I think about men. I think about men a lot. In fact, I think I think about men too much, but according to scholars, my singles ward relief society president, and my mother, it's normal for a twentysomething female to think about the opposite gender (or the same gender, depending on said female's preference).Before Master Fob left for the great and spacious city, and even before Melyn left for the middle-of-somewhere city (which would put us somewhere at the beginning of August), the subject of men-eg-is-interested-in came up. I rattled off the usual suspects: John Cusack, Benedick, Mr. Darcy, Bradley Cooper (who, by the way, is exhibit A). Master Fob pointed out with his usual fobby wisdom that none of the men on my list were real. And I pointed out that John Cusack and Bradley Cooper were very much real, just not. . . real real.
This exchange has been in the back of my mind since it happened and an evening of watching The Goodbye Girl with LadyJane and exclaiming over the brilliance of Elliot Garfield has made me return to the subject, but now with the tainting of late-night worry. What if I really do like my imaginary men best of all? Has all my reading and movie watching amounted to insane expectations of not just men in my life, but the man? Case in point: The selling point on the seven-year-crush (which I think might actually be an eight-year-crush now) was always that he annoyed me more than anyone living, a la Benedick or Darcy.
I attempted to create a shortlist of "real" men. Couldn't do it. Instead I added Gregory House, M.D., to the original list. How can you not love that man?
10 comments:
Hm. Doesn't take much effort.
The good news is that I am living proof that there exist real men every bit as intelligent, charming, handsome, and annoying as the ones you fantasize about.
Yes, but you're taken.
I heart that movie.
At least you have some hope for romantic intrigue, even if it's with people who don't technically exist. The closest thing I've come to romantic interest lately is realizing that I really like buttermilk buscuits.
I like buttermilk busuits. Um, real men are great and all--well, actually, no, a lot of them are scum. . . a few real men are great and all, but don't stoop to making a list. I mean if there is someone who has to have his name written down for you to remember that you're interested in him, I don't think you're really that interested in him. . . And please don't tell me you have one of some "lists of qualities" left over from those Mia Maid lessons. . .
I have a list of qualities leftover from my sophomore year and a conversation with Katya on the lawn in front of the JKHB. I think there was chocolate milk involved. That, my friends, is real love.
And Gregory House absolutely should be on the list. He's on my list, and he's currently ahead of Jude Law.
I find Jude Law attractive, but a little creepy. And even more creepy since some chick in my contemporary lit class voiced the opinion that Mr. Law would make an excellent Joseph Smith.
I only just discovered how attractive Jude Law is. Only I think you may have ruined him for me forever, EG.
Jude Law is very attractive. But I think the girl in your class may have been on acid.
oh. exhibit a.
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