Warning: Angry Word Vomit

I have nothing to share.

Sorry. What can I say? 

My parents are getting divorced. I think I just broke up with one of my friends because I can't deal with the kind of maintenance the relationships requires. I have to write a gajillion papers. Money is tighter than a hipster's pants. I work 950 hours a week.

So, please, tell me when I'm supposed to be looking for Mr. Right? Hell, when am I supposed to look for Mr. Right-Now?

I guess, really, what I'm saying is this: if one more person tells me that I need to put more effort into finding a boyfriend right now in my life, I'm going to go ape-shit.

Yes, I'm single. Yes, I would love to have someone who cares for and supports me that I can, in turn, care for and support. But you know what? That doesn't just jump out of the bushes when you walk down the street. It takes looking to find a guy worth the effort, and right now, time is what I just don't have.

I'm not giving up, my eyes are still peeled. I just needed to vent that because I hate the way people who have never in their lives been totally single with no one at all interested in them think they can tell me (and people like me) that we should just get significant others. As though we can go to Target and pick one up. 

They're people. Not tampons. He has to like me. And I have to like him. It doesn't work one-way. I like Adam Levine. He's not my boyfriend. See how that works?

Oh, and if I happen to be ringing a cute guy up, I don't need anyone standing over my shoulder watching ("helping") so they can tell me what I did wrong. I don't need anyone telling me that I let my future walk out the door, or that he drove away in a BMW with an UoAlabama Alumni tag on it. 

Honestly, yeah, he was cute, but U------ stood there and starred at me, so I already felt super uncomfortable. Then, while he was actually checking out, he didn't make eye contact with me. Not once. That's rude. So, I don't are how many nice cars or degrees he has, if he can't treat a cashier like a person, then I'm in no way interested. 

So, there it is: my super explosion. If you read the whole thing, you should get a cookie. I apologize. I'll go back to just noting random hot guys now.

For the Very First Time

Friday night, for the very first time, I felt like maybe a guy regretted not getting me when he had the chance.

I was at work (when am I not?), and I looked up and saw a guy I recognized from high school, so I said to J----, "Look, I went to high school with that guy," with the intent to fill her in on his reputation for being a druggie after he walked out.

Then, I saw the guy who was with him. J---- (the second guy) had been walking behind C----, so I hadn't seen him at first. You need some background on J----. He also went to high school with us, but he was a couple years older than me. I knew and liked him then because we were in the drama club (Thespian Society) together, and he was really funny. But then, as now, he was sort of in a different subclass than I was and am. Then, he was a wild, super outgoing guy who had a reputation for drinking and doing pot, and I was a quiet, band-geek/drama-nerd, teacher's daughter with a smart mouth if you were standing close enough to hear me. So, we ran in totally different circles.

Anyway, I looked up and saw him, and smiled because I recognized him, and told them both to have a good night. C---- didn't even look at me, but J---- smiled and said, "You, too." Then, he actually looked at me and kind of stopped. He smiled and kept walking, but then when he got past the inner door, he stopped again, and looked back at me. I made eye contact and grinned because I knew he was trying to place who I was in my head.

I guess something clicked, because he got this great big grin on his face, and came back though the door. He said, "Hey, fellow Thespian!" I said hey back, and walked over to where he had stopped by the door that leads behind the counter.

When I stopped in front of him, his eyes when up and down me, and his pupils dilated a little. He gave me an awkward sort of compliment, and the accompanying gesture was one that led me to believe he was really thinking about what it would be like to put his hands on me. Then, he said, "I recognized your voice while I was back there," gesturing toward the pharmacy. "I just heard a familiar voice, and then here you were."

Now, I don't know if that was actually true or not, but I do know that I have a fairly memorable voice, so I won't call bullshit on it.

Then, he said, "I don't know if you want to hug me or not, I been doing some scuzzy work..." He kind of held his arms out and shrugged.

He did look dirty, but I smiled, told him I didn't care, and hugged him. One-armed, but chest-to-chest. I'm lead by some magazine articles to believe that that is a significant detail.

It was a quick hug, and he didn't grope me, or anything. Then, he told me to have a good night and weekend, kind of awkwardly, like he would have liked to stay longer, but C---- had gone outside before J---- had even stopped to talk. But he was looking back the whole time he was walking out.

And I ate it up! I loved the way he looked at me liked something he wanted made me feel. I felt sexy in a way I never have before. And, to be quite honest, even though I'm about 98% sure he was buying Sudafed with which to manufacture meth, I can't say that I would have said no. I mean, I don't think I would have slept with him, but in the mood I was in after the week I had, I definitely wouldn't have turned down a mauling. Hey, he's still a bad boy, and I'm still young enough to want to try that, maybe.

So, that's the story of how I entertained the thought of a torrid make-out session with a druggie. So much for having standards.

A Little White Lie of Omission

I can not tell a lie. Well, I can. I'm actually pretty good at it, but that's beside the point.

Point being that I've omitted a small detail, mostly because it was utterly unimportant, but I feel a little guilty. The whole idea of this blog is to capture and share my thoughts on how stupid my (nonexistent) love life is, so if I don't share everything, then, I'm not fulfilling my purpose.

So, here it is: E---- almost found me a blind date.

She had a friend that knew someone, and she was really excited. She even made me give her a picture of me to send to her friend to show him. I don't know if my picture ever actually made it to this random man or not, but it is a damn good picture, if I do say so myself.

Anyway, the other day, she broke the bad news: he's 32.

Now, that gives me the opportunity to discuss my age policy.

• Ten years older is my age limit. Now, yes, I am 22 and BDG (Blind Date Guy) is 32, but just because the limit is ten years, that doesn't mean I'm actively searching for someone ten years older. In fact, I'm actively searching for someone 2-4 years older. The other issue is that at 32 a person (ideally) should be fairly settled into life. BDG is a manager at a hotel in Huntsville. So... that doesn't work for me.
• Born after October 20, 1989 is too young. I'm more strict about this one than the other one because I am not going to end up older than my husband unless I out-live him. That's just the way it is, because while I can't wait to call him "grandpa" when we're I'm middle-aged and he's looking fifty squarely in the eye (fifty is not all that old, it's just the standard joke birthday), I do not want to be the first one to hit old age.

Also, there's the maturity level issue. Someone ten years older than me is not going to have the generational outlook that someone nearer my age would, and I behave more maturely than someone younger than me (and pretty much anyone my age, too). I keep hoping that this will be less true (and matter less) as I get older, but so far, it hasn't.

Not to mention, when you hear about pretty much any man over thirty dating a girl under the age of about twenty-seven, you immediately assume she's a slut. At least, that's the prevalent opinion where I am currently living, and yes, I am that shallow that I care what people are saying about me. Anyone who says they don't is lying through her teeth to you and herself.

So, if I'm going to have the "significant age difference" speech with my parents, grandparents, friends, extended family, and every other nosy person in this little southern town, that guy better be a 9.5 or higher. And since that's seriously unlikely, not least of all because I'm not 9.5 compatible, I said probably not to the blind date set up.

That Was Classy...

...Not So Much

Tonight, my friend and I had to pick some things up at Wal-Mart, and as we were walking back to my car, we passed the truck with window paint writing on the back window. I didn't pay any attention to it until she stared laughing and asked if I read it.

It said, "I'm single, hit me up," and had a phone number. Unfortunately, the owner was standing right there, otherwise, I would have collected photographic evidence. He was probably in his mid- to late-twenties, but I didn't really form an opinion on his attractiveness because I was trying not to get caught staring.

But, really, how desperate do you have to be? I'm sure he gets some classy responses.

I'm not Picky... Really...

There are several other people invested in my thus far fruitless search for a romantic partner. For example, I work with two girls who have made it their New Year's Resolution to find me a man. So, I often receive suggestions about this guy or that guy. And more often than not, I look at the guy they're suggesting and say, "Not for me."

This frustrates them to no end, and I've received countless lectures on how the perfect guy does not exist. So, this is a post in defense of myself and my picky behavior.

First off, I realize that having never even been on a date before, in many peoples' opinions, I should accept any offer I'm given gratefully, but I refuse to become the desperate, do-anything-for-a-man girl that goes psycho and boils a rabbit halfway through the movie. So no, I will not accept bottom-feeders, here defined as a) men old enough to be my father, b) men who make less money than I do, c) men who spend all their money on alcohol, cigarettes, illicit drugs, etc. d) any combination of the above, or e) all of the above.

Then there's the problem of where a particular guy might fit into my life. I am a college student working retail full-time. I only intend to be living in Alabama for another two years tops. So, a relationship with someone established and unwilling to relocate would have a shelf-life. That's a problem. And if he was willing to relocate, would he want to relocate when I did, or do the long distance thing? Would I want him to relocate with me, or do I want to enter the adult world on my own two feet? Would he want to get married before relocating? I realize that most of those questions wouldn't come up on a first date, but you can see where it could quickly become an issue in the relationship if he were to try to talk me into staying, or we were racing to get serious before the move. So, there's reason two that I shake my head at a guy: he seems too attached to north Alabama.

 Reason three is simple: I don't find him at all physically appealing. I'm not looking for some guy out of GQ, just someone that I might look at and think, "Yeah, I might like to sleep with that at some point in the future." Also, it's important to admit that I like what I call odd beauty. Something a little different about a guy's looks that makes him unique. And, I have kind of a thing for redheads. Having red hair doesn't make a guy cute, but it does make a cute guy cuter.

The fourth thing is that he seems to be going nowhere. He's happy just drifting along without any dreams or aspirations beyond beating COD for the millionth time. Me, I'm ambitious; I have dreams. If I were in a relationship with someone who wasn't, I know that I would constantly be nagging him about what he was planning to do next, or when he was going to do this or that. He would resent me, I would resent him. It's just my personality type.

No rednecks. One of my friends at work (let's name them Model and Married), Married, keeps telling me I need to find a country guy because I'm a country girl. What she doesn't realize is the being from the country and being redneck are two different things, so when she sees a redneck come in, she says, "What about him?" Now, I'm not against dating someone from the boondocks; I've lived my whole life in the sticks, but the difference is the amount of class. Yes, rednecks can be great guys, but that type is just not for me. i'm more of an indoors kind of girl. (Not that I won't go fishing/hiking/whatever, I just don't want to make a lifestyle of it.) Basically, if Jeff Foxworthy would classify you as a redneck, I'm not interested.

Also, no assholes. I'll be the first one to admit I can be a bitch, but I don't make a habit of it. So, I don't want to date an ass. Rudeness is unacceptable. And someone who is nice to me, but rude to the waitress is a Class A Asshat.

So, if that makes me picky, then I'm picky, but I won't apologize.