the good; the bad; the... bad.

(Originally written Feb. 6, 2010)

Today, The Boy (with his darling little Yorkshire slur) requested a blog of his very own; one detailing, in depth, a topic we have been amusing ourselves with since we first began speaking to each other. From the comfort of his bed, self-rolled cigarette hanging from his mouth, my blue-eyed Brit cheekily ask, “Dahlin’, why don’t you write about why British men are better than Canadian men?”And because I am a woman; predictably unable to deny his precious drawl and the giggle I hear when one of us brings this up, I am obliging. This post is not a roasting of all men living in Canada and loving a Canadian woman. It is, however, a roasting of the stereotypes I have personally encountered, both myself and through my girlfriends, during my years spent dating on a tiny island in the Atlantic. For that reason alone, there will not be an apology post following.

#1: Girls, we have ruined the men here with our willingness to ‘pay separate’ each and every time we go out for dinner. In my twenty five years on earth, I’ve only had one man pay for my meal at a restaurant prior to dating The Boy; it was chicken fingers and fries at a sports bar, and it cost 10.00. We are expected to cover at least our share on most of the outings we find ourselves taking part in, so it seems. In England, I encountered the exact opposite; a look of absolute horror and insult was directed my way if I attempted to put my hand into my purse following dinner. I found in odd, and was slightly uncomfortable allowing when The Boy would pay for things, though he assures me I will get used to it. Still, I don’t think anything will ever humor me more than his face upon visiting Canada for the first time, and being asked my a waitress, “Will that be separate?”

#2: Where I presently reside (thankfully for only another couple of weeks), the men I meet seem to have a common goal: top unemployment. It is an honor amongst men to find yourself a seasonal job that will lay you off in the winter, allowing you countless hours to try out being a starving artist, or plenty of time to get high and drive around on your snowmobile. Some of the men I’ve dated have gone so far as to move thousands of miles away from here simply to take part in the bliss of living off of the government. As a woman, finding one of these rocket scientists is the jackpot - he makes $1400.00 a month by sitting on his ass, which is plenty more than you will make yourself in most positions. While visiting my cousin (and meeting my boyfriend) overseas, I sat through a conversation that astonished me. “If my job became redundant, I’d work in fast food before I’d ever go on the dole. It’s a pride thing. Sure, some people need it, but I am able-bodied and can work, and I am providing for my family.” Yes, ladies. I felt like my brain was a puddle as well. Work… Pride… Provide… those words were so very foreign to me before visiting another country. Now I find myself snickering at a recent Facebook post I saw, from a man in my town to a recently single woman: “yo, i just got my EI check, wanna go on a date?”

#3: It takes men in this country YEARS, it seems, to decide they don’t want to marry you. Or do, though that is a rare occurrence, and you must have done something drastic to make that happen. A good portion of my friends are in relationships exceeding 3 and 4 years, without any sign of long-term commitment from their men. They longingly look at wedding dresses on the internet “for other people”, spend each and every special occasion silently praying that a high-cut, yellow diamond is going to stare them in the face. Hell, I have a friend who told her boyfriend he could buy her a $14.00 ring from AVON and she’d be satisfied. Still, in all of these situations, dreams are shattered when the boys literally flee the scene… or cry… you get the point. Either way, marriage terrifies the men around here. I teased The Boy about the same ring 6 months into our relationship. His response? “Can’t I buy you a real one that just… looks like the AVON one, if you like it so much?”. Getting married and settling down young doesn’t seem to be quite as huge of an ordeal for them; it’s as simple a thought as, “I could go for another Carling. It would be rude not to.”

#4. Cooking in this province is woman’s work; then again, so is shoveling, and cleaning… and every single chore you can think of that does not involve lying horizontally on a couch. The men I’ve lived with, dated, and even a vast majority of my male friends, are the laziest species I have ever seen. They’ve spent their lives being coddled by mother’s who have done us, their wives and girlfriends, zero favors. My mother, after a full day of work, comes home and shovels the snow in our driveway. Then she goes into the kitchen to make supper for her husband (who has been home, on the couch, all day), and her son (who is 16, and have been home for hours before she arrived). If remaining on my tiny island were in my future, I would be practicing my gear changing skills on a snow-blower for the next storm.

Thank god for immigration. That is all I can really say.