Why I No Longer Crave ‘Bad Boys’

WhyAll it took was a chance meeting and a three-month relationship packed full of trouble to realize that the temptation that is the ‘bad boy’ no longer held the same charm for me. That heady pull and dangerous attraction I once felt was now replaced with a sense of appreciation for a true ‘good guy’ instead.

So here’s my story…

I’ve always been a ‘good girl’ who has, time and time again, found myself instinctively attracted to ‘good guys’. Yes, I really did mean to say ‘good guys’ – LOL. I know… it’s rare, right? A self-proclaimed ‘good girl’… looking for a ‘good guy’…? It’s like an anomaly or something. It’s definitely not the typical stereotype that’s out there in society to date. That’s for sure.

It always seems to me that my girlfriends are drawn naturally to the ‘bad boy’. And the shadier the character, the better too. Rationality clearly does not play a part into this type of decision, so this kind of lust must manifest on a deeper level somehow.

Our North American culture often perpetuates this stereotype with books, movies, and music dedicated to the subject. These outlets often paint a girl’s obsession with ‘bad boys’ as fun or exciting instead of troublesome, as these relationships can be.

Occasionally, I would find myself out with my girlfriends and I would wonder what the hell these girls – these quality girls – were thinking. They repeatedly chose men that lied, cheated, disrespected, and maybe even abused. It never seemed right to me and I always gently gave my opinion, but was careful not to cross any lines. I did my best to avoid this type of relationship and kept my eyes open to the typical signs as much as possible.

That’s not to say that I’ve never dated a ‘bad boy’ myself, because I definitely have. One relationship in particular jumps into the fore-front of my mind every time I think about this topic. It’s probably because he looked just about as ‘bad boy’ as they come and he had the attitude to match.

I met Ryan* while driving home in my car one Summer day (I was in my 20’s at the time). He was SO amazingly good-looking (oh yes, he really was – sigh) I just HAD to pass him my phone number through the window. I could barely believe it when he actually called me later that day and asked me out on a date. I was in heaven and couldn’t wait to meet him again the next day.

Right away, it was obvious. He was a REAL ‘bad boy’ and counter to that, I was acting like a doped up Lil puppet and I couldn’t even stop myself. I found it completely impossible to form a single thought of my own around him. It was like I was high off his energy or something. I was so entranced by his looks and charm, I had become a starry-eyed zombie. Just like those girls. It was absolute craziness.

Basically, it would take me a week to type out all of the trouble he got me into over the course of our relationship. It was that much. Instead, I’m just going to list some of his worst offences below to give you an idea of the kind of guy I’m talking about.

• On our first date, he stole a wallet from a gas station bathroom and used the funds to pay for our dinner. I should’ve known there was a problem right there, but I continued on anyways because he was so captivating. Somehow, he managed to make me believe it was fateful instead of illegal, so I accepted this behavior, when I shouldn’t have. I felt really bad about it later, too.

• My friends disliked him immediately and he was not helping things by being an arrogant dick, chugging their liquor, and magically getting me to do things I never would’ve done in a million years. He even hit on other girls in front of me without a reaction. My friends could see his disrespect and my disregard, so they hated him for it.

• He ran up and over a car in a campground, denting the hood and roof, and causing thousands of dollars in damage. I did not think this was very cool, either. To make matters worse, he was arrested for doing it right in front of most of my family. Oh yea, it was the first time they met him too. Family vacations can be very entertaining at times like this. -eyeroll- Most of my family hated him after this.

• He yelled at my sister and drove like a maniac in my car (I let him because I was unable to say no to him at all). At one point, his driving got so bad, my sister was screaming and thrashing about in the back seat trying to get him to stop. I was afraid, but still mesmerized, so I just remained silent. Then he sped us through a construction zone (almost hitting a worker and causing many others to jump out-of-the-way). This lead to a registered letter threatening legal action and now my sister hated him too (we were only reprimanded in the end and he was not allowed to drive my car anymore).

After alienating all my friends and my family, I was still unbelievably enamored with him and was completely under his control. Things were starting to cave in from all directions now and I was constantly defending him to everybody. It was strange that I still couldn’t see the problem clearly.

Now some of this will be embarrassing to admit, but it’s all true, so I’m going to continue to the end no matter how painful it might be to recall…

One night after all of that, I invited about 50 of my closest friends over for a house party. Ryan is with me (despite the groans of my friends) and not even an hour into it, he’s pissed drunk and starts acting like an asshole in front of everyone (what else is new?).

It’s still really early and things haven’t even begun to get good but Ryan starts demanding that I take him to bed because he’s already done. I was quite upset about this departure (as were my invited guests), but I went downstairs to bed with him anyways because I was still all caught up on him.

We start getting frisky before going to sleep and it’s not long before I start grinding away in the girl-on-top position. Honestly, I was enjoying myself quite a bit and everything seemed ok, but things were about to take a turn that I wasn’t expecting.

With my eyes closed, I’m trying every trick in the book to seal this deal for him and suddenly, out of nowhere, I hear something strange. Snoring. Loud snoring too.

No… it couldn’t be… No…

But it was. OMG! Quickly, I opened my eyes and looked. Yep. He had fallen asleep.

Now, I’ve had enough accolades in my life to maintain my confidence when it comes to my sexual prowess. That was the least of my worries. Instead, all the trouble he had caused and everything I had put up with came flooding to the surface all at once. Instantly making me furious.

I realized that I had enough of his shit and suddenly, I was fuming. I was so angry, I actually beat on his chest with my fist and yelled at him, but he was in such a deep sleep, it didn’t even wake him.

Note: This was not the first time I had noticed that it was impossible to wake him up. Once before that, we had fallen asleep with my arm trapped beneath him. It took me over an hour of screaming and fighting with his dead-asleep body to get it back and he never woke up the whole time. This was nothing new for Ryan.

Anyways, I digress. He’s fast asleep and I’m pissed off, so I did the only thing I knew would make me happy in this situation. I went straight into the bathroom, got my shaving supplies, and went back into the bedroom. Without remorse, I proceeded to get even by shaving all his pubic hair off.

Ahhhhh… That felt better. Then I went back upstairs and partied until late into the night with my friends (who thought this was awesome).

Now I don’t usually advocate any ‘getting even’ technique. It’s a childish thing to do in most cases and may even contribute to retaliation and/or a dangerous situation. Please do not take this advice to heart. I just mention it because it’s true to the story, what I did caused no real damage, and (in this instance) it worked like a charm.

In the morning he never did ask me about it at all and I didn’t offer the information either. I was in a great mood but he was uncharacteristically quiet and he left as soon as he woke up. LOL. I’m not sure if he had an idea about what happened to his once thick pubic mane or not, but I really could have cared less. I assumed that he was probably very confused and embarrassed about it, but he didn’t have the guts to ask. So I didn’t tell.

Finally, my obsession with this ‘bad boy’ was over. Bigger than that, I found my attraction for all bad boys was gone. Just like that. I no longer saw them as a good-looking movie-character type of bad-asses. Instead, I saw assholes who would never treat me right instead.

Needless to say, I broke it off with him shortly thereafter. Our relationship had just become too much trouble and I could no longer support his bad behavior. My friends and family could sigh with relief. I had finally seen the light.

It became painfully obvious to me that I’d much prefer a guy on the ‘straight and narrow’ to a true ‘bad boy’. Never again did I secretly pine away for a guy with a mischievous glint in his eye. I had been through this experience and was not going to repeat that exchange no matter what. Because of him, I no longer craved the ‘bad boy’ lifestyle and was left with a new appreciation for the ‘good guy’. Instead. 🙂

So now I wanna know about you. Do you find yourself falling for the same jerk over and over? Or do you like the good guy too? Let me know. I’m always happy to hear from you.

*Name changed to protect his identity/anonymity


Why I Love Being the Road Manager for a Rock Band

WhyHave you ever wanted to know what it would be like to be on tour with an up and coming rock band? Well, I’m a lucky one who happened to be in the right place at the right time, so for me, it was meant to be. It was the most challenging time of my life and yet somehow, through all the sacrifice and frustration, I found an inner strength that helped get me through to the end.

There are many stories about being a Road Manager that I could write (some I can’t because they’d be too risqué for this blog – hehehe), but today I’m just going to focus on the beginning of the first tour. This was the very first experience I ever had with being a roadie, I made a mountain of mistakes, and everything that could’ve gone wrong, did. It was amazing that way.

It was about ten years ago now, when five young and edgy band members (who had garnered a lot of attention for themselves) piled into a large van with the band Manager and myself. It was the middle of the night, so we were all tired as hell, but we took off with cheers and huge amounts of optimism about all the good things to come while we were out on the road.

Now while I won’t say exactly who the band is (a girl has just got to keep an air of mystery sometimes), I will say that their Jim Morrison look-a-like lead singer and cheeky song lyrics made them stand out in every city we visited.

Our first stop was supposed to be in Camrose, Alberta because we had made arrangements to be attending Stage 13. In case you’ve not heard about it, Stage 13 was a huge Rock festival which (at the time), hosted up to 30,000 fans over four days. The festival boasted bands like Our Lady Peace, Theory of a Deadman, and Everclear, to name just a few.

I’m not sure if the festival still exists today, but the lack of information on the internet leads me to believe it’s no longer running. Anyways, there was a film crew preparing for us in town because the band was being followed for a documentary and we heard the city was full of drunken half-naked twenty-somethings, so we couldn’t wait to get there and begin our adventure!!

Driving to our destination turned out to be trickier than expected, though. We were about 4 hours away and I’m behind the wheel , eagerly bombing down the highway. I gotta say, we were all singing cheerfully at the time, when out of nowhere, we hear a loud ‘BANG!!’ The van suddenly jerks, and the trailer behind us gives a groan of distress at the same time. Shit… I had no choice but to pull over.

Now, if you’ve not managed a rock band for yourself, you’ll not truly appreciate the intense frustration of having five young men shouting excitedly at you on the side of a strange highway, but I have to say; it was extremely loud and maddeningly chaotic. It took a crazy amount of effort to work out the logistics of it all. We were thrown completely off course and had no choice but to think of a way out of it, so that’s what we did.

A mind-blowing six hours later, I find myself separated from the group while I wait with our towed van and trailer at a local Canadian Tire. Because we all spent the previous evening packing and loading, I was exhausted and was napping in the sun on the open pavement in the parking lot (you do a ton of ‘strange sleeping’ while on tour, by the way, so it was ok). That’s when I’m finally picked up by the band in our two new rental cars.

We hooked up the trailer to our larger vehicle, said goodbye to the totaled old van (yep, a flying timing belt killed it for good), and we had no choice but to spend the night in Calgary instead. Dying for sleep and knowing we had a big day ahead of us the next day, the managers are going straight to bed, but the band guys still have a job to do, so they were heading out on the town.

Since we were due to come back to in a few days for a gig anyways, the band chose to go over to Cowboys Bar to gain some attention for their upcoming show. From the moment they stepped in, people were clearly noticing them. Their rock vibe was huge and there was a big buzz all around. There were tons of girls throwing themselves on the band members right away and (I think) this was the particular catalyst to what happened next.

Not even two hours into my sleep, we get a panicked call from the bass player who was talking so fast, he wasn’t making much sense. We knew immediately that something was wrong but we could only make out that there had been some kind of accident. Panicked and flying on adrenaline, we got up and rushed over to the bar to find out what was really going on.

When we get there, we find out that it was so much worse than we ever even imagined. Apparently, there was a group of local guys who just couldn’t handle the level of attention the band was receiving, so they started a very serious fight with the band in the parking lot.

Things had escalated so quickly, that these local hoods took their effing belts off and used them to whip at the band leaving large welts all over each of their backs, arms, and legs. The lead singer was bleeding quite profusely from the head and there were puffy, black eyes coming up for sure. The band was caught off guard and unprepared for this kind attack. It was a real mess.

The Cowboys’ security team finally managed to get our band safely back inside and away from further threat, but the local crazies were still out in the parking lot raging around and causing a scene. At some point, these assholes called their friends who eventually came in multiple vehicles , wielding bats and machetes. Yep. You heard me right. Bats and machetes, belts and maglites… That’s about the time when their fun with our rental car began.

Now, due to a police incident in another part of town, they were unable to respond to the bands 911 call for just over two hours. This left these local idiots alone to damage our rental car for as long as they wanted. It was effing insane!

Basically, they smashed everything. And I mean EVERYTHING! What was a brand new car sat in front of me like a giant wrinkled raisin and I just knew it was over. TOTALLED, no question, by a group of local weapon wielding jackasses!!! I couldn’t believe my eyes! Baseball bat sticking out from the windshield, spray paint on what was left of the ‘carcass’, it was the second vehicle we managed to total in less than 24 hours. Damn!!!

After a long, weary night recounting the events over and over for the police and our rental car company, a wounded band and their exhausted entourage head to Denny’s for a pancake breakfast. Once again we have received a new rental vehicle and are dying to get to Camrose to begin the documentary at Stage 13.

Sidenote: None of us had slept yet and the guys were in rough shape, so we were all starting to get pretty silly, but the mood was surprisingly excitable and we were eager to keep moving on despite it all.

Finally arriving at the festival, we were dying to get to our reserved camping spot and our passes into the festival and filming areas. Excitable and yet slightly grumpy, we were speaking with one of the organizers at the entrance gate when we get the news that the producer of the show failed to make the proper arrangements. To add insult to injury, the camping in the area was all sold out, so this meant that we now had no place to stay and no way to get into the area with the film crew either.

There couldn’t have been a bigger disappointment to us ever. Now we’ve got to get back on the phones and figure out what went wrong and how to fix it. Scouring the city for hotels turned into a nightmare itself because everything was booked solid for weeks before we even got there.

We ended up having to drive 45 minutes out of the city to find a campground we could stay at and it didn’t even have running water. It had a well with a handle to pump and a hole in the ground for a bathroom instead. All I’m going to say about this is, “I’m no survivor, ok? I’m a luxury camping in heels kind of girl!” so this would normally not work for me at all.

At this point though, none of us had slept in 48 hours or more, the guys were bruised and battered, and we were desperate as hell, so we set up camp and (for the first time) relaxed just a little before finally collapsing to sleep.

The day after all these crazy things happened, it seemed as if the band’s notoriety had kicked up notch. All of a sudden, everyone was buzzing about our story and it was unexpectedly creating all kinds of opportunity for us. Things turned around on a dime and the next day I found myself with a backstage pass to the restricted zone at Stage 13. Yay!! The documentary crew caught up with us and the band now had a great story to tell, so it was starting to feel as if the air was alive with electricity. Finally we were shining like stars once again. THANK GOD!

Because of these experiences, we were noticed by a very influential rock music mogul who attended our show the next night, but that’s another story for another time. I’ve only talked about the first two days on tour and I still had another 3 weeks to go. With each venue that passed, our story got crazier and more incredible. I can’t deny it. Tornadoes; lost drunken band members; impromptu gigs in the middle of the Rockies; communal showers; and getting kicked out of hotels are just a slice of the highlights I could touch upon coming up.

Looking back, I can see that surviving the challenges of this job was extremely difficult, but it was a huge learning experience. It was something I found that I was able to handle because I was stronger than I expected myself to be. I surprised myself. 🙂

Because of that, I will never forget any of these road memories I have. The worse things got, the sweeter the reward that followed. It was amazing! It kept me on my toes and forced me to push forward even when I felt like giving up. It was a real test of character that provided me with a new level of confidence in my abilities through the face of adversity. Wow.

Upon reflection, I guess I was pretty lucky after all. 🙂

Do you believe that bad things happen for good reason sometimes? I’d love to hear from you.

Taboo Raindrops – Why I Love The Rain


What would you do if faced with a bad weather forecast containing heavy rain?

Love it or hate it, the falling rain can be as sexy and fun as it is wet and miserable. I learned this first hand growing up in a city that boasts twice as much rainfall as London, with an average of 161 days of the wet stuff per year. The “temperate rain forest” that is Vancouver, British Columbia has ingrained in me a unique fondness for rainy days that when expressed out loud, has my friends wrinkling their noses at me with disbelief.

All too often in polite small talk, I hear people chatting away about the weather. Openly conspiring against the rain; despising the rain; even crying over the ruined plans and inconvenience of it all. Sometimes they speak as if a few raindrops are an impending death sentence or something. Like the world is collapsing at an alarming rate and all will not be right again until the sunshine comes out and saves the day.

Would you sympathize with their bitter disappointment upon hearing that there is nothing but “periods of rain” for the foreseeable future? Not me! And that’s for sure!

Instead, my friends and family are regularly subjected to endless discussions detailing exactly what I love about the rain. Sometimes, they even have to deal with me forcing them to go outside (with or without an umbrella) to take a deep breath or two on the most fragrant of rainy afternoons.

Now please don’t get me wrong. I still feel for all the couples who planned their outdoor wedding only to be forced to move it inside Grandma’s house at the last minute instead. I can empathize with anyone whose travel or holiday plans have been delayed, cancelled, or ruined because of a freak thunderstorm. And I most certainly understand the gravity of a heavy flooding situation and what it takes to clean up after a natural disaster like that (been there, done that).

The rain can be very powerful and so a little advance preparedness goes a long way with smoothing things out. For me, I almost always choose to look on the brighter side of things instead. The silver lining, if you will.

Much to the groans and eye rolls of my loved ones; when faced with a typical rainy day, I regularly go on and on about the rain. With an excitement that is only matched while attending an amusement park, you can frequently catch me saying things like:

• “O-M-G, I LOVE the rain!!!”
• “It’s a perfectly gloomy day today!”
• “Ooooh… big fat raindrops!!- my favourite!!!”
• “Feel the misty rain between your palms — it’s incredible!”
• “Ahhhhhh, the sound of the rain on the windows is SO relaxing!!”
• “Mmmmmmn, the rain freshens up all the flowers! It smells SO delicious!!!”
• And, “Seriously, you gotta get out here and smell this!!!”

My love of the rain started when I was a little child who loved to read. Nothing was more relaxing or exciting to me as curling up in a rainstorm with a great cup of hot chocolate and a good book. Reading for hours at a time while listening to the soothing sounds of nature’s tears cascading upon my window became a regular habit. It created a place for me to let go and slip away from the world. Almost like meditation. Silently, I would hope for a perfectly gloomy day. I would be really happy about a bad weather forecast while everyone else was sighing, sulking, and wishing for something brighter and cheerier instead.

It wasn’t until I was older that I realized the power and passion the rain could actually bring and I began to see that there is a sexy side to the rain as well.

About three years ago, I found myself about to embark on a camping trip with a new boyfriend who was (at the time) a tenting virgin. Low and behold, the forecast was calling for rain – and plenty of it. So, I’m watching the news channel like a hawk and praying for a change, only to finally have to give into the fact that it was just going to be wet and sloppy no matter what.

Because I am a camping maniac, I had weathered a storm while camping before and I was scared to death that my new boyfriend would turn into a whining, complaining, soggy, jerk much like how most people would react if they were put in that situation.

It didn’t even take us an hour upon arrival and I had already learned that this boyfriend was definitely going to be a keeper. Instead of bitching and complaining about the terrible weather, he did the unexpected and left me with just about the hottest memory any girl could ever have.

All around us, people were hiding in their tents; nobody seemed overly prepared for the unexpected rain and some were even packing up and leaving it was so bad. That’s when my boyfriend asked for my largest tarp and he ripped off his shirt and began to string up a cover for our tent and table. He had never done this before and the trees were sparse so I could tell it was trying his patience, but he held it together admirably. I have to say, in fact, that we were the only ones all weekend who were able to eat outside because of the great job he did.

Because of the almost disastrous rain on that trip, I will never forget two things from that weekend. The first is the way my new boyfriend looked with his muscles rippling away and water droplets washing over him as he put that tarp up without so much as a grunt. He looked so amazing with determination written on his face and not a single word of complaint. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with him right then at that moment.

The second would be the mesmerizing sound of the rain falling on our tent every night while we slept. It was like a symphony of toned droplets and with each one that fell, it created a romantic soundtrack to what could have been a nightmare trip instead. Looking back, I don’t think there could have been a better song to my ears.

So I guess my point to all this is: Love the rain or hate the rain, if you live in a temperate rain forest, you will have to deal with it one way or another. My suggestion would be to try to embrace natures amazing drops as much as possible and make the best out of any soggy situation.

Complaining and whining changes little, but enjoying the rain for what it is might just even make things better than expected. What attitude will you take next time you’re caught out in a perfect gloom?