Every now and then I think, “hey, wouldn’t it be grand if I could pick out men like, Cher Horowitz picks out clothes?.” Rise and shine, I pick out the perfect man to go with my mood or even my routine that day. It could be so easy, he’ll have green eyes, no blue. He’ll wear dark wash well fitted jeans and a button-down with a cardigan.
You’d think life would be easier by clicking a few buttons to find the ideal man.
However, when I do pick out that perfect one I sit in this constant: “Am I good enough? Does he like my hair this way? How’s my breath (okay- thats always on my mind), but I’m so focused on what I’m doing to please this prospected guy I hardly focus on how this guy is pleasing me.
That’s what I did with the last one. He seemed so great, why? because he paid attention to me. It didn’t matter if he was mean, hell it didn’t matter if he couldn’t keep it up. I liked him. Why? he showed me attention. It’s pathetic, but its true. It’s probably the most honest thing I’ve said in a while.
I can’t find the right guy because I’m too busy finding the wrong one. I’m too busy picking out the perfect parts of the overall look, instead of throwing something on and seeing how it fits.
I treat men as if they are a vast closet full of endless opportunities. It’s as if I see men as Cher’s closet.
Now, I’m cleaning out my closet, donating the used items to the Pesmo Beach disaster relief, and I’m going to try an outfit that fits for comfort rather than style.
Here’s to a guy who makes me happy, like a good Calvin Klein dress.