My friend Dee believes that her dream man is at home reading a book. Some night, when we’re sitting outside admiring the sunset at Spanish Bay, he will come strolling in and sweep her off her feet. He will be tall, wear nice shoes, and have a great voice. He won’t be wearing white tennis shoes with jeans, have hair that sticks up, or swear. These are just a few of her deal-breakers. She is picky and I guess she has a right to be. She’s blonde and gorgeous.
Another gal I know didn’t like the way her boyfriend laughed.
“He sounds like a frog,” she said.
I could see that he adored her and had a heart of gold along with a few other unmentionable attributes. From what I hear, they are still together. Kermit got lucky.
(I actually think that she did too.)
As we get a little older, we might be willing to overlook a few things or annoying habits. I guess it’s relative. But does he cheat or just throw his towel on the floor? Does she take two hours to put her face on or is she unrecognizable in the morning? We might be willing to compromise within a relationship, but speaking for myself and countless other gray singles I know, we don’t seem to be willing to settle just to have “someone.”
When I want chocolate, Jello doesn’t work for me. I might take a test bite, but my cravings will eventually take over. You can be sure that my mouth will be watering and I’ll be fantasizing until I get my hot little hands on it (chocolate, that is…keep it clean, people). And I’m a carnivore. When I smell meat, I want it. So it is with us humans. As babies, we pointed and screamed until someone gave us what we wanted. As adults, we look, salivate, and figure out a way to get it ourselves. But we want what we want and as we get older, we know a lot more about what that is. I won’t be totally happy with a Volkswagen if I visualize myself in a Ferrari. I might drive it, but that picture of me behind the wheel in Jackie-O sunglasses will be burned in my imagination.
So let’s think specifics, details, positive thinking, and “The Secret.” If we can dream it, we can have it.
“Put that extra setting at the table and he’ll be having dinner with you!” my friend promised. (Maybe there is such a thing as man-ifestation after all, but dinner’s getting cold, Honey!)
I’ve heard rumors that George Clooney has a home in the Carmel Highlands. I hope that he isn’t reading “War and Peace,” because I’ll be waiting and watching the sunset.
He’ll be tall, just like in the movies, wear nice shoes, and speak to me in that great voice. And let’s put him in that “Ocean’s 11” white tux. (Hey, it’s my dream and I can have it any way I want it. Plus, my table is already set!)
I just hope he likes brunettes.
Copyright 2007 Robyn Justo
