Mauve Momma #7

After discussing this with my beloved PF, I have come to the conclusion that I am easy.

Or at least, that I have very few dating dealbreakers. Not money, or cars, or height, or even body hair- I've seen it all. (ALL!). But I will quickly run down the four turnoffs that came to mind first.

1) Being skinny. This is my number one, ultimate dealbreaker. Most evolutionary rationales for mate selection amuse me, but this one is my weakness. I love a sturdy, cuddly guy- or as my high school boyfriend put it: "You're a chubby chaser." Please do not tell PF that I said he was fat- he isn't. But I like to be hugged, and held, and when PF hugs me, I'm warm all the way around. So skinny guys never had a chance.

2) Being blond. I have no rationale for this. It's some genetic level preference. The gene didn't extend to only liking Latino men, which would make some sense; it got as far as hair color and quit. I can admit that Brad Pitt or Justin Timberlake are fine physical specimens, but they'll have to wait in the other room while I jump Enrique Iglesias or Usher. Skin color isn't part of it, either: PF (who bears a striking resemblance to Jake Gyllenhaal), is so white I lose him when it snows in Chicago, but he's got a healthy head of dark brown hair, so he's safe.

3) Being anti-intellectual. PF asked me about insufferable pseudo-intellectuals, and I had to say- no, no, I gave some of them a chance to impress me with their quasi-beatnik poetry and deep thoughts about the future of the stanza. The only thing that's an actual turnoff is a guy who is both ignorant and somehow pleased with himself; who somehow thinks sports, movie, and pop culture knowledge is all any person needs to be in command of to have a good conversation with me. That'll be cool for a while, buddy, but sooner or later, I'm going to ask you what you think about Kerry's campaign tactics or the stunt the administration is pulling with the health coverage lottery, and when the blank face goes up, I'm out.

4) Having lame excuses for being unromantic. It is here that I have to totally disagree with Ivory Angel, who is otherwise a fabulous writer. Romance isn't fake, cheesy, or something that only exists in movies. It has to do with showing someone that you thought about them. And I can't stand a man who has his pre-prepared frontline excuses about how he can totally eschew romance because he's fighting the commercialism of it all, or because he respects that I'm an independent feminist woman so much that he wouldn't dare give me a flower, cook for me, or sing me a song. Please.

I don't want a business partnership, I want passion. I don't want to split the bill or figure out that if I make X amount more than you, I should pay 73% of our relationship costs. We'll take turns. This time I'll plan a dinner and movie date and pay. Next time, maybe you'll have a dessert and wine waiting when I come home. Or something, anything you like that you thought of yourself. That's what I want. So when I've come across those guys who are quick to pre-empt your expectations of caring (not even one-sided chivalry) with their weak anti-capitalist or quasi-feminist lines, I cross them off. I guess IA and I fish in different parts of the sea. A nice guy is welcome here.

Alas, I must go see if I can trick PF into rubbing my neck for the thousandth time. Hooray!