Life Lessons from Jessica Simpson

I look back on my mom’s sage advice, and although I chose not to take some of it (to mixed results), I know that it is coming from a credible source. That woman is pretty darn smart.

So that got me thinking about the girls who are being raised by the doofuses of the world. Jessica Simpson, for instance. One day, if it’s in the cards, Jessica Simpson will have children. And maybe one or more of these children will be vertically-challenged, large chested mini-me’s.

One can only imagine the wisdom she will impart on these kids. I think one of the easiest ways to raise my future children is to make sure they understand that they need to do the exact opposite of whatever Jessica Simpson does. Basically, W.W.J.S.N.D. (What Would Jessica Simpson Not Do). That way, they at least have a chance in this world.

Here’s what I would tell them:

“Don’t ever give too much information away.”

Jessica Simpson, or “JS,” is the poster child of TMI. From showcasing her entire marriage on a reality TV show to tweeting pictures of her making out with her super tall ex-athlete guy, this girl does not understand privacy. Many people aren’t aware that I’m a fiercely private person. There is a line, and it isn’t even that fine, that dictates what people need to know and what needs to be kept close to the vest. Keep some things personal and private. I’ve learned by trial and error what to say and what not to say, and the easiest thing is to not say anything at all. You won’t be seeing any photos on my Twitter of me making out with anybody, no matter how good looking they are.

“Have good style.”

I don’t understand how somebody with a staff of stylists managed to emerge in public in those jeans and not get tackled on her way to the stage. First of all, what were those jeans doing in her wardrobe? Someone played a cruel trick. Basically, I’ll leave the younger generation with this: just have style, be classy, don’t look like an idiot.

“If your ex gets engaged to his long-time girlfriend, don’t try to one-up him and get engaged to your boyfriend of five months.”

Basically, you look like a jealous weirdo if you run out and get engaged to a guy you barely know immediately after news breaks of your ex moving on with his life. Taking something like an engagement as seriously as you take your selection of handbag to go with today’s outfit is a recipe for disaster.

“Being referred to as ‘sexual napalm’ by a rockstar who let you shack up on his tour bus for a little while is not a compliment.”

Make sure you aren’t in a situation where someone shows how little they respect you by humiliating you in a very public forum. I felt terrible for JS when the guy with the enormous head, John Mayer, said these things about her in Playboy last year. Yes, guys can be real a-holes. But there is something to be said about not putting yourself in a position for someone to say these things about you.

“Don’t only go for the hot quarterback.”

Great guys come in all shapes, sizes, colors, demographics… the list could go on. When you date the same hot guy over and over, and find yourself single over and over, something is wrong. It’s great to have a “type” and an idea of what you want. You have to be attracted to this person. But don’t pass over an otherwise amazing guy because maybe he isn’t tall enough or maybe his hair is thinning a bit on top, or maybe he isn’t loaded with cash money. Everyone deserves a fair chance. The less attractive guys I have dated have treated me a hell of a lot better than the super hot guys I have dated. “Men who are too good looking are never good in bed because they never had to be.” -Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City

“Smart is sexy. Don’t act like an idiot.”

Some girls think that guys want them to be ditzy. These girls are real idiots, and the guys who want this are true douches. If someone wants you to be less than your highest potential, why would you even consider spending another second with them? JS has the ditzy act down pat. No telling if she is truly this dumb, or if it is an act. Either way, not a good way to be. Some of my favorite JS quotes:

“You’ve done a nice job decorating the White House.” when she met the Secretary of the Interior Gale Norton

“Is this chicken, what I have, or is this fish? I know it’s tuna, but it says ‘Chicken by the Sea.’” (the world will never forget this)

“On my first day of Jr. High I was in Geography class, and the teacher asked us if anybody knew the names of the continents. And I was sooo excited. I was like, Damnit! It’s my first day of 7th grade, Im in jr high and i know this answer. So i raised my hand I was the first one and I said A-E-I-O-U!” (Okay. I may have only made an 1130 on my SAT, but when I was in 7th grade, I was well aware that we had continents and could even name them all. I believe I learned that in 2nd or 3rd grade, and we’re talking about Alabama public schools here.)

“Twenty-three is old. It’s almost 25, which is like almost mid-20s.”

Finally, “Be humble.”

There is nothing wrong with knowing that you are amazing, one-of-a-kind, fierce, intelligent, and deserving of nothing less than the best. However, once you cross that line of knowing that you are awesome to the max to pompous, you’re in big trouble. Nothing turns people off faster than body odor and being so arrogant that you are looking into cloning yourself. JS once said, “All I have to say is: Jessica Simpson is the most beautiful woman on the planet!” Wow.

JS has done a lot of good things in her life to help others, and that certainly needs to be applauded. However, her acts of good will are overshadowed by the dumb things she says and does. Maybe maturity will come with age (although she is nearly 31…). All we can do is cross our fingers for her and hope that our children proudly wear their W.W.J.S.N.D. bracelets. Yeah, I said it, I would make those for my kids. Nothing wrong with a constant reminder of what not to do if you want a good shot at amazingness.

Crush Into Me

You know that feeling when you can’t wipe the goofy grin off your face? The same feeling that keeps you up at night, thinking nonstop happy thoughts. The same feeling that causes you to check your phone, your email, your facebook, your twitter, etc. ten more times within the hour just in case something new has come in.

That’s right, my friend. You have a crush on someone.




Crush. That sneaky devil that comes out of nowhere, blindsiding you and rendering you unaware of your surroundings, much like a meteor shower or Bieber Fever. In my 28 (and holding…) years, I have fallen victim to the crush too many times to count. It’s interesting to me how someone can be your friend and then poof! a switch flips and all of a sudden you can imagine yourself with that person. I mean, with that person. Sometimes a good brunch date is all it takes for you to realize that there is some actual romantic potential in this person. Sometimes alcohol is involved. I’m just trying to look at it from all sides here.

But isn’t it fun? The giddy feeling when your heart skips a little beat. I love getting texts, calls, emails, whatever, from him because it tells me that I crossed his mind, even for second. I would like to think that I’m crossing his mind and parking it there, the way that he is doing in my mind. But beggars can’t be choosers. Even one little text can make my day.

It’s really fun at first, and then it will go one of two ways: either the whole deal comes to fruition and you end up with something good or the other person simply doesn’t feel the same way about you and you find yourself clinking glasses with your best friend, muttering things like “He wasn’t that great” or “I’m way too good for him.” It’s how we make ourselves feel better. Who knew it would be this hard to lose someone you never actually had?

It’s scary for me to tell someone how I feel about them. It is even scarier to think of what they might say back. I remember when I was younger we would all get together at sleepovers and warn each other to NEVER tell a boy that you like him because he will RUN! I took that to heart, and was proven right many times over. But as we get older, is this still true? I know that if I’m remotely interested in someone, I love to hear that they have a crush on me. Sometimes it jump starts me and I find myself liking them in return. Someone please shed some light on this. Do guys want to hear if we have a crush on them?

So I have a crush on someone. And he has a crush on me too. Okay, so we're crazy about each other. Okay, so I'm madly in love with him and he's madly in love with me. How exciting is that? This is so awesome.

Secondhand Dating

Some call it frugal. Some call it thrifty. Some call it downright cheap. I call it smart.

I spend next to nothing for my thrift store finds, and I get compliments on my outfits all the time. You don’t have to look like a hobo while wearing second hand finds. In fact, you can have three times the wardrobe and constantly wear something different, while not spending your two-week paycheck on those jeans you’ve been coveting.










The same goes for relationships. Sometimes the “gently used” people are the best ones to date.
I’ve been in the uncomfortable situation too many times, where I find myself out and about with a newbie, someone who has little to no dating experience. It’s so uncomfortable for both people when someone is fumbling and inexperienced. Besides the fact that I don’t have time to hang around and feel like I’m on a high school date. Let’s be grown-ups and date like we know what the hell we’re doing, shall we?

It is interesting to me that sometimes people show enough confidence that their inexperience is masked for the first few dates. I’ve been duped by this before. They start off great, and then I find out that they have only been on a couple dates in their life, or that their only serious girlfriend was for a few months five years ago.

The bottom line: I don’t teach. People who have been through relationships and have been down the road once or twice are going to go a lot farther with me. I prefer to date men who have seen the good, the bad, and the ugly, because they will appreciate me and what they have with me. That is one thing I am thankful for – I know what I want, what I don’t want and where I’m willing to compromise. This is a good thing for people I date because I won’t be dragging them around while I’m trying to figure out if I want to date them or not. And of course I appreciate the same thing from the people I date.

The solution for people who aren’t yet “gently used?” Get out there, date up a storm and get some notches in your belt. It will serve you and your future relationships a great purpose. Best case scenario is you meet the perfect person. If you don’t meet them for a while, at least you’ll know what you don’t want.

The flipside is the “holes in the knees” people. You know the type: they have been around the block too many times. Their reputations aren’t the best, you know several of their exes… they are on other end of the spectrum. I feel like I am in the middle, between the newbies and the serial daters. I would prefer to not date new people constantly, but apparently that is what is in the cards for me seeing as how I am still single. That said, I turn down dates that I know are going to not work out.

The moral of the story is that you can find some amazing used things, bring them home, take good care of them and they will last you a long time and make you feel great. Turns out, the same goes for people.

When His Hermes Handbag Trumps My Louis Vuitton... We Have a Problem

I spotted him as soon as I got in the airport security line. He was tall, thin (but not too thin… fit), with dark hair and good skin. He was impeccably dressed, from the Ferragamo shoes to the Versace eyeglasses. His suit was expensive, but not so expensive that he appeared to be trying too hard. I noticed his amazing Hermes leather satchel and turned to him. “Great bag,” I said, nonchalantly. In a voice higher-pitched than Jack from Will & Grace, he squealed, “Oh THANK YOU! So much.” He might as well have added a heel kick and an “OMG!” to the end of that sentence.

I’m surrounded by girly men.

Are straight men ever this stylish? Follow-up question: are said straight stylish men ever low-maintenance? Ahhh, that’s the ticket right there.

I’ve dated this guy before… the questionably straight girly man who dresses better than me, has more hair products than I do, and gets more facials than anyone I know. This man is one in a plentiful breed. Let’s explore the characteristics of this ever-growing population.

They take forever to get ready. They iron every item of clothing, including jeans they are about to wear to the grocery store. Their home is decorated almost as nicely as mine (almost). They don’t know how to fix anything around the house. They cook over-the-top meals that take many hours and about 30 ingredients. They know when my eye shadow is different. They have polished shoes. They have softer hands than I do.

I’m not saying any of these are bad things. It’s the combination of everything that makes it hard to date this guy. I can’t tell you how many times I sat in the living room, ready to go, while Girly Man was putting more stuff in his hair or looking for the right watch to match with his outfit. Now I know how guys feel when the girl isn’t ready when they get there to pick them up. Annoyed.

I love a sharp-dressed man. But is it too much to ask for that sharp dressing to be easy and effortless? And what about a low-key beauty routine? What happened to a man taking a shower, and smelling like soap? A little smell-good cologne isn’t bad, as long as I’m not searching for the gas mask when we get in the car. C’mon guys! Get it together.

I like to be the girl in the relationship, who holds the cards on knowing which night cream is best, and whether to use body scrub once a week or more frequently. It’s just my old fashioned nature I guess. Not a fan of the guy knowing more about this than me.

So are there any men out there who are impeccably dressed AND somewhat mountain man-ish? Is this possible? My experience is from one extreme to the next, so a middle ground sure would be nice. Obviously I am willing to compromise, but after dating Girly Man, I have declared my unwillingness to date a man more girly than myself.



Please follow me on twitter: @danaseals

Twisted Sisters

I’m in a book club. One with great girls, delicious food, wine and dessert, and fantastic book choices. Here’s how it goes down at my book club: Each month, someone chooses a book. We all read the book, then meet every six weeks to talk about the book. Except we never talk about it. We talk about everything from vampires to babies to baby vampires to gossip to Gossip Girl to girls being cooler than boys. You name it, we talk about it. But the actual book?

No, we don’t usually get into that. Until last night.

This month, the ultra cool Punky-Brewster look-alike, Lacey, chose Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith by John Krakauer. This book delves into the world of a branch-out sect of a certain denomination. Without going into a religious commentary, I will say that I am just not on board with these extreme fundamentalists. I’m serious, they believe in some batshit crazy things. A large component of their belief is that men are allowed to marry whoever they feel like marrying (including step-daughters and nieces), and marry as many of them as they want.

Hold up.

Pump the brakes.

As one of my book club gals put it, her husband made a comment to the tune of “I can barely handle you and the baby AND my job. Throw in more wives and more babies? No thanks.” Agreed. However, I can see why these guys want so many wives, because they are only allowed to sleep with a woman if she is in ovulation. Well, if you have tons of women in the pipeline, you don’t have to wait too long before your next sexy time. I mean, I get it. If you're a sex-craved maniac who likes to control women.

Plus, they don’t have to pay too much money for these other wives because technically they are not married, so technically they are single moms (of a billion kids), so they get a bunch of government assistance from tax dollars, such as food stamps. In light of this information, I’d like to give a shout-out to all the crazy plural wives out there: “You’re welcome.”

The men in the book all had so much in common: they are controlling, egotistical, and looking out for No. 1. Basically, they exhibit all of the personality traits that I can’t stand.

I haven’t seen the reality show Sister Wives, because I live in 1975 and do not have cable television. But we talked about this at length last night. These women (picture on left with Mr. Main Man in the center) claim to be 100% fine with their husband sleeping with the other women. Ummm, no you aren’t. I’ll go on the record right now and say that there is not one woman out there who is perfectly fine with her husband sleeping with another woman. Don’t tell me they don’t want to bitch slap each other on a daily basis.

It is "how they were raised," "God says it’s okay"… this is how they justify it. I just can’t wrap my brain around this concept.

I am not generally a jealous person. But I would be bold-faced lying if I told you that I don’t feel a twinge of some kind of jealousy if an ex-girlfriend calls or if he is chatty kathy with some girls while we are out. I think that is pretty natural to feel that way. But I am skilled at rationalizing what is cause for concern and what is not worth the emotional drain and the potential argument.

I have known some people who were insanely jealous, all the time. I always feel sorry for these people, because they are severely missing out on a happy, cool life if all they think about is what this other person is doing. Until it turns into “who” they are doing, just calm down. Give somebody the benefit of the doubt and see what happens.

If any of you jealous nellies out there read this and heed my advice, I may have just saved you a lot of stress.

Unless, of course, you are a plural wife. In which case, you probably aren’t reading this, except for the rare instance that your controlling husband is letting you read a blog about dating and relationships. The same blog that regularly tells you to grow a pair and take control of yourself and your happiness. Yeah, I didn’t think so.

(Although slow in a few places (because it goes deep into the history of the religion... zzzzz....), Under the Banner of Heaven was a very interesting book. Check it out here.)

Would You Like a Gin and Platonic, or a Scotch and Sofa?

So you’re out with your friends, looking all amazing and having a great time. You spot a good prospect over at the bar, so you try hard to look cool and not like the total stalker that you are, sneaking glances over in their direction. You tell your friends about this person, and then are mortified when they ALL look over at once.

Girls might do a little hair flip. Guys might do the smoldering stare. If there is any mutual hair flipping/smoldering staring going on, somebody will make a move. It’s like playing chess. So here you are, standing right in front of each other.

Now comes the pickup line...


Such a crucial time – this first impression pickup line situation. It can be funny and sexy, or it can fall flatter than Amy Winehouse on a sidewalk. I have heard some hilarious, great pickup lines and I have heard some that made me want to throw up in my mouth a little bit. The success rate is usually pretty low if you go for gimmicky, however. I don’t care how much swagger you have walking up to me. If you throw out something ridiculous, I’m not picking up what you’re putting down.

Back in college, I was at a bar with some girlfriends. This cowboy sauntered up to me and licked my shirt sleeve. He literally rendered me speechless. Then he put his arm around me and said “C’mon sugar. Let’s get you home and out of those wet clothes.” That one didn’t work.

One time, back in Alabama, I was at a Waffle House (I know…sexy) with some girls and a much older guy leaned over to my friend Michelle and said “You look so good, I want to put you on a plate and sop you up with a biscuit.” That one didn’t work either.

I overheard this one a few years back: “You be the tree, and I’ll wrap you like a Koala.” Kind of cute, but more oogie than cute.

I also got this one recently: “Are you from Tennessee? Because you’re the only ten I see around here.” Clever, but clearly he didn’t know of my disdain for the Tennessee Vols. Regardless, I just wasn’t interested.

I polled my friends and here are the best pickup lines they have ever heard:
(Note: These are real life, real talk, non-fiction.)

(At the gym, flexing his bicep) “Are you a pediatrician? Because these babies are SICK!” –Angela

I was walking through Wal-Mart last July 3rd, and I had a halter top on. I had so many mosquito bites, and I was scratching my shoulder. A gross older guy walked by and asked if he could “help me with my itch”. Freaked out, I was truly speechless and for some reason on instinct my answer came out yes, thank you. I quickly corrected it, and 5 minutes later he found me on a different isle asking “Can we start from scratch?” –Tiffany

(On a college campus) “Damn, you look so educated.” –Katie

“Can you buy me a beer?” from an obviously underage girl. –Jared

“Wanna get some Nachos and F***?” –Amanda

“Hey gurl. I want to feed chu. Whatcha name is?” –Natalie

“Spend the night with me and I will help you with the restraining order in the morning.” –Wally

“Honey, is your daddy a thief? He must have stolen the stars and put them in your eyes” –Sarah

‎”Hi. What have you got to lose?” –Jonathan

“Hi. You’re my type.” –Mack (they’ve been together ever since)

“Would you like to test drive my car?” –Mandi (now married to this guy)

My favorite:
“Hey, could you loan me a dollar for a beer?” I made him sign a note that he would pay me back $1.25. He did, and 3 years later we got married. –Karen

One of my girlfriends' buddies reads my blog religiously (thank you!). He said that he reads my stuff for a girl’s perspective, to get advice. So here you go: this is what works. Walk up to them confidently (not cocky – there is a difference) and say “Hey, what’s up? I’m (insert your name here).”

That’s all you have to do. Really.

You So Crazy

If you were to ask most people how they feel about any of their exes, I would put money on the answer being something to the tune of “He/She is crazy.”

I’ve said it a hundred times. I can describe pretty much every guy I’ve dated as “crazy.” They don’t usually start that way. There is something about the demise of a relationship that makes people crazy, or do crazy things.

This got me thinking: are we already screwed up? Or do they make us crazy…
I may be eccentric, but I am not crazy. Although I have done things that sure make me look it. Certain situations have made me do things that I am not proud of. I have polled many friends, and all are in agreeance that men make us crazy. We do so many things that are out of character for us, for instance:

Back in the day, I was known to sometimes sit by the phone, obsessing over whether it would ring. I have done drive-bys, just to see if they are home. And if they are home, I then wonder why they aren’t calling me back? I have been way too available, have dropped plans at the first chance to spend time with a guy, have Google-stalked the heck out of someone (then acted surprised when they told me things I already knew about them, but couldn’t admit that I knew). You name it, I have done it. Because I was young, over-eager, hopelessly romantic.

Whatever the reason, I was crazy. I’ll own up to it. It’s the merging of two ideas in your head: you are alone (read: lonely), and this person is pretty great. So clearly, this match-up could be awesome and lucrative for you. So you get excited (too excited), and you make a fool of yourself.

I may be a tad old-fashioned, but I feel like the guy should be the pursuer. Otherwise, how am I supposed to know if he’s actually into me? If I’m the one doing all the work, then he could just be going along with it because it’s so easy and convenient for him.

Thank God I’ve gotten past the crazy. I no longer obsess over situations, or people. If he doesn’t call or try to take me out, or if he acts uninterested or plays games, then he clearly does not understand how awesome I am (and the rest of you are just as awesome, fyi…). We are all lovely creations, and people who act aloof are not deserving of our time and efforts. My brain simply doesn’t have enough room for worrying about what to do when he doesn’t call. Life is way too short for that kind of ridiculousness.

So, as much as you might like that guy, or as perfect as he may seem, let him go if he isn’t pursuing you. You deserve better than that. Because, really, when you are old and your grandkids ask you, “How did you guys meet?” you certainly don’t want the answer to be, “Well, sweetheart, when I met your grandfather, he was lukewarm on me, but I stalked the hell out of him and chased him until he finally gave in and we have been married ever since.”

The Best Kept Secret

A wise woman once said that the secret to a happy marriage lies within the 4 F's:

Fun
Faith/Fellowship
First
Friend

You need to have Fun. I list this first because this is the easiest thing to spot right away. I have been on fun dates and I have been on dates where I wanted to find a rock to climb under just because that seemed like it might be more fun. I picture myself growing old with someone I have fun with because I personally cannot go a day without a big belly laugh. Usually I end up cracking myself up throughout the day but I sure love it when somebody can make me smile and laugh.

Faith/Fellowship is so important. If you don't believe the same things, then you are just asking for trouble. I once made the difficult decision to stop seeing a very nice guy because he refused to go to church with me. I am aware that I may have been jumping the gun a little bit, but I am not marrying a man who doesn't go to church. If he isn't going now, that is not something I can change. Nor do I want to. I just don't have the time or patience to try to change someone. I have always said that we are who we are. People don't change. Besides, I am not going to be getting the kids up for church in the morning and telling them how important church is, only to get this in reply, "Then why doesn't Daddy have to go?" No thanks.

You have to put the other person First. I have had enough of seeing people put their jobs, their hobbies, whatever else, in front of their significant other. You are spending your life with this person, so I think they deserve to take the top spot in your list of priorities. I'm going to take this one step further, however, and say that both people need to collectively put God first and then the other person directly underneath God. See, here's how I picture the organizational chart playing out:

Yeah I said it, the kids go on the 3rd rung. The way I look at it is this: Those kids are going to be out of the house one day and I don't want to be sitting across the kitchen table from someone who I don't know the first thing about, because the kids have been the priority for all those years. I have seen way too many marriages collapse after the kids leave. I'm no expert, but I have a suspicion that it has something to do with putting kids and everything else before your spouse.

Finally, you have to be Friends. I look forward to the day where I get to hang out with my best friend every single day. This person needs to be your go-to person for everything good, bad, indifferent, ugly, whatever, that you want to talk about. That is going to be pretty awesome.

It's a simple formula, really, and it works.

Fathers, Be Good To Your Daughters

The oh-so-poetic John Mayer once told the fathers of the world to be good to their daughters. This is because, according to Mr. Mayer, the daughters will love like they do. I have found this to be true for both of my cases. You see, I have two fathers. One abandoned us when I was very young and the other came in and rescued us, in a sense.

Sometimes I am slow to love others. That is one thing I learned from my first father. I have found myself at times to be guarded and gun shy, as if I’m going to be hurt beyond recognition. I guess I just remember what it was like the first time I had my heart broken by a man. Twenty years later, it’s still not all the way back together. Nothing has ever been as bad as that first heartbreak, and I hope it stays that way. That heartbreak, however, hardened me a bit. So now in my adult years, I have the ability to always handle heartache with stride. I’m proud of myself when I am able to hold back tears and not fall apart at the worst times. Because whatever the current situation is, I have been through worse. He taught me that.

My second father loves his family more than anything, and I adopted those ideals immediately. I can see him in myself in so many ways, even though he wasn’t in our lives until I was a teenager. When I finally do open up my heart to someone, I find myself loving them the way he and my mom love each other. I’m proud of myself when I can be so unconditionally loving and caring. He and my mom taught me that.

The song resonates with me, “Oh you see that skin? It’s the same she’s been standing in since the day she saw him walking away. Now she’s left, cleaning up the mess he made.” I always feel something in my chest when I hear that line, because it feels like he is describing me. Some people say that a daughter’s relationship with her father is the model for all of her subsequent relationships with men. If you were given a less than perfect model, does that mean a life of less than perfect men? Sometimes it does. But the opposite is true for me. The actions of my first father made me incredibly picky because I refuse to end up with someone who will hurt me and our kids and leave us in his dust, picking up the pieces.

Every girl needs to be picky until she finds that man who is solid. Bonnie Raitt said it best: “I ain’t looking for the kind of man who can’t stand a little shaky ground. He’ll bring me fire and tenderness, and have the guts to stick around.”

I have been thinking about fathers today because it is my second father’s birthday. He has been a saint for our family and I hope he knows how loved he is.

Oh, and one more thing before you go. I can’t forget to mention that other father, the most important one of all. He is the true definition of unconditional love and kindness and I am thankful to Him every single day for getting me through the pain of my early years to make me strong, teaching me valuable lessons to make me wise, and for bringing that saint of a stepfather to us to help us see what a real man is made of. I am so thankful.

The Ex Factor

You know that great guy who just isn't right for you, but when you find out later that he is getting married and appears to be insanely happy, you are happy for him? He’s no longer the dreaded ex at that point. He’s a super nice guy that you dated once upon a time. Keep in mind, “ex” and “super nice” are not normally words I use in the same sentence. But they do exist, in some parallel universe.

Take High School Boyfriend Guy. I dated him when I was a junior and he was a senior, and we ate sno cones every single day. We had a great time, he left for college, and that was the end of it. Except for a lunch many years later, we completely lost touch. He was, however, such a nice guy that when I found out he was marrying what was rumored to be a sweet girl, I was happy for him.

And then you have In The Closet Gay Guy, who left me for a dude. He and the dude were best friends, and I always thought something was strange about the way they chased each other around the house with a twisted up dish towel, trying to pop the other one in the legs or other various body parts. Well where there is smoke… I found out years later that he married a woman and they are doing well! It’s like the mystery of the sphinx, when you think about it.

It can go either way, really. You can be happy for them or you can pity the girl (or guy…) who ends up with your ex.

Tonight I started thinking about rebounds. I am going to be one of these girls one day. I will either be one-half of a couple who everyone is happy for because he is such a great guy, or I’ll be one-half of a couple who is an inside joke to tons of people. I will either get lots of “So great to meet you! You’re such a lucky girl!", or I’ll get sneers at parties and tons of pity. But is it possible that guys aren’t great in everyone’s eyes? Maybe it was a messy breakup and his image will forever be tainted, even if she is the one who screwed it up. We can’t know for sure. Or maybe he really is a douchebag.

Maybe some folks aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe they need to run free until they find someone just as wild to run with. And that would create animosity with the people who aren’t wild enough to run with them.

Guess it just goes to show you… one woman's Titanic is another woman's Love Boat.

Step Away From The Bottle...

Public Health “Institue”

Today’s mail brought me an invitation to participate in a local study of alcoholics at the Public Health “Institue”. So many things jumped out at me the second I opened the envelope.

First of all, are you calling me an alcoholic? Because I have a thing or two to say to you, letter in the mail. Yes I love my vodka tonic more than I love any other beverage and most foods. But I have complete control over my alcohol intake. And I know I have a propensity toward alcoholism (yes, Mom, I do know this), so I’m extra careful. Don’t tell me I have an alcohol problem, letter in the mail! Oh no, they di-n’t.

Secondly, who in their right mind would participate in a study conducted by a group who cannot spell “Institute” correctly? The sheer thought of it gives me a Whoopi Goldberg big-eyed, wrinkled forehead look.

After shredding the letter, I got to thinking about alcohol and dating. Since we (you and me) are so fabulous, we definitely don’t need to drink a lot so we’re more fun to be around. But sometimes we do need to drink a lot to make the other person more fun to be around.

I have a rule where I don’t drink too much during the week. But sometimes I find myself on one of those weeknight outings where one drink isn’t cutting it. So we all make sacrifices. And if that means 3 vodka tonics to get through the conversation, so be it.

Then there was Tight Jeans Guy who wasn’t a drinker but said that he was fine with me drinking. So of course I did. I can’t resist a good drink when the bartender is staring me in the face, tempting me with Grey Goose. I had one drink on our first date. And then one drink on our second date. And he didn’t go out with me again because I “drank too much.” Okay. Let’s be honest here. What he really needed was a girl who doesn’t drink either.

My brother says he doesn’t trust anyone who doesn’t drink. I agree with that sentiment, to a degree. Although I will take it one step further and add that I don’t trust people who don't believe in God or men who wear pink pants. And yes, I know someone who wears pink pants. He calls them “salmon” but believe me, they are pink. Therefore I don’t trust him completely.

I have no desire to dictate whether someone should or should not drink. However, since Tight Jeans Guy, I have never dated a non-drinker, because I feel like I will always be judged. I don’t plan on putting down the bottle anytime soon, and I would hate for it to be a dealbreaker. The older I get, the more I am interested in a minimal number of drinks and calling it a night. Seriously, if I get dumped again for drinking too much, I am looking up the Public Health “Institue” and giving them a call. There might be money and blog material involved, and you know those are two things I can’t pass up.

30 Bucks... Not Well Spent

It’s been a while since my 7-day trial on Yahoo Personals ended (see the post about it here). Behold one of my favorite messages:


<>I just paid 30 bucks to talk to you! <> lol Seriously, my account with this site cancellled the other day but Ive been able to just look at profiles since. Your profile caught my eye and thought that I might give it one more try. <> <> <> <>I think you and I may have alot in common and I was hoping I could have an opportunity to get to know you. I know, I know your wondering what we might have in common.....well slow down give me time to type. Lets seeee....hmmm... well were both Christians, I have a job and so do you, we both live in Fort Worth, were both ok with our money, ummm... you write funny blogs, I like to read funny blogs. I have a magnolia tree in my front yard but to be honest I cant stand it becuase it didnt bloom and all it does is shed its leaves. I love my job (I work as a purchasing agent for steel) but it stressfull at times and enjoy the peeps I work with as well.<> <> <> <>If you havent noticed yet Im a bit of a goofball, I like to have fun in whatever I do. I have some great friends and we hang out often having bbqs or road trips to the river or where ever suites our fancy. I think I spelled suites wrong, oh well hope you're not a grammer nut if so I apologize for that last statment as well. ha! Anywho if you think I might fit the bill of someone youd like to get to know then I'd like to hear back from ya. Have a great day Dana!! Im out!! <> <> <> <>Dueces!!<><>


Yes, this is a real message from a real Yahoo Personals guy. Let’s break it down.

Is he trying to make me feel obligated to talk to him because he just paid 30 bucks? All this did for me was make me feel obligated to read the message. Nothing more than that so far.

So he’s telling me to slow down so he can have time to type. Okay, no problem, considering I’m not standing over him like Mrs. Vaughn in Stephenville High School typing class, watching his every move. How about he stops pretending I am responding to him in real time? That’s a little creepy.

Christian. Okay, check.

Has a job. Okay, check.

Lives in Fort Worth. Okay, check.

Okay on money. Okay, that’s nice. But where did he get that I am okay on my money? I don’t have a thing about money in my profile… assuming things. And you know that only makes an ass out of him and him.

Likes to read funny blogs. Okay, check. (as if I would just hand my blog address out to any Tom, Dick and Harry… again, assuming here)

Has a magnolia tree but hates it. Okay, that’s… interesting. I guess.

He enjoys the “peeps” he works with. Okay, so he knows ebonics…

He’s a goofball who likes hanging out with his friends. Okay, goofball is okay. But I have a feeling that we are creeping into Jon Gosselin immaturity territory.

He hopes I’m not a grammar nut. Well. The fact that his note to me contains 7 misspelled words and he doesn’t know how to use an apostrophe is enough to make this self-proclaimed grammar nazi very unhappy.

Did he really just say "Anywho" ?

He ends notes with “Deuces”. I can already tell that Bama wouldn't like this guy.

And what’s with all the <> stuff? I guess he’s artistic? Who knows.

So I know I’m ripping this guy apart, but seriously. If this is all you have for a first impression because it’s online and not face to face, then you need to send something a little more intelligent than this.

Sorry, buddy, you wasted your 30 bucks. Hopefully this note worked on somebody else.

Enough, this is not dating. I want moonlight and flowers and candy and people trying to kiss me. Nobody is trying to kiss me! Nobody is even looking my direction. Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to do all this? I’m shaved and plucked and I iron my clothes! No more of this until one of you men figures how to put on a date! I want heat, I want romance, damn it! I want to feel like a lady!

And I don’t want to be told I’m too hot or too sexy to be a serious girlfriend. That’s a load of crap. (Yes, I was told that recently)

Thank God that 7-day Yahoo Personals trial is over. Now I can resume my normal dating life that consists of tons of first dates, a tiny bit of second dates and sometimes, every once in a blue moon, a meaningful relationship.

Soul Mate vs. Sole Mate

I was honored to be invited to eat Easter supper with a very sweet couple and their family. I enjoyed every second of it, from the meal to the impromptu basketball. Everyone is so nice and down to Earth. And funny… you have no idea! I had never before met their other two “kids” (I use that term loosely because we are far from being kids) and I just adore them. What a great bunch of folks.

Every time I am with this couple, I can see very clearly that they are soul mates. You can see it when they look at each other. Same with my mom and stepdad (who is more of a dad than my dad, so we’ll call him my “dad”). Obviously they are meant to be together.

So that evening, after I got home, I sat on my patio and got to thinking about soul mates. Two small words, one huge concept.

So is there always such a thing? Or are some people just lucky enough to find this elusive soul mate? Is there really just one person out there who holds the key to your heart, your dream house, your dream life? No man defines who you are. This I cannot emphasize enough. But can that one man define everything else about your life, including your happiness?

I don’t know the answer. I guess I just have to have faith. At the end of the day faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you don't really expect it. It's like one day you realize that the fairy tale may be slightly different than you dreamed. The castle, well, it may not be a castle. It may be my 1,090 square foot “cottage” that needs to be repainted. The two perfect children and a perfect white picket fence… well, I do have two perfect pets and a wooden picket fence that is not painted white but it’s perfect just the way it is.

I looked around and realized that I am right where I need to be. I have everything I could possibly need. Of course it’s easy to want more. But when it comes down to it, if that soul mate ever shows up (if such a thing even exists), it would just be icing on the cake that is my life.

The Bridges of Tarrant County

Today I got to thinking the past and the proverbial “one that got away.”

I know several people who still think about the “one that got away” and it makes me hope I’m not in that position years from now. I don’t have a “one that got away” in the technical sense. It’s more the “one that could have been so amazing.”

We met in an airport terminal during a ridiculously long layover. We clicked, and then we went out for drinks after returning home from our respective trips. We were having one of those great first dates that you can only have when it’s not an actual date. And then I flaked out and decided to give my wayward boyfriend another shot. I promptly deleted Airport Guy’s phone number and gave my relationship 100%. I didn't think I would ever see him again, and that made me a little sad. He sure was cute. And he made me laugh.

A year later, I had been single for a while (wayward boyfriend didn’t last after all) and I couldn’t get Airport Guy out of my head. There was just something about him that was so comfortable. I remembered his phone number in my head (I’m weird like that) and dialed him. He met me that day and so began a really great summer. We never endured the DTR (Define the Relationship discussion) but I was okay with that. I just enjoyed being with him. We were good together. We watched a lot of Jeopardy and hit Mellow Mushroom on Tuesday nights to dominate their trivia game. But the summer ended and he disappeared without a word. I am not a person who gets mad, but I was disappointed. I really liked him and I think he liked me too. I held out hope for a while that he would come back but realized that he must have needed to be alone. I still think about him often and wonder how he’s doing. And sometimes I’ll text a “hello” to him. I don’t think he knows how much of an impression he made on me.

Maybe one day I’ll meet someone who makes me not want to call Airport Guy during weak moments. Or maybe this is going to be like the 'Bridges of Tarrant County', a very brief affair I'll write about in sappy letters to my grandchildren. Either way, it sure was a great summer and I smile when I think about it.

The Ron Burgundy of the Dating World

I’m at that point where I feel like enough time has passed since The Breakup that I can start dating again. You have to allow enough time to pass that you aren’t unfair to the next guy. Especially when The Breakup was a painful one. So, here we go.

After two failed setups (one completely flaked out and the other felt “no spark”, which I will agree with), I noticed that I am at a standstill. And standstill means two things: (1) I am not going out and enjoying the dating world, and (2) I have no material for this blog!

So. I need material.

So. I joined Yahoo Personals.

I don’t know how this works, so I try to paint a picture of who I am by copying and pasting my oh-so-clever facebook “About Me” section. I have to answer every question under the sun, from my drinking habits (I clicked “weekly”… is that bad?) to my religion to my desire to have kids, to whether I live alone or with roommates. I could feel sweat under my arms. I suddenly remembered the feeling in high school when your parents ask you a question that you don’t really want to answer, like “what happened to the car?”

And now it’s picture time. Geez… really? I have a ton of great pictures where I look real good, but they are old and 4 hair colors ago. I settled on one from last September where I am actually wearing lipstick.

I selected the box that said “Notify me of updates every three days”. 30 minutes pass. I can’t stand it. I logged in, hoping that maybe some people have taken a likin’ to me and found that 87 men had viewed my profile and I had 17 new messages. Whaaaat?

Some guys are cute, some are scary and this one guy sent me this:

“Oh, and one more thing: I want to say something. I'm going to put it out there; if you like it, you can take it, if you don't, send it right back. I want to be on you. And if you find the humor in that, we'll get a long just fine.”

My eyes got big, I closed the World Wide Web Internet and backed away from the computer. Seriously?? That’s your opening line??

Later that day I was conversing with We Go Way Back Guy (who is very cute and datable, ladies...) about this and he let me in on a little secret. This is a line from Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. Really? I have seen the cinematic greatness. Don’t remember the line. Am still creeped out.

More stories to come as I weed through this enormous stack of messages from potential suitors.

Over My Dead Iris

It's almost Spring. How do I know this? Not because the temperatures are warmer (we had snow this morning), but because my irises are about to bloom. I have some of the most beautiful heirloom irises in my front yard. A few years ago, I painstakingly extracted them from my sweet neighbor's yard (with permission of course) and planted them. I care for them all year in order to see their beautiful blooms for about 3-4 weeks. That's all I get, but it's worth it.

Speaking of irises, I'll never forget a guy I met last year. While I was pumping gas into my Sexy Dude (that's my car's name), I was watching the storm clouds roll in at an alarming speed. A guy about my age was pumping gas at the pump next to me (we'll call him "Texaco Guy"). Texaco Guy turned to me and asked if I knew where the storm was coming in from. I had just been at home on my lunch break and was watching the news, so I told him that it was headed our way from Stephenville. He then replied, "Oh! I know Stephenville! I used to go to school out there."

Really?

So I told him that I, too, went to school in Stephenville, so we talked about the town for another 4 gallons of gas. He and I were each getting in our cars, and I said "Well, it's starting to sprinkle, so you better get wherever you are headed!" He told me that he only lived a block away so no big deal.

Really?

I thought he was a nice enough guy, so I offered up that I, too, live about a block away, and we marveled at the small world we live in. He waved and drove off and I went on my merry way. Not interested in the guy, but he seemed nice.

Fast forward two weeks. I get home at around 9pm on a Friday night (yes, my life is that exciting) and find a note and flowers on my doorstep. WOW!! What a nice gesture! I wasn't dating anyone at the time, so this was a big surprise. I read the note and it was from Texaco Guy and he was asking me out on a date. Hmmm... interesting. The flowers were just laying there in a pile, which was odd, but they were beautiful. Yellow irises! My favorite! There is no way he could have known that, but the coincidence was nice. There was also a single red tulip in there. Strange. But whatever.

Wait, how does he know what house I live in? I was vague at the gas station, right?!

I promptly set my alarm, shut the window shades (just in case he's lurking somewhere) and decided to put my new beautiful flowers in a vase. They are so pretty, and I could not figure out where he found irises. Those are not usually found in flower shops because they die pretty much the same day you cut them. Hmmm...

I admired my flowers for a minute, and remembered that I needed to get my mail out of the mailbox. Once I was out there, something caught my eye. What is different in my front yard? Something... looks... strange... Wait. Where are my beautiful irises? They are all in full bloom right now and I don't see a single bloom.

Then it hit me. Texaco Guy cut all MY irises down and gave them to me! WHAT IN THE WORLD??? I wait ALL YEAR for my irises to bloom and he cut them all down?? And who on my block is missing one red tulip? What the heck?!

If only I knew what house he lived in, I would have gone and dug up all his shrubs and left them on his front doorstep, with a note that said "Thanks, but I'm busy."

Ball of Lent

There are so many things I could give up for Lent. 40 days and 40 nights of missing something in your life. Something you get too much of.

How do you know when how much is too much? Too much too soon. Too much information. Too much fun. Too much love. Too much to ask... And when is it all just too much to bear?

I could give up dating, for instance. You know, the game of getting to know someone… finding out if they are your type… hoping they are being honest with you when they tell you things that you really want to hear. It’s awkward at times and completely exhausting! But the thing is... there are some things people don't admit because they just don't like the way it sounds. Like, “I’m lonely”. I admit it. I am. The loneliness is palpable. But I'm not desperate. There is a difference. Therefore I will not give up.

I could give up reading my girlie books and read something more sustaining (like the Bible). But I love my easy books. Give me a vampire novel and a cozy chair and you have one completely content girl. When I first moved to Fort Worth and I was totally broke, sometimes I would buy a book instead of dinner. I felt it fed me more. So I’m not giving it up.

I gave up alcohol last year. That was a fun one. I felt healthier, although I found myself turning into a recluse because I couldn’t bear to go to social events where everyone was enjoying a drink and I was sipping on water. The jealousy was radiating from me. Not that I need alcohol, but it sure does make for a more fun evening, given the choice to partake or not. This year, I am not giving it up.

I had to think of something I love, something important to me and my daily life. So I am giving up excess sugar. This is a sacrifice for me. I am like a little kid. I love sugar, in my coffee, in dark chocolate, just spooned into my mouth. Whatever. I love it.

So we’re one day down, 39 to go. Check back with me later when my coffee is sugarless and I am passing on the cake in the breakroom. I might be ready to hang it up. But I won’t. This is important.

The Tricky World of Men

When men make big, bold gestures, they are considered romantic and chivalrous. When women make big, bold gestures, they are considered desperate and psycho. Explain this to me, please.

I'm all for romanticism. I actually live for that kind of stuff. However, why can't women be the ones to do it without looking crazy or clingy or pushy? Oh the mysteries of dating life... I guess if we don't want to appear crazy, then we just have to wait around like the good old days and hope that he calls... and today’s “Guy Code” dictates that 3 days must pass before they call us. Seriously?

It's not that we ladies can't pick up the phone and call or text someone - it's that we might look crazy if we do it! I can't help but wonder "Am I bothering them?!" So do they wonder the same thing when they are thinking about us and wanting to send us a little text??

It’s a risk. Not the kind of risk where you'll find yourself in some guy's basement being ordered to put the lotion on the skin or you'll get the hose again. But it’s a risk to our pride, and to our hearts. We don’t want to look bad and we don’t want to potentially lose a great guy because he thought we were pushy by contacting him first. On the flipside, if a guy is going to run screaming from something like that –do we even want him?

Sometimes I wish I had the deluded self confidence that causes people like Ross Perot to run for President; or people like Lady Gaga to run around in a banana suit. I wouldn't care what they thought. If I wanted to call or text someone, I'd just DO it. Confidence is sexy, and I have tons of confidence (except when it comes to this one issue).

In the words of the brilliant Carrie Bradshaw: "Men are like the New York Times Crossword puzzle: tricky, complicated and you are never really sure you got the right answer." Amen, sister.

Smile! You're on Candid Camera!

You are on Candid Camera!

As a single girl, one of the worst things you can ever hear is a half-trusted friend saying something to the tune of “I have someone you have GOT to meet! He would be perfect for you!!” And when you ask “Oh yeah? What’s he like?” The answer is almost always “He’s… umm… a really nice guy.”

Mmm hmmm. I’m sure he is.

The blind date is a precarious situation. It can be awkward, it can be boring, it can be stunning. It’s a roll of the dice. It’s also somewhat stressful.

Do you allow them to come to your house? And risk the possibility of them becoming some wild-eyed stalker, looking in your windows at night and cutting down your flowers just to give them to you? That last one actually happened to me.

Or do you meet them out somewhere, and throw all gentlemanly, chivalrous behavior out the window?

Oh the decisions!

I’ve been on several blind dates. Half of them have been mediocre and exactly one of them has been downright horrific, forcing me to ask myself if I could possibly be on candid camera.

My first (and worst) brush with blind dating was when I was 17. My hairdresser decided she wanted to set me up with her “19-year-old” nephew. I gave in after months of prodding (and a threat to fry my hair or turn it awful shades of “old lady”). Within days, a guy in his mid-20’s showed up at my house on a school night, with each eye going opposite directions and black curly hair full of SoulGlo straight out of the movie Coming to America. I found myself looking for plastic to put on the back of the couch before he sat down. On the way to Cinema6, he loudly sang along to the trumpet part on a Miles Davis CD (perfectly fine alone, completely awkward when you have a passenger), his choice of movie was The Green Mile, which he had just seen the day before at the theater.

15 minutes into this terribly sad movie, he started crying, when nothing sad was even going on! It began with a single tear down his cheek and ultimately he was wailing. Loudly. For the rest of the movie. He kept putting his arm around me and I was squirming out of it. Then he was going in for the hand-hold and I was able to get out of it each time until he caught me off guard once and grabbed it firmly. He then proceeded to use the back of my hand as a tissue. Gross! I excused myself to go to the bathroom to sanitize my entire body. I then had to return to my seat for the next THREE HOURS with the crying jeri-curled funky-eyed guy. When we finally left that horrible experience of a movie, I felt so sorry for him that I agreed to go to a local restaurant with him.

I was exhausted and he was puffy eyed and embarrassed, so we looked like quite the pair walking into Montana Restaurant. The waitress handed me a Shirley Temple and he handed me a Sony Discman. Remember back in the day when this contraption fit an entire cd? These things weren’t small and where did he possibly have it stowed away on his person? I know he wasn’t carrying it when we came into the restaurant because he kept trying to hold my hand.

And all this time, I thought the date couldn’t get worse. Now I’m supposed to listen to a cd. Not just any cd – one that contains a song that he wrote for me. Considering this is a blind date, I ask how he came about writing a song for me. He said it was based on the emails we sent back and forth. To which I replied, “Oh, the one email where I told you how to get to my house?!”

I’m in the Twilight Zone.

I high-tailed it out of there as quickly as possible and never saw him again. Bless his heart. I sure hope his moves have gotten better, or he has no hope.

The inspiration behind today’s writing is the fact that, I have hope that out there somewhere is a good blind date. I know, it sounds like an oxymoron. But it’s gotta be true.

Till next time!
XOXO

What Dana Wants - A to Z

I typed this list while watching The Bridges of Madison County. I have to be selective and not settle. Because I don't want to end up like Francesca, 80 years old, nursing my dying husband who was just "so-so" for our 50 years of marriage, while my soulmate is off somewhere in the world without me. No thanks.

So, in the spirit of "not settling", here is my A-Z list of qualities a guy must possess to be the future Mr. Dana's Husband.

Anchor – I am a strong woman, but I want (not “I need”) an anchor, just like with ships. I can be eccentric and sometimes I need somebody to bring me back down to Earth. I know I can be the anchor if need be, but isn’t that one of the job descriptions for guys?

Blithe – He needs to be joyous and carefree. Not one of those ultra-serious types who makes me wonder during dinner, “Is he still thinking about work? Or is he thinking he must have been crazy to agree to be my boyfriend? Or do I smell bad? Which one??”

Cavalier – I’m a southern girl. I need a gentleman.

Debonair – A self-assured man is so very incredible. I have dated my fair share of “Sloppy McSloppersons”, therefore I can appreciate a sharp-dressed man.

Exhilarating – I want to be swept off my feet. Over and over again.

Fit – If our bodies are temples, do I really want someone who throws trash into the temple? No thanks.

Green – I hope to have a guy to help me remember to bring my re-usable bags to the grocery store.

Horticultural – True to my old-lady form, I love my garden and I love my plants. I don’t want someone who is jealous of the time I’m spending with my plant friends. How about someone who puts some gloves on and helps?

Impromptu – I would just adore someone who doesn’t live a strictly planned life, and who can wisk me off somewhere with no notice. Even if it is just to the park.

Jocular – Someone who loves to laugh is someone who has my vote. There is no other way to be.

Knowledgeable – He needs to be able to throw trivia at me that is harder than “Guess what the Statue of Liberty is made out of...” And I’d be okay with him beating me at Jeopardy every once in a while. Well... maybe.

Leery – I know this sounds strange, but I need someone who is just as leery as I am. I don’t trust many folks. The last thing I need is our life savings wasted on some shady guy who promises my guy a great return on something like Chrysler stock.

Mature – There is a time and place for everything, but if I have to fight the Xbox for his attention, we have a problem.

Neat – I am a neat freak in most instances, and we’re going to rumble if I have to move his boxer briefs off the couch for a guest to sit down.

Observant – How nice it would be if he could immediately identify a shift in my mood, instead of me being upset and him asking “What’s wrong?” only after days of my brooding and withholding important things from him. (Sidenote: as open as I am, this is unlikely to happen for 3 days… but you get the gist.)

Passionate. ‘Nuff said.

Quiet – I love to talk (probably too much), but I would love to be able to have someone who embodies the song “Easy Silence”, someone who can be silent with me and there is no need to fill every void with talking.

Ready – I’ve never been one who is looking to get hitched immediately. No way. But when I have the guy and I’m ready, the last thing I need to hear is “I think I’ll be ready in about 5 more years.” Ugh.

Serene – Someone without a temper has my vote. My feathers don’t get ruffled and I don’t want someone I have to hold back from punching something or someone.

Thrifty – I am a thrift queen and have been my entire life. I don’t see that changing, so I am going to need someone who doesn’t run up credit card bills on frivolous things like a ton of Xbox games (see Mature).

Understanding – Sometimes I have moments where I feel like the poster child for kookiness. Hence the need for understanding.

Veracious – Webster says this means “speaking the truth.” No question – this is of utmost importance.

Well-rounded – A true renaissance man is the best.

Xenophobic – I would love to have someone who hates foreigners. Just Kidding. That would tick me off in a hurry. (X-words were slim pickin's.)

Yogic – If he can downward dog with me, then I will be thanking my lucky stars.

Zestful – Everyone loves a little spice.