I’m really bad at this. Making lists.
“Wake up.” Indeed.
One of the first lists I ever made and tried to take seriously was the kind of man I wanted to marry. Of course, when you’re seven years old, you don’t realize that you can’t conjure up a dreamboat based on a *Top 10 list.
Love doesn’t work like that…I’m assuming.
And men, are notoriously stubborn.
Whittling down the important, biological task of pair-bonding to a list is especially futile when you’re picky as hell — and generally can’t stand people for any length of time.
Also, fun fact: I wound up with someone the complete opposite of this list, except for the important parts. So, FML.
- The man of my dreams can make me laugh so hard I will shit my pants, and then,
- he wouldn’t care. He’s not hung up on proper etiquette. If I fart or burp in public, oh well. Nothing would dash that look of love in his crinkly eyes.
- He’s kind. He can’t help himself. He will always lead with his heart, when his head barks, “scrape ’em off, Claire!” We’ll take care of the world, together.
- He has a good head for business. He’s the smartest one in the room, but you’d never know it, because
- he’s also humble, the last to think highly of himself. He’s too busy focused on finding…
- solutions to problems that arise to bother with vanity. His love language is going out there, putting his head down, and fixing shit that’s broken.
- He’s genuinely interested in what you have to say, whether you’re me or the ex-veteran down the street who finds himself down on his luck.
- He doesn’t bother with fashion. Materialism, status symbols, designer labels gross him out. He’s usually in worn-out jeans and a t-shirt, keeps his nails short, clean, unfussy. The thought of a manicure fills him with terror.
- He doesn’t smoke, do drugs, or even drink much. He can’t stand the smell of cancer sticks. He’s healthy overall, but occasionally indulges in foodie adventures, like me.
- He chews with his mouth closed and suffers from the same form of misophonia as me about people smacking their lips and humming or singing while they eat. But he’s not a jerk about it.
I actually excerpted my Top 10 from a larger list, including my preferred physical traits. Some of them might surprise you.
- Tall. Almost freakishly so. Basketball player tall. Gangly, awkward, clumsy, boy next door tall.
- Freakish. Serial killer-psycho vibe. He scares off all the girls who are into pretty boys and jocks, because they want what every other lemming wants: Brad Pitt. (YUCK.) Give me Silas from “Da Vinci Code,” or Commodus from “Gladiator” any day. I’m not attracted to the violence; I’m attracted to the fact that he’s different from the rest, unexpected, raw and real.
- All the girls go for the face. And, to a certain extent, I do too, but in a different way. (See freak show above.) I’m drawn to the combination that may be slightly asymmetrical, yet, in the right circumstances — when he smiles at me — buckles my knees. Andre Braugher. Mark King in that Level 42 “Something About You” music video. Tucker Carlson. Amphibian Man from “The Shape of Water.” I once fell hard for a skinny, bespectacled oddball everyone made fun of when I was in 7th grade. William spent most of his free time up in a tree searching for alien life in the night skies. Swoon!
OT PS. Can someone invent a cup that can keep coffee hot for longer than five minutes? I’m tired of drinking my brew cold.