Not a Target list.
Not a grocery list.
Not a To Do one, or a bucket one, either.
THE LIST. I read a blog post by Michelle at So Wonderful, So Marvelous about a list pinpointing specific ideals she was looking for in a mate. Then, she met the man who would become her husband, and BOING. He met almost all of the criteria from THE LIST.
Here's something I don't think I've ever told anyone. Way back in the day, like back in my senior year of high school (when dinosaurs roamed the earth along with Trapper Keepers and Flashdance sweatshirts), I made a list of my own in a spiral notebook during Creative Writing.
My list was comprised of about ten things. Things I wanted in a boyfriend. I can't recall every one of them, but I do remember "curly hair" and "drives a dark colored Bronco or suburban-type car" and "funny" and "plays hockey". I folded up my list and tucked it in the pages of my diary.
And then, my first year of college, I found the boy from THE LIST. My first boyfriend, Tom, was like my list come true. He had the curly hair! He was funny! He played hockey! I'm almost certain I never told Tom about THE LIST. But those were the days of pizza and ganja, so there's a good chance I did and just don't remember it. Luckily, he probably doesn't, either.
Tom and I fell for each other immediately and lasted several years. I don't have too many regrets in life, but letting that one go is one of them. I mean, obviously it was meant to be, right? Some life lessons suck way more than others.
So anyways. I hadn't thought about THE LIST until I read Michelle's post. And since then, I can't stop thinking about it. What would my list be like now? Does THE LIST really have magical properties?
Maybe it really is all about throwing your wishes out to the universe instead of keeping them locked up in your heart. After all, how else will fate or cupid or the gods of serendipity ever know what we're looking for?
I've been compiling my 2013 list, mentally, over the past few weeks. It's quite detailed, but then again, I've been burned by love. So I'm picky now. Picky and scared.
My fantasy list would look like this:
1. Be Louis C.K.
But I'm nothing if not realistic. And I know my Louis C.K. dreams are silly. Hot, but silly. So here is my updated version of THE LIST. Now on a laptop instead of in a Trapper Keeper. Let's see if it works this time around, shall we?
JENNY'S LIST, 2013
1. He must like kids and dogs. I'd prefer it if he has both. Cats are okay too.
2. He must be healthy. I'm kind of fat right now, but working on it. Diligently. It would actually be great if he was thick around the middle as well. That way he'd know what it's like to struggle with the scale. And we could eat our veggies and light dill dip together, in chubby solidarity. Oh, and also? NO CIGARETTES. Bleah. Cigars when he's out with the boys, every once in a while, that's okay. But no cigs.
3. He must have a job. I don't care if he waits tables, pours concrete or designs shopping malls. A job is a job is a job. A strong work ethic is all kinds of sexy.
4. It's imperative that we have things in common. More than "likes to eat" or "enjoys a cocktail". There has to be common ground. Music we both enjoy, books we've both read, things that crack us up. Not everything has to be all matchy-matchy, but there have to be a few shared interests. If he has a penchant for movies based on Marvel comics, Joss Whedon and/or binge-watching t.v. series on Netflix, that would be kind of awesome.
5. He has to be a nice guy. Nothing turns me off faster than hearing someone talk smack about their friends. Or their friend's kids. Because in my world, if you say crap about people behind their backs, what's stopping you from doing the same thing to me? My motto is, if you wouldn't say it to someone's face, just don't say it. Period.
6. Expounding on the nice thing: no assholes, please. He's going to be nice to be around. He treats everyone he meets with respect. He says "Thank you" when a waiter refills his water, he holds doors open for other people and he will not make fun of me for stopping the car to let a squirrel get across the street. I've pounded this into the heads of my children and I'm not embarrassed to say that my heart nearly bursts with pride when I see them go out of their way to say "Thank you" to people. Now, thank you notes, those are another story. We're working on that one as a family.
7. His junk has to work. That's all I'm going to say about this one.
8. He'll understand that I'm kind of broken inside. Not super damaged, but there are cracks. Something irreparable happens to you when the person you loved hurts you. Fails you. Treats you like shit. Trust doesn't come easily for me. But when it does, it's there for the long haul. I'm loyal like a damn dog, and it would be nice if he's like that, too.
9. Drinking. For all of my talk about martinis and wine, I'm not the lush you'd think I'd be. Working at 7:30 a.m. every morning has put the kibosh on weeknight cocktails. And by the time the weekend rolls around, I'm too tired and too freaking busy to have more than a couple drinkies. Who wants to be the mom at hockey with the booze breath? Not me. I've dated some very heavy drinkers in the past. No mas, por favor.
10. And the one carryover from my 1985 list: He has to bring the funny. If I don't laugh, things get ugly. Fast. I've learned that if you surround yourself with people who enjoy both laughing, and making others laugh, life is so much better.
And that's my list. You know you'll be the first people to know if this guy shows up on my doorstep.
How about you? Married friends, did you have THE LIST? Was it accurate? And all my single ladies...let me know if you have THE LIST! What's on it? I'm curious in a non-creepy way.
Off to Ped-Egg my heels. Just in case.