I've written variations of the piece I'm about to write for you here several hundred times. It's one of my favorites.
Every single time my friends and I all get together, we all end up divided on a couple of couches and in the floor. As we've gotten older, most of them have divided up into couples. We don't even ask the guys if they would like to come and hang out or get together. We just assume that if best friend is coming, boyfriend will follow, like good boys do. It's not that I would ever begrudge any of my friends this happiness. To be honest, I'm absolutely thrilled that they continue to settle down and find guys who make them happy, because Lord knows with my friends, it takes a special, special man to love each and every one of them. That being besides the point, it takes no incredible deduction to discover that as the night winds down and everyone starts to cuddle, that there's a 5'2 green eyed southern till the day she dies homegrown girl sitting awkwardly by herself, gawking at the t.v. (mostly because ADHD is at bay when the t.v. is on...and Law and Order is just that great). And that girl is yours truly.
Now, generally, it doesn't bother me to play fifth wheel or third wheel or 7th wheel or whatever. My friends, completely comfortable with their sexuality, are happy to hold my hand, rub my back, and pretty much make everyone in the room think we could be a lesbian couple, except we're straight as a piece of railroad track in Kansas. Sometimes, though, it gets to me. I look at them all googly eyed over some piece of boy meat and I want my own.
Let me be honest in saying I'm picky. You can't be too short, too fat, too thin, too overbearing, not overbearing enough, and the list goes on for days. I also know, as a default, I shy away from commitment like the plague. I'm terrified of being tied down to one single person, even if it's only for a little while. That feels like putting chains on me and saying don't move or speak forever. Yeah, that would never, ever happen. So anyway, as a general rule to my pickyness, before you can be considered to apply for anything serious (and by serious I mean we go out more than once and texting is not our only mode of communication), you must meet some certain criteria that I'll shortly list below for you. After you have met said criteria, anyone who applies must then go through a series of exams that prove that they aren't, for lack of a better word 'chicken shit scared' of me. Now, that might sound like big talk, but let's be honest. I am an intimidating beauty of a girl, and if my beauty doesn't scare you, my honesty, sarcastic wit, and total disregard for how uncomfortable bodily functions can make people will. So, it will take a very, very, very, very, very special person to begin such a relationship with me. Ahh...relationship
I will now define relationship. Relationship: an increasingly less awkward attempt by a male and female to get to know each other through communication, be that bodily, spiritually, or the actual act of talking. As a relationship progresses, the less awkward it becomes until the relationship passes on into the we're serious about this shit stage. Communication can be but is not limited to body language, text, phone, and face to face conversations. However, as relationship moves out of the realm of really awkward, it is important to increase face time and decrease text time.
Now that we have my personal definition of relationship, let us describe what one needs to apply to the face that has a sticky note plastered to forehead that reads: terrified of commitment, loud, obnoxious, farts often, likes losers.
First, one needs a full set of front teeth. The back ones are not as important because they can't be seen. Chips in teeth are allowable as long as it's a chip. Not a rotten, nasty, excuse for a tooth that you can't or won't get pulled.
Second, personal hygiene is important. Bathing weekly or every other day, or every day is preferred. If weekly is the choice, please have good deodarant and cologne so you smell good anyways. Not brushing your front teeth, wearing clothes that stand up, and smelling worse than cat pee is highly frowned upon and will lead to a big fat deny.
Third, a personal attitude that reflects your beliefs is fine. Don't expect me to be playing Aunt Bea cleaning house and keeping the kitchen and fixing you a sandwich and sweet tea. I might be as sugary sweet as tea, but Lord if I can't be as mean as the devil himself. Referring to me as "your old lady", your "bitch", or anything else demeaning is grounds for burning your application at the stake.
Fourth, don't compliment me when I look like I just rolled out of bed and have the hangover from Hell. It won't get you anywhere except sitting on your butt outside. I don't care how greasy my hair gets, how bad my armpits look, or about that big, huge crater on my face. Okay, I do care about hairy armpits, call me out on that one. Other than that, you leave my personal hygiene to me, and only tell me I look amazing when I actually do, because I already have a big enough head about how good I look.
Now, if you know a man who could live up to these standards, let me at him. If you are a man who would like an application to be considered, leave it at the door, because I gave at the office.
I don't believe in a knight in shining armor. I believe in knowing what you want, when you want it, and going after it. Unless you are terrified of birds or clowns. Then you just need to lock yourself in a closet. Oh, and if you are terrified of commitment, then it should probably come to you. Which is precisely what anyone will have to do when they consider submitting an application to me.
-JoAnna
