Protected: Sunday Morning Walks of Shame. March 9, 2008
Things We Share November 18, 2007
We all share the same three ex-boyfriends:
1. The great love.
2. The fun to fight with.
3. The jerky passionate one.
We all share the same regrets:
1. Not telling him.
2. Telling him too much.
3. Letting him get away with it.
We all share a break-up routine:
1. New playlist.
2. New hair.
3. Old dirty jeans.
It isn’t like that anymore. November 15, 2007
I’ve found myself becoming more attracted to a man’s health insurance plan than his McDreamy hair or Zach Braff-ian charm.
Clearly, I watch too many medical TV shows.
Remember when you liked someone for them? I know, that’s the goal our mothers try to give us: find someone who loves you for you. Find someone you love as they are.
But it isn’t like that anymore.
Tolerate who they are, enjoy some things about them, yes.
Just as important: Their extras.
We’re not just looking for a rich family. In fact, most women are smart enough to know that a rich family is as dangerous and emotionally trying as they are beneficial.
Now I want a low co-pay, a decent prescription plan.
Now I can deal with dull at parties if I can trade in for does the grocery shopping on his way home from work.
Now I know I can slowly improve his passive agression, and I am willing to climb that hill for battle, so long as you have no debt other than college loans.
How my mother would smile and shake her head. I don’t love him for who he is because I am looking past who he is, ready to change who he is.
We can have disparate taste in movies, I can even hate your taste in movies, if your job gives you a company car we can take road trips in.
These are just sample trades.
Now I know, after being in several weddings, to ask on the first date if your parents drink, or at least don’t condemn it. If you have the parents who don’t want beer at their son’s wedding, then a first date is as far as we need to go.
When she tells me, my mom, that I am going about this the wrong way, I’ll remind her of who my dad used to be, before I knew him, before he knew what she was worth. Worth selling the sports car for something family friendly. Worth commuting to work so she’d be close to her job.
Men have been making the trades, determining the value of changing something, sticking with something, persuring something, moving the tangible around so that the intangible (the love, the sugar, the sweetness and goop) comes at the smallest cost and provides a good return.
So, tell me, do you need a referral to specialist?