The Perfect Man

David Bell was my very first crush. It was kindergarten at Chambers Elementary in Houston. He was in my class and he was perfect. David Bell was everything a five year old girl could want in a five and a half year old boy: never ate glue, never picked his nose, nice to girls, had brown hair to match his deep brown eyes, and he had two perfectly placed dimples that lit up the room when he smiled. I hearted him immensely. Of course I never made this known. And I'm sure that he never noticed me staring at him awkwardly and then quickly jerking my head in the other direction when he looked back at me...multiple times throughout the day. Actually, now that I think about it, I wonder if he remembers me as "that girl in kindergarten who may have had tourettes". Needless to say, we never spoke to each other. I guess I was waiting for that perfect moment with the right words to say, and then we would become the "it" couple of Chambers Elementary. Having a boyfriend in kindergarten was the best because it meant the boy let the girl have his turn on the swings. So I really wanted him to like me.

Then the perfect opportunity came in the form of the Valentines Day school recital. David Bell was chosen to sing "Let Me Call You Sweetheart". Not only to sing it, but to sing it wearing a suit, holding a rose, and to a girl sitting on a stool. The best part was at the end of the song he would kiss the girl on the cheek! I was estatic. This would be my perfect moment. Not only was I a girl, I had cheeks, and no one could sit on a stool better than I could (just ask my parents). A handful of girls and I "auditioned" for the part of sweetheart. I was focused and determined to be the chosen one. Evidentally so was the short girl in the seat in front of me. She had a bad bob hair cut, wore knee high socks, and her glasses were thick enough to serve as coasters. I don't know what happened or why the teacher hated me so much, but 'bad bob hair cut' girl was chosen over me. I was placed in a chorus for some song I don't remember. What I do remember is being backstage, watching my David Bell sing my song to 'thick coaster glasses' girl, giving her my rose, and then kissing her on what should have been my cheek. I was devastated. And although it wasn't his fault - I was done with my first perfect guy. David Bell has the honor of being my first crush and my first heartache.

I did not let this heartache make me bitter and turn me into the middle school girl with all the cats. I rose above, and found love again. Their names were William Katt, Hans Solo, and Charles Ingalls (not the actual Charles Ingalls, the one played by Michael Landon). And yes, really: William Katt from The Greatest American Hero. I fell in love with his curly golden locks of hair, his sense of humor, and the way he rocked those red tights. Unfortunately the show was canceled after three seasons, so I had to end that relationship. But then Hans Solo came into my life. He was perfect because he always kept his cool, had snappy come-backs, and knew how to fly cool ships. Plus he wasn't near as whiny as Luke. I tried to be all Princess Leia and do the two bun thing. It was not successful, but I did try. Along with my hotties William Katt and Hans, I fell in love with Charles Ingalls. He embodied everything I thought a perfect man to be. That man knew his Bible, could chop some wood, fight outlaws, and passionately kiss Carolyn Ingalls all in one episode. Perfection.

Looking back as an adult it seems these three have little in common. And if these childhood crushes are to serve as a map to what I'm looking for in a man today - it's no wonder I'm still single at thirty-four. Evidentally I like men who can quote scripture while they build log cabins wearing a red unitard and have awkwardly hairy freinds. I gotta tell you - those kind of men are hard to come by.

All that said, I am not on a quest for the perfect guy. It wouldn't be fair because I am far from the perfect girl. I'm actually sort of a mess. A fun-loving, charming mess; but still a mess. In fact, I have broken two bones in my body: my right arm in 3rd grade, and my left leg in 2007. Both times were because I was trying something stupid to impress a boy. Neither were impressed by the way. Therefore, what you see is what you get; I'm running out of limbs (my apologies to any future potential manfriend).

A man I dated shortly awhile back once asked me, "what do you want?" We had been discussing our relationship status or if there even was a relationship to have as a status. The question caught me off guard. It had been awhile since I really thought about what I wanted, and I thought it'd be awkward if I blurted out, "William Katt". Also, there had never been a list for what constituted 'a perfect guy' or 'the guy I want'. If I had to make one I guess it might look like this:

• fidelity
• not a serial killer
• lets me have the last piece of pizza
• shows interest 
• will tell me about his day, and let me tell him about mine

I fumbled around with my actual answer and can't even really remember what I said. But by the end of the conversation he expressed he wasn't ready to be exclusive and I just wanted some coffee - so that didn't really work out.

I do have a reputation of being a romantic. My ex manfriend used to joke that all I did was day dream about unicorns and rainbows all day. Which, in my defense, is not the worst thing in the world to day dream about. Rainbows happen to be very pretty and unicorns are mystical creatures. I also love a good romantic comedy and most power ballads; I just can't help myself. And indeed, if you were to ask me what I wanted two or three years ago, I probably would have answered "I want love". But I've realized I already have an abundance of love. There is an incredible group of people in my life who love me, even when I don't make it easy. It has been this group of people who listen to me  without judgement, pray for me continously, and encourage me when I'm down. I am surrounded by love. There is no shortage of it in my life. And for me to think that I am somehow lacking because I don't have a "someone special" is a disservice to them and to myself.

The truth is I don't believe in soul mates as far as 'there is one particular person out there for each of us and the universe is working throughout our lives to bring us together'. Basically I don't believe in the movie Serendipty (although I love it and will watch it anytime it's on TNT; and Gladiator, I watch Gladiator every time it's on TNT. But I'm getting off subject). I don't believe that there is a "one" out there for each of us. If we meet someone and like being around them and are willing and have the desire to put in the effort to keep that person in our lives (as long as they are putting in the same amount of effort), then at the point of making that commitment - of saying "I do" - that person then becomes our soul mate. I also believe that sometimes we don't meet someone, or things don't work out. Not all of us end up with a great romantic love story. And I think that is just fine. Being single is no tragedy, and actually has a lot of perks. Especially around tax season when I get to claim 'head of household'.

Now don't take all this as me rejecting the idea of being in a relationship, or knocking romance. I have been in love before. And it was great. Although it didn't work out, I have no regret or bitterness about the time I had with him. Not to get all "inspirational facebook post" on you; but I truly believe love is the greatest thing we have to give. I feel lucky to have had the opportunity to love him, and would never change feeling that way.
And as an aside: if you love someone you should tell them. Even if they may not love you. Because time is too short and precious to waste on fear or insecurity. I think everyone deserves to know if they are loved, even if those feelings are not recipocated.

If I was asked today, "what do you want?" from a relationship, my answer would be "simplicity". I don't have to have fireworks or be swept off my feet. Some of the best examples in my life of 'good couples' are the quiet ones. The couples who talk to each other and can be themselves around each other, who realize every fight isn't the end of the world, who can roll their eyes at the other's annoying quirks and move on, who realize they are not in the relationship to complete the other but to advocate for them - those are the ones I know will make it. That is the kind of relationship I want - simple, equal, and selfless. And if you were to ask me what kind of man I want, the above list still stands with maybe the addition of the following:

• truthful
• is not a Kid Rock fan
• puts forth effort
• wonderfully flawed
• lets me be wonderfully flawed

And if he happens to know the words to the song "Let Me Call You Sweetheart"; well that'd be almost perfect.

Oh-oh Here She Comes...She's a Job Hunter

I'm job hunting. It's such a tedious process. First you actually have to look to see who is hiring; then you have to put on paper why you're the best person ever in the world to hire; followed by having to decide if red is really an intimidating color to wear on an interview and "oh crap" I don't own anything navy which experts say is a soothing color and the best to wear which means I'll come across as a very non soothing individual whose red blouse screams "I am intimidating and unapproachable and will slash your tires if you don't give me a job immediately followed by a raise!!" which isn't true because I am the least intimidating person I know - all you gotta do is have one thing in common with me and laugh at one of my jokes and I'll love you forever - and I wear red because it goes fantastic with my skin tone opposed to navy which does nothing for me. Whew. See. It is very tedious and very stressful. And maybe I should stay in retail forever.

But I can't. It's time to find something new, to do something else. It has been time for a while. There's a reason a comfort zone is comforting. Unfortunately comfort doesn't always equal happiness or being fulfilled. This has been quite the lesson for me.

My resume is all set. It's quite good I should say. The hard part is just getting in the door and then, once in, being impressive. Interviews are like a first date but without the free dinner or the potential for make-out time (of course, that depends on what kind of job you're interviewing for).

When I was the manager at AE I had to review numerous applications and conduct the interviews. I loved it. One applicant put down his reason for quiting his last job after two months as 'road trip'. My favorite applicant was the guy who wanted to apply for assistant manager. Under 'Position Desired' he wrote 'Ass. Man.'. Although very tempting, I didn't hire him. My friend, Amy Jo, interviewed this poor guy whose mother insisted on sitting in on it. She ended up answering all of the questions with her son just sitting there nodding his head.

Don't worry. I'm not going to bring my mom to any interviews I may get. But if I have to use the kids to get a sympathy hire - I'm not above that. We've practiced the pathetic "please sir/ma'am, hire my mommy so we can eat" look. But, that's only if I get desperate.

Of course, with looking for something new comes all the insecurities. When I first worked at the law firm with ex-manfriend the fax machine was the scariest thing in the world; and how the hell do you figure out which direction to place the paper to be faxed? And why do I keep answering the fax line? And when will I stop printing the addresses on the envelopes upside down? And did ex-manfriend say he was taking calls or not taking calls? I figured it out eventually. But not before I began to wonder if my skill set was limited to catering to high-maintenance women and whiny tweens.

I wish I could be honest about that during an interview:
"True. I have no experience with this. But, I will show up everyday and work my ass off for you and if you give me a little bit of time I'll be the best decision you've made."

Honesty like that doesn't get you hired. That said, I was more likely to hire the kid who said "I just really need the money" when I asked why they wanted to work at AE. They showed up more than the kid who said BS like, "well, I've always liked the style of AE and think it's a great company blah blah blah...".

So, wish me luck. Insecurities and navy pant suits be damned.

586,901 Easy Steps To a Better You!!

There are certain times of the year when I decide I need to better myself. Immediately after, I realize that will take work and I'm probably as good as it's going to get - so I just abandon the whole thought. But, now that I've graduated from big girl school I feel the need to get off my bloomin arse and do something - to be something.

So I did a little research. Research, of course, meaning I googled some things while watching a House marathon. It's amazing what pops up when you type in steps to a better you. For one thing, when you click on 'images', most of them are of people looking at the ocean at sunrise or people on top of the mountain with their hands up in the air. I didn't realize a body of water could do so much. I wonder if Lake Maumelle counts? Do I have to go at sunrise? Because that is really early - like before 9:00am. And if I climb Pinnacle, do I have to put my hands in the air for a better life? Because I'll probably be a little winded.

As far as the lists goes the norm is seven steps. Only seven things to accomplish to better your life! How easy is that? We should all have the best lives ever. There was one site that gives just five steps on how to stop talking in a monotone voice. And then there are the over achievers who give ten to thirty steps to a better you. I figured those must be for those who have really hit rock bottom. Not for me. I'm a seven stepper for sure. Although now I wish I spoke in a monotone voice so I would only have five steps to a better life. Damn my colorful voice inflections!

Then there are the magazine steps to follow. Cosmopolitan has a riveting 'how to' be a tiger in bed and make him purr with pleasure- in just seven easy steps! Although, I think just showing up usually does the trick. But that wasn't one of steps, so I could be wrong. Glamour has 101 ways to have better sex. Again, I think just showing up gets the job done. Thinking about 101 ways to do anything just makes me want to take a nap. That said, thank God for women's magazines. Without them how would women ever feel empowered and as more than sex objects?

The funny thing is, in all these 'how tos' (and by all I mean the four I "researched") none of them listed get moving or get off the couch as the first step. Shouldn't that be the most important one? After all isn't that the biggest problem most of us have - getting started? Most of us are not dumb. We know what needs to be done. We know how to manage money, how to lose weight, how to take better care of ourselves; that's not the problem. The problem is we just don't want to get started. Most of us just sit on the side lines hoping, praying that if we want it bad enough then it will just happen. Then we have the audacity to wonder why life is so unfair when it nothing happens at all.

We'll watch silly movies like Eat Pray Love and think "if only I could get to Italy or Bahli, things will get so much better." The fact is - if you can't make it work in Arkansas or where ever you are now - you won't make it work in a foreign country. Because there are plenty of places to get fat where you are. And the beauty of God is you can pray where ever you are and it's good enough. And love? Well, love is easy. Stop getting caught up on the romance of it and recognize that more than likely you're surrounded by it. The romance will come eventually.

Although the scenery in Italy is probably a little nicer and I hear Italian men are amazing.
Hmm...maybe Gilbert is on to something.
If only it didn't take so much effort to get a passport.

So I have decided to take steps to a better me. My own. No Oprah, Oz, Cosmo steps. Angela steps.

To begin - I'm going to get moving. I'm going to write something everyday. Some I'll share on here, a lot I probably won't. But, I'm going to write because I love writing. And I think it's something I'm half way decent at doing. I won't worry about whether it's a master piece, or even if the reader will like it. I'm just going to do it - for me.

The rest I'll take as it comes. I'll get it done one at a time. No wishing it away, or ignoring the problem. Basically, cut down on the worrying. And then just start enjoying all I have. My kids, my family, my friends, my cable. You know - the important stuff. 

But, for you who love the list - here is the breakdown:
1. Get moving.
2. Take care of stuff.
3. Enjoy the good stuff.
4. Stop hanging on the mistakes; the hurt; and all the things that one guy/girl said to hurt you.
5. Get a day planner.
    5a. Write in the day planner.
    5b. Open the day planner after writing in above stated day planner and carry out whatever was written in day planner.
   5c. If too lazy to go get day planner, post it notes work well.
6. Stop complaining.
And when you get discouraged and stop all the steps...
7. Get a large pizza, watch a cheesy TV marathon, pass out on the couch, and then start the steps over in the morning.

As I said before, just showing up usually does the trick. I think it's about time I show up to my own life. I'd hate to miss it all just because I couldn't follow through on seven easy steps.