The type.

My mom says I’ve picked up strays since I was three years old. First, it started with worms. I would find a worm on the sidewalk and felt bad that there were no little wormy friends around to keep it company…and in my shoebox filled with dirt it went (and it would promptly die in 2 days). Then, I moved on to dogs, cats and bunnies. As I reached my twenties, my fascination with strays quickly diverted from worms to people…mostly men…fixer uppers..a different kind of worm. “But, they have potential!” Famous last words. Luckily, I learned rather quickly that this was a guaranteed detour to heartache and distrust and have since moved on to bigger and better things…like being single! But, it made me think…is the “bad boy fixer upper” my “TYPE?” Puff.
I effing hope not. Most girls are attracted to this type. Rough around the edges and soft and warm like a cookie outta the oven when you’re all alone snuggled up on a couch. Usually, the soft ooshy gooshyness of this tough guy cookie becomes a hard, concretesque, blob of douchebag who breaks your heart. So, in recent years, months, I’ve decided…I need to…change…my…type. Granted, not every guy I’ve been attracted to has been a total a-hole, but it’s like they have a honing device and can find me and sucker punch me and BAM, I’m hooked!Puff.
I’ve know girls who want the geek.Lovvvve the geek. Clark Kent…who turns into Superman once the lights go down! Reoooow! But then, once they have the geek, do they wish that they would be the tough guy if some guy gives you a tough time at a club? Do they want said geek to become a puffer fish himself and explode into a vengeful wrath of fury and protect his woman!? Puff.
Are we ever fully satisfied!?
We want the guy who will dance at a wedding, but split another dudes lip if he needs to. The guy who can practically recite Catcher in the Rye (or at least knows what it is!), but can mount our TV because he owns every tool on earth. The guy who will buy us tampons and then change the oil in our car…god bless dirty “I work for a living” hands!Puff.
Someone recently said to me that girls want men to go to work and make the money and be the “big man of the house” and then go home and put on an apron and “get in touch with their feelings.” He promptly then said that this concept was bullshit. Puff. We can’t have it all for one human being, but luckily we have friends who fill those gaps that said manpiece doesn’t quite fulfill.
For instance….take a dear friend of mine. Married to the “perfect guy.” He has a great job, great family and they all play trivia on the weekends. However, when they sit at a table together, the only thing perfect is the oven roasted chicken between them. They barely…even…like…each other. But he is her “type” and she is his. They look faneffingtastic on paper and most people think they are the quintessential couple. The problem is… neither one is the others type in reality. While she loves to hike, he likes to play video games. While she watched HGTV, he watches porn. But by golly, they look smokin hot in their wedding pictures! Such a “perfect” couple. Puff.

So once upon a time, we all created the perfect mate, but maybe if we just open our eyes a little more to the important things like love, respect and loyalty and look for those things instead of the “good on paper” bull…then maybe having a “type” doesn’t matter so much. And please, don’t let your daughters play with worms. Depuff.

A Table for Puff

Welcome to the world of singledom. Table for one…uno…two minus one…one plus zero…so…lo! Sure being single has its perks, but the “let’s get back into the dating pool” world totally, 100%...blows! Yesterday I was told that I’m naïve for believing that real love actually exists and that one can be in a relationship without cheating. I’m sorry, did I miss the memo that people have turned into complete dbags in the past 5 years!? Puff. So with those thoughts in my back pocket, I reluctantly accepted an offer to go “grab a drink.” Now, stop me if I’m wrong, but typically on a first date, if you’re asked by the dude, should maybe, partially be planned? Oh no, not this charmer…Not only did I have to pick the place, but I had to pick the time, what HE drank, and had to tell him what was acceptable to wear! I didn’t even have my hair dyer on before I was ready to bail. Puff.
So Prince Charming shows up in his lame Mustang…clearly an extension of what he may be ehhh hemm…lacking annnd not to mention my least favorite car of all time…. and as I’m watching this tall piece of hotness get out of his car, it happened…he grabs his red solo cup from the console and there, right in front of me…a huge, black, nasty wad of chew came spewing from his mouth into the cup! Retreattttt, Rettttreeeat!!! Oh God, it’s too late, he’s already seen me…if this dude even remotely thinks I’m kissing him goodnight he is sorely mistaken. I’ll more likely be checking to see if his lower gums are even intact! Barf! Puff.
45 minutes,17 yawns (on his part), one bud light, one glass of wine and a $13.00 tab later… I sat there wanting to morph to anywhere else but there, and finally it was over. I sat in my car for a minute and thought to myself, “Is this as good as it effing gets!?” Has dating become so casual that it’s OKAY to not expect chivalry and even some decency!?Puff. I gave said dbag a one armed hug and promptly drove home.In my quest of not settling I suddenly felt empowered and realized that no, indeed I am NOT naïve. I have every right to believe that there’s a “good one” out there for me and that the guy won’t cheat…or dip. I I curled up on my couch in my snowflake pajamas and thought to myself, that wine bar was really great, but next time, I’ll take a table for one. Depuff.