“Happiness I cannot feel as love to me is so unreal…”—John Michael Osbourne, "Paranoid"--Black Sabbath (1970)
As I’ve alluded to previously, there’s been no one special in my life since Stacy in 1999. Zilch. Nada. Zippo. Not even a nibble or ray of hope. Other than dinner outings and concerts with my good friend Rose (platonic, of course), I haven’t even been on a date of any kind with a woman since December of 1999, therefore I’m pretty rusty and have quite the itch to scratch. If anything, my time with Stacy might’ve been a little too good and spoiled me a bit, as I spent a couple years basking in the glory of it and re-living those fond memories over and over, which I think made me lose a little edge and motivation to get out and find someone new, preferably local this time. That, and until Stacy got married in ’02, I was secretly holding out hope that one day she and I might pick up where we left off (to be honest, I still do sometimes).
Meantime, I also went into a major personal funk when my best friend Tom got married and inherited an instant family in 2000, thus effectively bringing our running days to a sudden screeching halt. I lost my drinking partner, so to speak, but ironically my alcohol consumption (beer mostly) increased dramatically after that and my social life tanked as this decade wore on and I more or less gave up on finding a new woman. I basically let myself go and gained a shitload of weight, too. Even worse, I haven’t met very many women since Stacy who’ve even remotely interested me, either in person or online. There was one girl at my current workplace who piqued my interest for a while about five years ago, but she’s 20 years younger than me, and even though she’s mature beyond her years, I wouldn’t have had any business pursuing her. She’s married and expecting now anyway. About the only other woman I’ve found attractive recently is my current manager, and even she is about 15 years younger than me, so that ain’t happening either!
I’d sure like to know whatever happened to the whole “when you’re not looking for someone is when you’ll find someone” adage, because it sure ain’t worked for me in the last decade.
I honestly don’t think I’m all that picky, really, when it comes to my tastes in the opposite sex. I’ve read more than once where it’s actually okay to have at least a few standards that you’re absolutely adamant about in a mate, and I only have three: I don’t want someone with kids, tattoos turn me off big-time and I won’t date anyone who does illegal drugs (which kinda goes without saying anyway), so everything else is negotiable. I strongly prefer non-smokers, but if she’s a “clean” smoker like Stacy was when we dated, then I can work around it. I’d rather date someone who isn’t very religious or is not religious at all, and in regard to ethnicity, I definitely prefer white women, but certainly wouldn’t rule out other races, especially Asian or Hispanic girls. Although I can’t really picture myself dating a black woman, I won’t totally discount that possibility either, if I meet someone I really like. I keep an open mind there…
As far as physical attributes, I can be very flexible in a lot of areas (such as weight, for instance) whereas some guys are totally fixated on nabbing some blonde supermodel with big breasts. Ironically, blonde is my least favorite hair color on women. Not that I dislike blonde hair, but it’s way down the list for me, as I’m more attracted to brunettes and especially redheads. And as with Stacy, bald chicks are most welcome! I’m also partial to blue eyes, but I’m not picky there. I’m not really hung up on big breasts either—if she has ‘em, great, but I’m more of a leg man anyway. Getting back to weight, petite women don’t necessarily blow me away (my attraction to Pat Benatar and Jane Wiedlin back in the day not- withstanding). I learned a new appreciation for Rubinesque women after dating Lisa #2 and Stacy, and actually prefer someone who’s a little chunky way more than some scrawny supermodel-type—i.e. give me Renee Zellweger at her Bridget Jones weight any day over her typical anorexic red-carpet look. So long as the woman still has curves, looks good in a skirt, doesn’t outweigh me by more than about 20 pounds and isn’t built like a middle linebacker or doesn’t tower over me like Yao Ming, then I’m cool with her.
I know this is going to sound superficial and whiny here, but women these days seem to have forgotten how to attract men, as today’s hairstyles and fashions leave a lot to be desired. While it’s hardly the most important factor in choosing a mate, it doesn’t hurt to make an effort to look nice to catch someone’s eye and make a good first impression—it’s as if women don’t even give a shit anymore about what they look like. As gaudy as ‘80s hair and clothing were at times, I kinda miss that era when women looked like they at least put some thought into their appearance, unlike today, where it’s “I’ll just wad my hair up in a ponytail and call it hairstyle.” For example, I rarely even see curly hair on women anymore, and the most prevalent hairstyle I see these days is this bland Kelly Osbourne-looking “Oh-dear-I’ve-backed-into-a-moving-fan” crap.
As for clothing, women’s fashions have reverted to the Dark Ages since the late ‘90s. It’s rare I even see attractively-dressed women anymore (i.e., skirts/dresses, hose, heels, etc.) even in places you’d expect to find them like in a bank, airport, four-star hotel, or semi-upscale department store. A lot of women seemingly have even sworn off wearing skirts altogether, which I find very sad. Hell, female news anchors/reporters on TV don’t even dress professionally anymore since the Great Hosiery Embargo of the early ‘00s took over and bare legs became the norm everywhere, even in the dead of winter. I guess I’m in the minority, but I find bare legs to be rather boring, and I don’t need to see a whole lot of skin to turn me on. For example, back when Jennifer Aniston was still cute (i.e., not anorexic) in the early days on “Friends”, there was an episode where she had on a black turtleneck top with a leopard-print vest over it, black mini-skirt and tights—only her face, neck and hands were exposed—and she looked far sexier to me than any woman in a two-piece bikini ever could. Besides, half the fun for me is "unwrapping the package", so to speak! Then, of course, we went through the whole low-rise/hip-hugger pants and bare midriff phase that got old real quick, not to mention the whole Goth thing (there’s still way too much black out there on women now), followed by the most hideous item of female attire known to mankind, Birkenstocks! Ladies, if you never want to have sex again with any heterosexual man on earth, keep wearing those damn things. Yes, I have no doubt they were/are comfortable as hell, but do they have be so gawd-awfully unattractive and unflattering to your feet? Same goes for Crocks too. Toe rings and ankle bracelets are also really dorky to me—jewelry and feet are not a good mix! Why did women suddenly stop dressing attractively over the last ten years or so? Even Mimi on “Drew Carey Show” would almost be a step in the right direction now…
More or less coinciding with the Great Hosiery Embargo was the dreaded tattoo-and-piercing tsunami that swept our culture, during which perfectly beautiful women painted graffiti on their bodies and/or studded their faces. Like I’ve noted many times on this blog, tattoos on women are a major turn-off to me and I don’t care how dainty or feminine the tattoo might be, it might as well be a swastika to me, especially on legs or arms. Yes, I know, it’s just ink on skin, but it’s the macho image that it projects that I have issues with mostly. These ass-crack tattoos and Oriental symbols on the nape are stupid too—why on earth would you get a tattoo somewhere that you can’t even view without a mirror? I know I sound like a Reagan conservative on this issue, but tattoos are for sailors, Rock stars, and White Trash skanks—not attractive women! I also don’t care for the whole piercing thing (other than ears), especially anything around the nose and mouth. Sorry, sweetheart, but I ain’t kissing you with a mouthful of studs! Another fashion “accessory” I’m tired of seeing on women today is nerdy eyeglasses. I’m talking about these Clark Kent specials that so many young females wear today—I can’t figure out why so many women intentionally try to make themselves look manly with these hideous things instead of something round and feminine (think Meg Griffin, for instance).
So what the hell am I looking for in a woman at this point? I’ll turn 45 next month, so let’s be realistic here, anyone under 30 is pretty much out of the picture now. Again, I have no interest in parenthood whatsoever, so anyone with kids is out too, irregardless of how old they are—I’m just not built to deal with it, sorry! But, I’d like to think there’s still someone of the female persuasion out there who just wants a simple one-on-one relationship with a nice agnostic guy who will treat her right. I’m an anomaly when it comes to heterosexual men—I like ABBA and I’m not above attending a “chick-flick” now and then—I can’t be all bad! I’d love to be with a woman who likes travel, sports, Rock ’N’ Roll and curling up on the sofa together (not necessarily in that order). Maybe she’s still out there and I just haven’t found her yet. Either that, or she’s on that slow boat to China. I know I have some work to do on my physical appearance and body language, but you can do a whole lot worse than me, too, and I see a lot of assholes out there scoring with damn nice women. I’m not sure why things have shaken out the way they have in my love-life, but I can’t help but feel like the big parade has passed me by sometimes. So, dear friends, I ask you this—where do I go from here?