Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Everyone Has a Type, Mine Is Bold Face

There's a building-sized poster up promoting Portland's lacross team. I have no idea what the name of this team is due to the fact that the advertisement largely consists of a very dopey-looking guy in the team jersey with the caption "actual size" in large bold letters. I guess that kind of tritely stupid advertising is still very relevant and cutting-edge in the sports world, where negro integration has finally settled down and women are still looked at as something funny to fill time in between real sports played by men.

But I digress.

LR and I were driving past this towering advertisement featuring a man who is not what I'd call intimidating even at 50 feet tall when this conversation began:

"Ugh, he's NOT cute."

"My friend Uzumaki loves that kind of guy, he's all over the huskular goofy sort." Uzumaki is a wonderfully crazy friend of many years who is currently dating a cop because you really do need special training to date certain personality types.

"I don't think I really have a type."

"Me either" I say. "Actually, I really do have a type. Pick the worst idea in the room and that's who I'm all over."

It sounds self-depracating but it's true. The only guys I have any real, strong, romantic connection with seem to be the ones that treat a relationship like it's a protracted war of attrition with occasional bloody skirmishes from time to time. I'm only happy in a relastionship when it's in constant flux and neither of us has any idea where it's heading or what the body count will be when it gets there.

Part of me worries that I'm too afraid of intimacy to really connect with someone that I can see myself happily retiring with someday. The sort of dangerously normal fellow who'll read you the news in the morning long after the thrill of sex has left the relationship.

The rest of me thoroughly enjoys a challange, and reels at the idea of ever being happily settled. To me stasis is a kind of living death. To be so completely connected to the minutia of my daily life that I'm always the exact same person from one day to the next scares me. I don't want to get to a point where I define who I am by my daily rituals and quiant IKEA furniture.

If this means that I can only date men who are proficient in four to five styles of hand-to-hand combat and know exactly how to disable an opponent within a few seconds then so be it. At least this way I won't get bored.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

The lacrosse player needs dental work... STAT!

10:48 AM, June 01, 2006  
Blogger Unknown said...

*whining* But I loooooove IKEA!!

2:45 PM, June 02, 2006  
Blogger Zeroes said...

[sprays Toddy in face with water bottle]

"NO! NO! BAD TODDY!"

"We do that OUTSIDE!"

6:22 PM, June 03, 2006  

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