Me Kicking Down an AOL Chat Room Door in 1998:
‘Looking for a tall, lanky nerd, preferably witty, quiet…’
::Crickets Ensue…::
I always wondered what type of man I’d end up with.
I’ve dated a rainbow of body types, eye colors, varying levels of hirsute.
I don’t think I have a ‘type.’
Because if I had to tell you in some detail about my ideal man I would say...sort of dry sense of humor, definitely funny but not...loud about it, smart, introspective, deep, wanting to know ME deeply, very slow to anger if ever getting there at all, attractive to ME, hopefully somewhat taller, present, someone with a libido just a bit higher than mine so I feel WANTED...but not a crazy amount that makes me feel like I'm not enough…
Like who does someone like me end up with? Some loud, strong guy who crashes into things and protects me from things I don't need protection from? A super quiet guy but the wrong type of quiet because he actually doesn't know who he is and has nothing good to say…?
I still haven’t found this apparently chemically-impossible balance in a single human being.
Or when I do, or they find me, inevitably they are wearing a ring on their left hand.
I’m a happy girl, peaceful girl, just by default. Tend to truly enjoy spending time in my own skin and company, would have been a very happy only child, we’ll leave out the part where I talk to myself a lot, sometimes we get into petty arguments but we always make up after we have a good laugh about it.
Haven’t enjoyed breakfast since the 6th grade when I started swallowing gum around mid-morning in a futile attempt to quell a growling stomach, horrified at the prospect of a burst appendix (isn’t that where gum ends up?) but willing to sacrifice an unnecessary body part for dignity.
If I’m not at my work desk pulling my hair out talking 84-year-old real estate agents renewing their licenses through how to login to their continuing education courses you can find me outside in a zero gravity chair, one arm bent behind my head, sunglasses on, smoking a cigarette lazily, one leg pulled up, sipping lemonade and staring at the starlings passing overhead. Bikini? Probably, I have too many. Coconut oil? If I remembered, but I only care about getting those frontal tan lines. You know the ones.
I do very lazy resistance training a few times a day, love to make up dance routines in my bedroom mirror that no one but ‘him’ will ever see, and that’s after a few drinks and a lot of coaxing…in knee high socks, boyshorts and skimpy things…
I’m youthful and attribute it to never getting married or having children. Not entirely sure if I can conceive and at this age I have no interest in procreating, just all the practicing I can possibly muster. Youthful yet wise, because when you go around the block a few times you remember the landmarks.
Working on self-improvement, oh what does THAT mean? That means I’ve deep-dived personality types and I am INFJ, which graces about 2% of the population. I’m a highly sensitive person and that means something that most gloss over. I’m Highly…Sensitive. To a look, tone, lights, sounds, if you sneak up behind me and scare me I may cry because of my startling response. I love stimuli, Dragon’s Blood/Fizzy Pop incense, galaxy lights, fairy lights, dark curtains, warm blankets (I’m always cold), naps, color in my wardrobe, comfort…in my wardrobe, beauty, tasty food and very trashy Bravo TV shows. Currently dealing with Vanderpump Rules and it’s … taking a toll.
Also looking into attachment styles and mine is ‘Anxious.’ No apologies, working on moving that to ‘Secure.’ I’m a very present person, I like being told in specific ways that I’m beautiful, appreciated, seen, heard, understood. I am compassionate, I love my Dad. We speak several times a day through email and facebook, he just recently moved to an apartment from where I grew up and was born 46 years ago. Since Mom passed away in August he’s very lonely and we haven’t always gotten along so I’m thrilled to be able to keep him company and assure him that things are going to be ok.
I’m thoughtful, I learn people’s favorite things by paying attention to their reactions and filing it away, I’m a decent cook, I remember names and dates. I’m an excellent researcher, reader and detective if I need to be. I’d love to be more nurturing but there’s only me to care for if I fall ill. I love dogs and children tend to gravitate towards me at parties and between us I prefer their company over that of the adults present.
Just … growing tired of smoking out of bedroom windows at 2am in lingerie, staring up at only stars that love me, all of this juicy, ripe woman going to waste while I reach…reach to love someone who can see me, touch me, feel me without fingers, see all of my flaws and still want to watch me smoke out that window with those eyes of his, waiting for me to get back under the covers so he can love me again before morning.