Mushy soppy spongey girls stuff

Headnote: My loyal older readers will know this was a post I put up on my last blog, but I thought it needed some airing out again and I was also inspired by Kab’s post today.

Last night I finally got home just after nine, and cracked open some calmyoudown, which promtly ended up calming ME down…. waaaaaayyyy down. So the reason for me telling you this, is to cover my ass and have an aliby/excuse for saying what I am about to say, bearing in mind that I am hung over, and the after effects of alcohol genuinely do effect mood swings the next day:

In light of last nights activities, I am inspired to do a list of my wants/needs/hopes in a man. The perfect man….does he exsist? I’m waiting to see.

– Looks truly do matter. Not the kind you are thinking of, oh no – the kind of looks and signals he gives out with his eyes. I truly believe that eyes are the windows into your soul. Therefore, when someone asks me if looks matter, i say HELL YEAH THEY DO!

– I want someone who will be good with kids. Not just in the future, he needs to be good with kids now. Kids are a huge part of my life. Personally, socially, professionally.

Personally, I had a child of my own. He needs to know this, accept this. Be fine with me having photo’s of her lying around, be fine with my mom talking about her. Be fine with me crying on her birth day, or even her death day.

More importantly, he needs to be fine with me not doing any of those things. The wound has healed, let me be. I may be sad from time to time, but I am ok. He should want to know about her, and feel comfortable asking questions.

Socially, my friends all have children. My best friend is mother to my two godchildren, I spend lots of time with them, which means he would have to aswell.

Professionally, I deal with kids from broken homes all the time with life line. They phone in and I listen and talk and try to help where I can. Sometimes there stories are sad, more often they are horrific. I would need to sit down after a hectic shift over a cup of coffee and tell him all about this, and he would have to kiss me on my forehead and hold me close.

– Affection is so important! I love being hugged. And kissed. And touched. Touch my knee when we’re in the car, under the table, on the couch, in the line at woolies. Don’t confuse this with tonsil hockey, and spit swapping in front of old people, thats just disrespectful, but I’m not shy to love in public. He shouldn’t be either.

– Family is a huge priority. I’ve already spilled the beans about how huge my family is. And pretty intimidating at first. But once my family sees that he makes me happy and is not a psychopath/paedeofile/robber/axe murderer/rapist, they will accept him with open arms. And probably make him do all the braai’ing for a while, well at least until he grew the balls to call shotgun-not-doing-it. I would never embarrass him, humiliate him and would not be scared to stand up for him infront of my family, but they are important to me and he needs to try and get along & make the effort.

– Independance. I like to be on my own, its rare and not many people are this way, but I amuse myself and like quality alone time too. I drive my own car. I pay my own bills. I have my own accounts. I have my own friends. Don’t try change that. I won’t let you. But I am up for compromise; Lets go in two cars. You can stay if you aren’t ready to come home. We’ll split the bill half way, or this time I pick it up, next time is on you. We’ll visit my friends tomorrow, yours today.

– Have the ability to understand me. I am an open book. I right my own script. I will tell you how I am feeling. When I’m mad, happy, embarrassed, confused. Just ask. I love surprises. I’m spontaneous. So easy to please. I’m not high maintenance. All I ask for is honesty, laughter, companionship, love. I need to feel secure in our relationship. He should let me buy things for him. Sometimes they’ll be cheap and nasty, but humourous and teasing. I once bought a red heart shaped Gstring for a guy on valentines day. I have also bought things that cost a bit more. Let me spoil him, and cook him great food. And when the food is not so great, tell me why and what you would have preferred.

– Allow me to be stupid. Although my IQ is higher than most (well, it used to be. I took an online test recently and it has dropped a few points) I can be a complete ditz. I walk into walls with or without my glasses. I say things outloud that should never be verbalised. I ask dumb questions. I randomly divert a conversation to that moth flying above our heads, or the waiter who just bent over. Bear with me. Its an interesting ride.

– Have patience with my trust issues. I have been burnt, as I’m sure you have too. My burns seem to unfortunately be on thriller movie level. You know that movie that you saw once where you couldn’t predict what was coming next, and when it does come, you could never fathom something like that happening in reality? They probably got the story line from my relationship track record. Show me I can trust you, win me over, and I’ll be yours for as long as you want me. Hopefully forever, because I am ready for that sort of relationship. I’m tired of being the only single girl at the doodaa with friends.

– Accept my career. I have a 24/7 kind of job. I get calls at 11 o clock on a Saturday night. Sometimes I won’t get any. I carry my laptop with me wherever I go, in case I need to do an urgent email. I am my own boss in a way of or when I get to go home, but that doesn’t mean I can skip my responsibilities either.

– Lets go camping! I don’t need hair dryers, make up or electricity! I can get dirty! As long as there is running water, showers and a toilet, let me show you how good I am at making camp coffee with condensed milk and a potjie pot on a fire!

– Sex is Awesome! Say no more.

– Let me be coy with my body. I have had a baby, I have stretch marks. I have a bakery going on around my belly, never mind rolls. If you’ve ever seen the movie “White Chics” I’m like the Backfat Sally girl, except not so bloody skinny. Deal with it. I have plans to do stuff, just let me do it in my own time. Unless Perfect Man plans on being my personal trainer, of course.

– Love Music! Even the slow, sad stuff. Especially the upbeat modern stuff. Let me sit in the bath and listen to Jack Johnson on full blast. When I’m in the shower, and doing my best Gregorian impersonation, you can laugh as much as you like, or even tell me to shut up.

There is so much more I can think of, but I will bore you with the details. The Perfect man… is there such a thing? I most certainly hope so!