It is simply amazing the things you can find on the internet. Someone posted a link to this personal ad the other day, and it cracked me up.
One Bedroom Apartment Plus Boyfriend
I have a sunny bedroom in Noe Valley. I also have really cute legs. This will make sense in a second. I decided this place was feeling just too big, so I thought I would look for a roommate, and then I remembered that I was looking for a girlfriend too, so why don’t I just throw all my eggs in one basket and go for the whole Shibang. Kittenkaboodle. Ball of wax. Whatever. This might sound nuts, but I bet there is some lovely woman out there saying to herself, “GOD, I wish I could find a good man … with a full size refrigerator and new tile in the bathroom.” So here is the deal: You have a great smile and a heart of gold. And you also have curtain rods and hopefully a good floor lamp. I am 35, physically fit, have a good job, and the apartment has a living room and a good sized kitchen. I have an unusually high IQ, interesting sense of humor, and there is plenty of cabinet space in the pantry and good water pressure in the shower head. I am looking for someone who is sweet and honest and earnest (like me) and who likes to have presents made for her and have her pillow fluffed, and also would not mind making me a ham sandwich now and again. NOT because she HAS TO, but because she LOVES me. Like I love her. Which is why I would sit there and hold her hand while she cried for an hour about something that made absolutely no sense. And then I would get up and make HER a ham sandwich. And some soup. Then I would fix the water heater. Because I love her. Anyway, the apartment is close to shops. My best qualities are my exuberance for life, one-of-a-kind personality and kindness and compassion for others. I retain a certain cheerfulness and hopeful disposition, and I am even romantic like people were back in the days before the sexes weren't afraid to interact with each other – like when they would actually smile and say hi to each other – like in the 50s. Upon completion of a successful interview, please be prepared to provide a nominal deposit. You also have to sleep with me. Utilities included. Did I mention I like animals?
Haha! Sounds like a REAL CATCH, huh?
I've been Single Again for almost a week now. Five days. Well, in all the ways that count, for 89 days, and living alone for 73 days. But who's counting? It's about time to find myself a new man. Doncha think? After all, I'm a girl. I need a man to look out for me, right? Somebody to move the furniture so I can vacuum behind the sofa. (Oh wait, I can do that myself.) Someone to clean out my gutters. (Nah, I paid someone to do that.) Somebody to do my yard work. (Nope, I got that covered too.) Someone to keep my car in good running order. (No - I have a car with a 5/10 year warranty now.) Somebody to get my Christmas tree out of the attic. (I always did that myself anyhow.) Somebody to fill in the blank/whatever . Oh wait. I can probably do that myself too, call my daddy or my neighbors, or if all else fails, hire it done.
But then there's the part that I can't manage myself, or call on my daddy or the neighbors to do, or hire someone to do. (Arguably, I suppose I could hire it done, but I'm talking real stuff here, not the kind for hire.) There's the Emotional Stuff. The Companionship. The "Belonging". The Intimacy. The Love.
No matter how independent I am, or am learning again to be, there's nothing that quite takes the place of belonging with someone, and all that It entails. I do truly miss That. Quite frankly, it pisses me off that I no longer have It. I didn't even know I was missing It, or that I wanted It, until I found It again at fifty-something years old. And now I don't have It. And most likely won't ever have It again.
I wasn't in the market for a companion before he came along. Then like the kiss of Prince Charming that awakened Snow White, everything changed, and I realized I did want It. And now that The Prince bailed on me, and having It with him is no longer possible, yeah, I'm just pretty much pissed about it all.
I've tried this marriage thing three times now. Is there an unwritten law somewhere that says three strikes and you're out? No more wedded bliss? Well, no, I don't guess so. But I already felt kind of weird about being married a third time... much less DIVORCED a third time! So, while there's no written law that I can't be married a fourth time, for my own personal self, it just seems a ludicrous concept that I will not allow myself to even remotely entertain.
All that being said, it would appear that I have limited my options to just getting myself a boyfriend. A funny book I once read said that there are five kinds of men that every woman needs and wants. Finding all these qualities in one man is pretty rare. But you can't blame a girl for trying. Here's our dream man:
1. A man who can fix things
2. A man who can pay for things
3. A man you can dance with
4. A man you can talk to
5. (My blog is rated G, so I won't quote her directly on this last one, but you can probably figure it out on your own.)
Trouble is, there's slim pickins out there these days, and I'm not so sure there's one guy who has even two or three of these qualities, much less all five. At my age, I've added a 6th: Breathing.
I suppose I'll just wait for the invention of The Perfect, Programmable Boyfriend. The Clap-On / Clap-Off version would be even better.
But in the meantime, maybe I need to check out the guy who posted the ad. A tad young for me, but I do love a good ham sandwich!!
(Disclaimer for my mama: Seriously just kidding about the boyfriend thing!!!!)