Swampwater Debutante

(HA. THIS ONE WAS ON THE LIST.)

So! Let’s get that previous entry off the front page whilst sort of addressing one of the topics brought up in it: A boyfriend and how I haven’t got one, but would like one.

Don’t get me wrong. Obviously I can survive without a boyfriend. Actually, it seems like my odds of survival actually INCREASE without one, if we are judging by my last relationship, which I totally am. Life without a pesky boyfriend=pretty all right.

Except…I don’t know. Sometimes it would be nice not to go to sleep alone. Sure, there are the cats, who it must be said are much like a man in how they hog the bed and the covers and complain when I try to move. But they are also pointy and occasionally poop on the floor, and I would like a bed companion who does NOT do these things, is what I am saying.

Also when I come home from work, the cats do not give a shit about my day and never offer to fetch me a glass of wine, those selfish bitches. Instead they shove their heads into whatever bag is holding my dinner and then howl at me to give them the deliciousness therein. Which reminds me of the biggest reason I tend to eat largely vegetarian when at home: SELF FUCKING DEFENSE.

So anyway. Boyfriend. I vaguely sometimes want one. And I’m not interested in any of the guys I currently know. Not that they are not decent specimens in their own right, they just aren’t the sort that do anything but make me laugh and ply me with alcohol. Oh, and most of them are married or gay. So.

This means my friends have to reach out of our circle into their other circles and see if there’s any interesting merchandise to be had for Lissa. So to speak. But they’re stumped. One, there’s so few guys out there. Two, I seem to require specific…I don’t know. Handling?

I am the kind of feminist that super hardcore feminists hate. My hometown is small and Southern (raise your hand if you’d heard of Westlake, Louisiana BEFORE you started reading here). My upbringing was chaotic – I’m a Navy brat. My dad cheated on my mom and when she left him she had to basically start over. As a result, I am a conundrum.

I like having doors opened for me, but I don’t want to be a full time housewife. I like cooking for my partner (for a mostly vegetarian, I make a legendary meatloaf), but sometimes I’d like him to do dishes, only because I HATE doing dishes. I dig the gentle arts of knitting and baking, but I cuss like the sailor’s daughter I am and I like some Kung-Fu movies. I am a small time Rennie actress and singer whose partners simply have to understand that having dollar bills shoved down my cleavage while I sing dirty songs is a JOB.

I like flowers. It’s nice to get flowers.

And I will never be completely dependent on any man. Further, sometimes I require my space.

I don’t NEED a boyfriend, and frankly the very idea of trying to trust anyone is pretty terrifying. I mean panic attack level terrifying. I whimper at the thought, I’m not kidding.

But I’m LONELY.

One may enjoy being alone, but no one ever enjoys being lonely. Anyone who says they do is one badly written manifesto and a cheap pair of sunglasses away from blowing shit up. That is not so much my thing.

So no. Lonely, I dislike.

I dunno. I miss having someone to cook for. To open doors for me. Someone to trade driving duty with when I’m going to Lake Chuck for the holidays! Someone to watch movies with, to sometimes snuggle with, someone to knit socks for. Someone who’ll bring me aspirin and kiss me on the forehead when I don’t feel well, who will sometimes bring me roses because I like them, who doesn’t mind my freak-ass cats. Someone who doesn’t mind my cussing.

I want neither a master nor a submissive bitch boy. I don’t at all think that chivalry and equality must be mutually exclusive. I’m okay if you appreciate my boobs – they’re kind of awesome, shame for them to go to waste – if you also understand and appreciate my sizeable brain.

Also, I am 32. Any guy I date will be presumably around that age or older. Do I have to call you boyfriend? I am not into dating boys. I did that. Wasn’t all giggles and Irish Car Bombs. Would like a man, please.

Kate says I need someone who has all the best qualities of all my ex-boyfriends and male friends with very few of the bad (and certainly none of the bad that The Sociopath possessed). Trouble is, we don’t know where to find such a guy.

Especially one who likes his ladies a little…you know. Fluffy. I love going to the gym, but I think I’ll always be zaftig. So that is, well, what it is.

I’m simultaneously trying to resign myself to being single forever, and fighting against it. I don’t know what will win.