I’m An Ass
I’m An Ass

I’m An Ass

I don’t mean that literally. What I mean is, I’m bullshitting. Last week I met my brother and a few hundred of his closest friends at Del Frisco’s for drinks. I brought Ade with me (my model friend–she hates when I call her that, by the way).

We parked in the lot across the street and as I’m irritatingly compelling the non-English speaking parking attendant to return my credit card, a cutish, sweetish, tallish man who is also compelling the non-English speaking parking attendant to do something, stops me.

“Wow”, he says. “Hi”, I say. He gives me some cheeseball line about thinking there must be a God and while I’m not buying it, I take his card and Ade and I move along with our evening.

Why am I bullshitting, you may be asking yourself? Cause I’m single and he was cute and seemed established, just a bit on the “I have no idea what to do with a woman like her” side. Needless to say, I haven’t placed a call or sent an e-mail. I simply look at his card every now and again with no action accomplished.

Am I being judgemental? Of course I am. For all the bulljank I talk about being open to new things and exploring what my type looks like, it seems as though bad superficial habits die hard for me. My ex–Aubrei’s dad (and artist type), was and is a complete ass to me. And yet, with as many chances that I’ve had to truly move on with some great guys (who are not artist types), I simply haven’t because I think I’m holding on to some intellectual bad boy standard that doesn’t exist. At least, I haven’t met any “intellectual” bad boys who haven’t gotten that vibe from a recent bid.

I think it’s that suburban girl in me who simply gets bored with who is supposed to be my type–you know–clean cut, clean shaven, clean car, california closet in his highrise penthouse overlooking Rittenhouse Square. I like artist, rapper, singer types who are erratic, whorish, and pointless in relationships. Go figure.

I’ve discovered first hand that while I may be attracted to the mysterious artist type, ala Vicky Christina Barcelona, that doesn’t mean the artist type is conducive to the lifestyle I am working so diligently to achieve. Ironically enough, I’m looking for peace, balance, substance, and a bit of stability. If not for me specifically, it’s for Aubrei. I also need passion and sexual tension, along with oh, I don’t know, maybe love and intimacy for good measure.

For whatever reason, I can project stability and what not on an artist who has none, but I can’t seem to project sexual tension onto the clean cut guy.

In Vicky Christina Barcelona, Vicky is the overly practical chica who is engaged to this total dork who adores her. This dude is wealthy and stable and shares her values and upbringing. Christina is the artsy, unstable, has no idea what she wants and is up for anything type of girl.

I’m supposed to be Vicky by the nature of my upbringing, but I seem to be channeling Christina with regard to my relationships. In the movie though, both Vicky and Christina end up falling in love with the irratic artist with the nut job ex wife, but that’s a movie and not at all my life. I want the artist type and stay away from them because I don’t want that hot mess around my child. I should want the stable type, but I stay away from them because they bore me to tears and I make them crazy.

Is there something wrong with me? Have I grown a tick in my personality that I can’t outgrow? Am I suffering from the female version of trying to make a hoe a housewife? What would that be called exactly? Is there any hope in my overcoming this impending chronic condition? I suppose, I could bite the bullet and maybe get to know somebody who is clearly not my “type”, and who may actually surprise me outside of my first impressions. I mean, I could actually give a brotha a chance and at least let him take me to dinner before I shoot him out of the park right? Logical? Yes. Fun? No. If I actually did with my romantic life what makes the most sense, what in the hell would I have to write about?

The moral to this story? As usual, I haven’t one. Just some food for thought. Thank you for reading this though. Peace and Abundant Blessings.-e-