hello, I love you
Note to the woman walking east on Division wearing a hot-pink off the shoulder T-shirt, an extremely tight, transparent white skirt, and black thong underwear: No.
So far, that has been my only trauma today.
Every week, I must read every single personal ad in the Reader. It is a sick and wrong obsession of mine, the happily married girl who nonetheless must read every personal ad in the Reader. I'm astounded at how many people are looking for very specific “types,” and have all sorts of restrictive personal characteristics that their beloved must possess.
I've learned not to believe in types. Oh sure, there are certain physical appearances that I like, in theory, but I've dated/been attracted to/kicked it with (see! I've moved on from “chickenhead” to yet more hipster lingo!) enough exceptions to the rule that it turns out, for me at least, that there is no rule. If you like someone, they become your type. That said, it can be an interesting personal exercise to compile one's own list of deal-breakers. What sort of person would you never date/be attracted to/kick it with?
I would never date people who describe themselves as beautiful, pretty, handsome, or good-looking. Even if you are beautiful, pretty, handsome, or good-looking, that is not for you to say. It's surprising how many personal ads include this language.
I would never date a man who got regular manicures, had an awful lot of hair care products (I can't put a number on it, it's a subjective thing), or wore a digital watch. Well, I may be able to make an exception for a digital watch, but a calculator watch? Forget it.
I would never date people who didn’t like to travel. Not having had the time, money, or opportunity is fine. Having literally no interest in seeing the world is not.
And that's about it, really. I'm picky, but I'm not able to boil people down (ha! I shall boil you!) to physical characteristics or quirks or even interests. Basically I respect anyone who knows their shit. Even if your shit is utterly foreign or boring to me (eg, medieval illuminated manuscripts, Fermat's Last Theorem, the mysteries of the internal combustion engine, Unix code), if you know it inside and out and get excited talking about it, I will think that is cool.
And I'm not sure why I even natter on about this, because it hardly matters now, does it? But into my brain and out onto Diaryland, that's my motto.
Note: that's not really my motto. My actual motto is Dance, Little Monkey! Dance!
In lieu of being interesting, useful, or funny today, I will link one of my current favorite things: Broken Koans. Scroll down an unspecified fraction of the way to get to them.