I talked with ElmerFudd yesterday from my old office, and as usual, he couldn’t wait to ask me if I had a new man. In the past I’d play around with Elmer about why I didn’t have a boyfriend saying things like, “Yuk. Boys are stinky.” Or “No way, all guys wanna do is talk about their feelings.”
While I don’t believe ElmerFudd cares one way or another if I actually have a man, I think he likes to see what reactions I come up with.
It didn’t escape my notice however, that I’m pretty sure a couple of the people I worked with thought I was a lesbian. A belief I’m sure I didn’t contradict by saying guys were gross then shaving my head (again, it was a bleaching accident), then removing my last name as if to make some feminist statement. I never bothered correcting the assumptions made by these people because – let’s face it, it’s more fun to watch them tiptoe around the topic and censor themselves when I’m around. Does that make me evil?
Sadly, I didn’t get to chat with them yesterday when I made my visit. I was really looking forward to seeing if I could hint at something that would make them uncomfortable.
When I came home, St. Mary and Friar Thomas where in the living room. They’re both jokers and as soon as I came in, they took on very animated roles, pretending to be my grandparents.
Friar Thomas began asking questions about my new boyfriend (the imaginary one).
“He’s great,” I said. “He doesn’t get all clingy and he can totally respect my space. He’s a fabulous cook and adorable to boot! We have a wonderful relationship.” I paused. “You wanna see his picture?”
It’s rare when I can stump Friar Thomas or St. Mary so I was pleased when he sputtered, “Uh –sure!” and took on a look of contrition that perhaps he’d been teasing me about having an imaginary boyfriend when – in actuality there was someone.
So with great pride I pulled up pictures of Jensen Ackles. Friar Thomas appeared serious for a second before he caught on and his face sort of did an “oh my god – she’s crazy – how pitiful.”
“He’s busy with work and all. Which is perfect because I don’t have him around whining all the time about how we never do anything romantic anymore.” I said.
Friar Thomas glanced at St. Mary, clearly unsure what to say, and Mary added –“It could be worse… she could be gay.”
My most sincere apologies to Mr. Ackles, for the blatant lie and slanderous use of his personal name and internet images. I will endeavor that such dishonesty will not happen again, even when I find myself in a tight spot as to answering questions about any non-existent significant other. Which brings me to another point of interest. Why do I so often find myself at the focused end of questions pertaining to whether or not I’m single? I mean, if I were being asked by a hot and eligible man – that would be different. However, I’m usually on the sharp end of the spear by my well meaning older relatives, older friends and or people who are trying to be conversational. I get it. It’s a “let me know you better” technique, sort of. What I don’t get is my own trigger response to run away, dodge the question or change the subject or worse – Lie (again, I’m sorry Mr. Ackles). Part of the problem, I guess, is that I tend to feel judged for not having or wanting a boyfriend. Like I’m some sort of freak for wanting to travel, write and adventure without the entanglement of another person’s opinion. This isn’t so unusual, right? I just spent ten years letting someone else’s needs eclipse my wants so why is it so hard for me to say, “Back off! I don’t have a man and right now – I don’t want one! That doesn’t make me a feminist or a lesbian or an antisocial bitch! It makes me smart! Smart for taking time to do what I need to do, before I get involved in a relationship!”Why is that so hard to say? I don’t know. I know I must sound angry, but really, I’m just exhausted with the question. I’m tired of trying to explain or excuse or justify my singular state. I find myself wanting to get a boyfriend online just so I can deflect questions by pointing at said internet relationship and saying, “ask him.” Is it wrong to want a cover man? Someone to take the blunt of the questions as to why I’m not a normal woman?
Men are fabulous. Men are amazing. Despite my earlier comments I love the way men smell, I love their shapes and their laughter and the sound they make in the morning when their voices are gruff from sleep. And I especially luuvvvv the spot in their neck where their beards end in scruff then give way to super soft skin. I just want to kiss it!
But not right now. Right now I like knowing I have the freedom of taking one home for a night, or having a day on the town. But I especially love not having to check in, ask permission or find out if someone else wants something different.
I do want love again. Powerful and dramatic and stunning. But I don’t want to go looking for it. I want it to be a total bolt from the blue, unexpected and surprising.
In the meantime, I plan on chasing storms, driving the country, walking the city I love and writing books that entertain. I want to make my life as amazing as I can so when love does happen, it’s going to have to be some amazing shit, to be able to sweep me off my feet – because I’ll have my own personal bar so high… of course, maybe I’ll see Mr. right and make up my mind to sweep him off his feet.
Either way, the point is, I should be strong enough to stand up and declare my single status without shame. I will try, from this point forward not to use unsuspecting celebrities –even in jest – to turn prying questions into a one-sided joke. I will try my hardest to square my shoulders and state openly that, “I am single and I don’t want a man around because he’ll hog my X-box and I won’t get to do any playing.” I’ll tip my head back and shout, “I am single and if you have a problem with that – well, then, you –shouldn’t, cuz… I like it –and if you still have a problem with that – then, well… talk to this guy.”
Oh, and my sincerest apologies also, to Mr. Orlando Bloom, for the slanderous and obscene use of his personal name and internet images. I will endeavor to be honest henceforth about the status of my relationship with the 6’ cardboard cutout of Legolas, and ensure that no one I speak with makes the erroneous assumption that Mr. Bloom is in any way aware of or accepting of the unconventional use of his merchandise.
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