I've been single for a while now – two years last month. I've never really been single before, at least not in any way that counted. If you don't have time to get lonely, or remember how cool it is not to be nagged, it doesn't count.
I remember the exact day on which I became single. This has everything to do with my freakishly good memory, and absolutely nothing to do with anything else at all, honestly, I swear.
|I got all girly and wrote that sh*t down in my diary. Hells yeah.|
Now, as you may as have noticed, I'm hot. I'm not just hot, I'm smokin' hot. I'm so hot, if you're not wearing shades right now, I suggest you see a doctor. You may have suffered serious retinal damage.
|Don't look. -- NASA|
So, just so we're clear, it's not my lack of hotness that stands between me and true love. As may you have guessed, I have my reasons. Now, let's take those reasons, and make a list!
1) I Refuse to Groom and Dress a Grown Man
A couple of weeks ago, some guy I know was moaning about the hardships of the single male life. “I have to trim my own nose hairs now,” he lamented.
I wasn't sure if he was talking about the hairs inside of, or on top of, his nose, but I'm pretty sure he was serious. “What?!” I said.
“Yeah, that's the best thing about having a girlfriend, you don't have to cut your own toenails or anything.”
Now, either I'm doing something wrong, or he is. This particular guy has got to be twenty years older than me, so maybe it's a generational thing. Come to think of it, Grandma did used to rub salve on Granddad's feet every night.
I've had boyfriends in the past who expected me to buy their clothes and even select their outfits. “I'm crap at fashion,” they'd say. The thing is, no one cares about fashion, unless they're sixteen, mind-bogglingly rich, working in the fashion industry, or all three. Ordinary people have no use for fashion. It's as simple as this: buy a shirt, buy some pants. Buy trousers if you're British. Put them on. One hole per button, shoes come last. Voilà, you're ready to leave the house.
2) I Will Groom and Dress Myself as I Please, Thank You Very Much
This one probably ties in with the last one. If a dude expects me to purchase and configure his outfits, he probably expects to wield similar privileges over me. Not so.
No one wants to hear, “You're wearing that?” If you're claiming you can't dress yourself, what makes you think you can dress me?
Statements such as “You can't wear that because it makes guys look at your tits/ass/legs” are equally inappropriate, if not more so. If your woman looks hot, she looks hot for you, a**hole. If you think otherwise, you need therapy.
I once dated a guy who asked me to stop plucking my eyebrows. I mean, you know, that's kind of an odd request. Asking that I shave (or not shave), my legs, for instance, would not strike me as unusual. But my eyebrows? Those are on my face. Everyone sees my face.
“I like the all-natural look,” he said. Oh, yeah? I like not having a uni-brow. It's my face. The eyebrows stay, the mustache goes. Deal with it.
3) Screw You, Boost Your Own Damn Ego
I'm not after fawning and telling you how smart, handsome, talented and generally wonderful you are two hundred times a day. That's not to say I'm going to wake up in the morning, roll over and say, “Hey there, you fat sack of sh*t, fancy a f*ck?” But there's a limit. Don't be insecure.
4) I Will Not Pretend to Be Stupid
I'm smart. Like, really smart. I probably come off as one of those people who's got to rub in how smart she is. I keep answering rhetorical questions with actual, honest-to-God answers. When I watch documentaries, I know what they're going to say before they say it. I use a lot of long words, like “defenestrate.”
|It means, "to throw out the window." -- mtarlock|
I won't dumb down my vocabulary. Maybe you could learn some new words. I won't listen patiently and nod while you spout some bullsh*t. If you're wrong and I know it, I'm going to say so. I might even have a valid counter-argument, backed up by facts, if I'm lucky. If that “makes you feel stupid,” it's probably because you are.
|I'm not letting you win at Scrabble, either. -- benketaro|
5) No, I Can't 'Tone it Down a Little'
A lot of guys judge my character on the basis of an hour's acquaintance, or, even worse, on the basis of some emails and IM chats. Yes, I can be quiet and shy, and sometimes, I can even be demure (if you see it, take a picture). Obviously, I'm more likely to be quiet and shy with someone I don't know. I'm not a bubbly person. The more you get to know me – well, the more you get to know me. I'm foul-mouthed and strong-headed, I drink hard and heckle the band. I am what I am, and that's all I that I am.
|Now, pass me the spinach.|
6) If You're Going to Criticize My Housekeeping, You'd Damn Well Better Be Living in My House
I once had a fling with a neighbor who'd come over and tell me to vaccuum, or wash the dishes, or take out the trash, or toss the leftovers. So, maybe I'm a slob, but F*CK OFF. We weren't even serious. It only lasted a week, and he still had time to squeeze in all that nagging.
|Or maybe I'm just that much of a slob? -- bandita|
Even if we were serious, you'd better be holding up your end of things, cause otherwise I will tell you get off your ass and do it yourself. If you're looking for someone who will cook and clean and do the dishes and the laundry and pick up after you and make your appointments and shop and drive you to work and clean the toilet and scrub the bath and mop the floors and dust your friggin' collection of whatever the hell it is you collect, you're shopping at the wrong market.
|This market sells smart b*tches with two eyebrows.|