So, I've talked about my kids, and my parents. I've rambled on about my book and writing. And I have even talked a little bit about jobs and the fact I need one.
But, I haven't really talked about me....The
real me!
Not the "me" who thinks about cutting her hair every other day, or wishes she could lose 10 pounds. Not the "me" who talks about how much she loves Dr. Pepper but tries not to drink it. Not the "me" who believes George Clooney will someday give up on her and marry a super model, already! Not even the "me" who proposes to John Cusack on Twitter when she has nothing else to say....No, believe it or not, the
real me actually knows John Cusack would never marry a girl who proposes on Twitter and that poor George is stuck-delusional even, in thinking this would all be given for him. (Please George, I beg of you! MOVE ON!)
No, I'm talking about the
real me. The one who deals with life everyday. The one who deals with the struggle and the stress. The one who budgets, cleans, taxi's, and cooks. The one doing the laundry, the dishes, the vacuuming, and the dusting. The one who counsels kids, gives advice and loans $5 for gas. The one who listens to her friend complain about her husband, daughter complain about her lovelife, and son complain that he's bored. The one who worries about her parents, frets about money, and occasionally contemplates really stalking John Cusack.
But, most importantly, I'm talking about the
real me!
The absolute
real me is the one who wakes up every morning and wonders if all this has been a dream and if there really is a gorgeous hunk of a man in her kitchen making Hazelnut coffee.
The real "me" wonders if men realize asking a girl "wanna ride my Harley sometime" is not the same as asking her on a date. She's the one who thinks that just once a guy could say "You are really pretty" instead of saying "Baby, you're so hot". The one who thinks a kiss goodnight is romantic and it doesn't make you less of a man if you try for just one.
The real "me" who wonders if she will ever find that one she is supposed to be with forever. (Sit down, George! It is NOT you! See? He's obsessed!)
Here's some thoughts from the
real me...
The real me doesn't want to get married. I have been down that road a time or two (or three). It's safe to say,
I don't like husbands.
I don't want to take care of someone. I have enough trouble taking care of myself.
I don't need someone to take care of me. That is just damn scary and men are too fickle...they change their mind and, poof, I'm livin' in a box! No thanks!
I am not looking for a souvenir to drag to family parties that my brothers can wrestle with. I am, however, interested in drinking a beer or two with my father and if someone were there to open the bottle, that would be great!
Not looking for someone to mow the grass, drive the boat, or man the grill. But, if he happens to HAVE a lawn mower, OWN a boat and can bring his own grill, that, too, would be great.
Not looking for a guy to clean my gutters, repair leaking faucets, or figure out what that noise in the furnace is...I have a landlord for that, but if he wants to kill a spider, change a lightbulb on the porch, or pump my gas, that would be super!
Also, not looking for someone to cook for everyday, pick up after, or feed their ego.
Not looking to cater to, explain to, or justify the actions of me or my kids. We are who we are. Not perfect. Not exciting. Not rich. Not famous. Not at all.
Doesn't have to be an Einstein or anything. Doesn't need to have his face in a book at all times. But it is helpful that he knows what a book is and may actually be kinda cool if he has read one, in say, the last 20 years or so.
Don't want him to cry in a Kodak commercial or anything but a little sentiment goes a long way. Like if the Mayhem guy does anything at all for him, I am good with that.
I don't want him to live in his mother's basement or anything, but he needs to at least know her first and last name and occasionally speak to her. And "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number doesn't count." And while we are at it, "Hey You, there is something I need to discuss about that time in the 4th grade..." is pretty much a deal breaker, too.
Don't want someone I can beat up but don't want President of the WWE either.
Don't want a guy who calls his time in witness protection, his stint in prison, or his unemployment "a vacation".
Don't want a guy who lives in a bar, at his job, in his car, above someone's garage, in my garage, on my couch, or in a storage facility he has converted into an efficiency apartment. He doesn't have to own his own home, but he can't make me hide under a blanket and pretend he's not there if his landlord knocks on the door.
If we are in a relationship and he refers to our intimate moments as "hittin' it", "bangin'" or any other colorful, slang use of vulgarity- he can bet I will tell his friends I broke up with him because he couldn't "bang it" effectively!
(Which, in my experience of the men who use those phrases, well, I would not be lying.)
Tattoos in moderation are fine, but not as a substitute for clothes and self portraits, Nazi symbols and anything they can make dance is not attractive.
Well, by now, you are asking "where is she getting all of this?" Believe or not, from experience.
Yes, I have met most of these men and even married a couple of them. It has not been pretty. Now, of course not all of this is without imagination or exaggeration. I mean, even I realize by now, that George is not giving up.
But, you may also be asking what does the
real me want?
That is a loaded question. I will try to answer.
I want the old fashioned thing. The guy who talks and listens. The guy who loves me from the inside out. The guy who thinks about me all day. The guy who tells his friends about me. The guy who remembers those silly things I like.
Doesn't exist?
Oh, it does. Granted - He married my mom! But, any whoooo, a girl can dream!
And what am I willing to give?
All of who I am. A single mother of five who thinks about cutting her hair and losing 10 pounds while smoking, writing, reading, eating, singing, dreaming, wishing, hoping and praying. A woman who proposes to John Cusack regularly and would leave you in a heartbeat if he ever took her up on it. A Grammy who thinks her grandkids are way cuter than her first generation kids, and would hate you til your death if you ever even thought about hurting any of them. A girl at heart who thinks her dad is the best man on the planet. A karaoke, bar-hating junkie, a book loving, non-library card holding geek, an unemployed workaholic, a published, unknown author, a starving writer, a poet, a flutist, a painter, a photographer, and her kids' friend.
A sister, an aunt, a daughter, a granddaughter, a niece, a cousin, an ex-wife, an ex-girlfriend, a former co-worker, a former boss, a former employee, and a former student.
A blogger, a Twit(terer), a Stumbler, a Scrabble lover, a coffee addict, a best friend, and a trivia buff. A lover of Elton John, Eva Cassidy, The Cranberries, and Ellen! Someone who likes black and white movies and oldies music, believes in Santa, wants to be an elf, and lives for Christmas! One who cries in sad movies, at the end of Frosty the Snowman and during fireworks. One with Christmas traditions she won't give up, superstitions she doesn't falter from, and a collection of ugly chairs her kids try to throw away.
A simple woman who is grateful for what she has, unapologetic for what she doesn't, proud of who her kids have become and excited for who they have yet to be, confident in the choices she has made and ready for those to come.
So, until then I just wake up every day and wonder....WHAT IF there was a gorgeous guy in my kitchen making Hazelnut coffee? Oh hell, I would have to get up!
Just bring me the coffee!
Until next time,
Kimberly
