Brush Up On Your Mythology

Dear Cupid,

How are you? I figure you’re not getting a lot of e-mail traffic this time of year, am I right? Plus I’m pretty sure the vacation mode is long past and you’re not too busy yet pre-planning Zales commercials and testing new heart shaped candies. Yes, timing seems good and here I am dropping you a line.

You know why I’m here; I know why I’m here. Let’s not dance around the Maypole, eh? I would like a man. He’s beginning to be fleshed out in my mind and I thought I’d give you the current tentative run down. Keep in mind that this is just a rough outline. You’ll find that I’m flexible.

First, I would like this man to love me for all facets of who I am – good and bad. He’d be tall and funny and he’d start to describe himself as quirky, hesitate, try to amend it, then laugh and say that it would probably be the best description.

He would look at me with lights in his eyes. No matter what group of people we’d be around, he’d introduce me by name and association to himself and never let a member of the group ask, who, exactly I was.

He would say my name at least once a day to me. He’d love to read anything I’d wrote, but would not be afraid to tell me what he thought of it or what I should fix. He would never be afraid to tell me any of his opinions, but he’d never try to dominate a conversation with argumentative “discussion”, knowing that conversations have a continual give and take.

That said, he would fight with me because he’d have things he’d believe in and if something is wrong, he’d never be passive aggressive about it, but try to find a compromise. We’d never go to bed angry. We like to have make-up sex. In fact, he and I would have some amazing mattress mambo moves. It would be often and not scheduled to once a week. His scent would make me weak in the knees and also remind me of home.

He has a similar educational background and a similar take on academia. We’d laugh at how cynical higher education has made us and we’d drink margaritas together. Then we’d do shots and call a cab, and at that point we’d both confess our dirty, expensive love for this type of personal transit.

He is able to support himself completely. He would own a suit, but never remember how to tie his tie that well. He has mousse under his sink that he sometimes tries out, but it never really works that well and he’s not even sure if that’s still any good.

He has faith in humanity and faith in himself.

He likes his siblings and loves his parents. His parents love me and invite me into their family. His friends would think I’m great and tell him that this one is someone worth his time and tell him to make me bring my awesome banana bread to the next potluck. He’d have me compliment his social life and activities. He’d get a kick out of my friends because he understands that friends are family. Before S has a chance to get steely-eyed and spit out, “If you hurt her, I’ll – ”, he’d have already won her over by playing with my nephew. My Mom would nod approvingly and cry at our wedding because she’s happy and not sad.

He’d be terrified of having children, but in the darkness of night he whispers into my ear that he’d love to meet our children.

He knows another language. He likes to travel and tries to furtively steals shampoos from hotels with a big dorky grin. He is amazed by life, and although he worries just a tad about everything in general, his optimism overwhelms most of his worries. He acknowledges and tries to learn from the past. He commits to the idea of a future for himself and for us together. When faced with dancing-in-the-wind moment, he knows that the best thing to do is to shout that I should bring my camera and then grab my hand to have us run with it.

He should like animals, own a running car, love life, and also, meet me someday. He’d crack a joke about boomerangs and I’d look at him dewy-eyed and somewhere in his soul he’d remember me.

This is where you come in. You have connections. Yes, I know, I haven’t been helping you out much in this department. Yes, I continue to make the same mistakes, but honest to your Grandpa, I’m just leaving it up to you now. I’m willing to relocate.

Say hi to your Mother for me.


I’ll Push The Wheels This Time Instead of Waiting for My Past to Come By and Give Me A Ride In His Friend’s Hoopty


9 Responses to Brush Up On Your Mythology

  1. thebutton says:

    May he shoot a good one, right in the rear for ya.

  2. P.S. And he will have to be super awesome for her super awesome friend E. Speaking of which, he would like some props thrown his way as well if possible, but he doesn’t really care either way. Word to your mother.

  3. strangerandstranger says:

    You’ll bump into him:) For now just work on getting where YOU want to be that way you don’t have to worry about that after you meet him and you can focus on your relationship right;)

  4. thebutton says:

    I must admit, I was a dork yesterday. I did not click the “read the rest of this post”, I did not see it. This morning at a bleary eyed 6am, I saw it. May the right one at the right time come your way and make your life friggen amazing. 🙂

  5. Susanna says:

    Is it ok if I post your link on my blog?

  6. The Rebuker says:

    I’m late getting to the party but you’ll find him. He will inevitably fail miserably in one of the categories you’ve described, but that’ll make him more endearing.

  7. Eric says:

    Gosh ma’m are you always this sappy?

    Mind you, there is nothing wrong with that. I tried texting Cupid too btw, but I never got a reply. I think he was a bit backed up this year, and maybe made a mistake or two. Hopefully he will get it right and fix his little mistake.

  8. GS says:

    Hi there,

    I found a NICE guy that might be suitable for you, although he does not own a suite he matches your needs, plus he’s hot!



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