust up your own gut like a busting thing.

I love to laugh. ALL THE TIME.

Older people will think your completely bonkers (and rightfully so) but teenagers want to know what’s so funny.

And they’ll want to take you out for coffee.

5.)    Quote the crap out of movies and TV shows. I was on transit once (did I mention that you should probably ride transit?), talking on my mobile, TO MY HUSBAND when I said, “that’s, just like, uh, your opinion…man” and the fella sitting to my right, spoke up literally, the second that I  hung up, wanting to talk more about the Big Lebowski (aka re-enact the whole movie for the remainder of our ride.)

And then he wanted to go to a coffee shop, to re-enact our re-enactment – just in case we missed a part!

Yowzers.

He was pretty surprised when I declined, citing the fact that I was, you know, a married woman.

Which brings me to my last point:

6.)    Wear a wedding ring. First, teenagers don’t look for wedding rings, so they are basically a moot point. Second, the longer I remain married, the more teenagers ask me out. And third, most of the teenagers who’ve asked me out haven’t cared when I told them that I am forever removed from the dating scene.

Ring around the rosie...

They all want to convince me of the reasons why I should no longer be married.

Over coffee, of course.

So there you have it ladies – six, very simple tips on how to increase the number of your youthful suitors.

But, let me finish off by saying this. Don’t wait around for someone else to make the first move. If you like somebody, go-go-gopher it.

It’s always better to know, and heck, if they like you back? Well, there’s no better feeling in the world.

Seriously, I’ll tell you more about it.

Tea anyone?

by

The feminine critique

Much has been written about Miss Universe Canada’s decision to remove Jenna Talackova from the Miss Universe Canada Competition.

According to the organization, Ms. Talackova was barred from competing because, “She did not meet the requirements to compete despite having stated otherwise on her entry form.”

You see, in order to qualify as a Miss Universe Canada contestant, individuals must be:

• a Canadian citizen

• between the age of 18 and 27

• neither pregnant nor married

• a “natural born” female (also a requirement of every other Miss Universe pageant).

Natural born females, eh? Sounds like an Oliver Stone production that never made it past the drawing board.

Now, the absurdity of these rules isn’t the main reason I am writing this post.

That I believe Ms. Talackova should be able to compete in the pageant is a truth – not only does she identify as a women (and has since the age of four) but legally (like – BY LAW PEOPLE) she is a woman.

Period. (No pun intended.)

Hence, she should qualify.

The fact of the matter remains that we, as a society, are missing the much bigger problem at hand.

The real issue is the fact that we’re living in the twenty-first century and beauty pageants are things that actually still exist.

I don’t know if I can think of anything more ridiculous, antiquated and painfully sexist that marching a bunch of women across a stage and marking them on how well they model a bikini.

Or evening gown.

And don’t even get me on those events that try to promote some level of “legitimacy” because they have a talent component.

You’re going to tell me that some washed up NBA star, or some hate-mongering gossip columnist is going to be able to (competently!) judge between a Mozart-penned aria and a baton twirling routine? A Schubert fugue in A minor and a rhythmic gymnastics programme?

Give me a break. No, give me all the breaks.

To me, the choice to include a talent section and then market the event as progressive is basically akin to the organizers trying to frame their competition as the Diet Coke of beauty pageants.

Let’s call it “sexism lite.”

But it’s not like they’re any better than the original product (which would be Coke, or “sexism original” if you will.)

Both are still responsible for reinforcing highly destructive, prescriptive, and dangerous gender norms.

Or, to go back to the drink analogy – having some kind of special skill component in your competition might spare you from contracting diabetes, but don’t kid yourself, you’re still going to develop that brain tumor.

I mean come on. At the root of it, both propagate the socially accepted, (nay institutionalized) notion that all woman everywhere must first and foremost be judged on the way they look.

Good thing because goodness knows that’s a movement that needs all the help it can get.

For more information please see:

I am of the mind that we should just make it so that no women EVER are allowed to enter these contests.

Because then, finally, we could add them to that special collection in our planet’s attic (you know that trash bag labelled “what the hell where we thinking?”) along with Lysol douching products, lead based makeup (which I’m actually afraid isn’t so much a thing of the past), and shoulder pads.

Another reason why I loathe these competitions is the (always brutal) question and answer component of the evening.

The women stand there in their bedazzled gowns, smiling as if their lives depended on it, calculating how they will be able to answer a question without really, you know, answering the question.

It’s like a bloody political debate all of a sudden appears and sets up shop on stage. Afraid of alienating voters, the contestants must find creative ways of filling up their allotted thirty seconds by not really saying anything.

And as such, none of the contestants ever give a real, heartfelt response.

This, I imagine, is in part due to the fact that they know that 1.) Unfortunately, the majority of the audience has no interest is what they really think, 2.) should they go out on a limb and speak their mind, the chance that this choice would come back and bite them is huge (both during the competition, or throughout their careers post-pageant, and 3.) the rule of the game is please everyone, so try your best not to rock the boat, and just give an answer that is non-threatening and easy to digest.

Now, I take great issue with all of these points. But just thinking about number three makes me feel like tearing out my hair and setting fire to my entire wardrobe.

Because, these notions of having an opinion, but not being pushy about it; about pleasing others before yourself; of not rocking the boat with your convictions; about worrying about how others will perceive you and your ideas (and how they could impact your career) – these are behavioral mechanisms force fed to women, all around the world, all day, every day.

And to see them glamorized, (and celebrated!) on a local, provincial, national, international stage – well, that just demoralizes the heck out of me.

We should be celebrating actions over aesthetics; convictions and passions over rhetoric and clichés.

In the end, wanting world peace isn’t wrong.

But a system that dictates that one need qualify this want by looking good in bathing suit and providing proof of their “natural femininity” on national television IS wrong.

A competition that buys into this system and (dangerously) sells itself as some kind of measuring stick for femininity IS wrong.

And I know that as of this moment, I am really ready for something that is right.