What the Hell is my Type?

And on the subject of new admirers…. Another subject comes to mind.

What the hell is my ‘type’?

Five years ago, that would have been so simple to answer. Tight jeans wearing (with or without the motorcycle) , long, dark haired, facial-haired tall guy who knows how to treat a woman in bed.

Now?

Well the tall is still on the list, as is the facial hair *grin. Strong legs always make me weak. And warm eyes. And enjoying not-quite-vanilla-or-sweet sex is a huge plus. But what else? Where does it go after that?

Being picky has its advantages I guess. And not being in a hurry. And being able to look at each man as his own person rather than ‘a potential boyfriend’, or a ‘cure for loneliness’ or a ‘cure for horniness’. When I’m ready to start being serious about ‘looking’, I can take all the time I want to. I have the other areas covered.

So, when I start looking, what I am looking for? Maybe it’s easier to start with what I’m not looking for. Or more specifically, what I don’t care about.

There are certain things that mattered a lot to me in the past, but matter very little now. Age being one of them. I have had lovers up to 12 years older and 13 years younger and frankly the age has never been a factor either way. I used to think (and my mother is famous for saying…) that I should have an older man. But most of that stemmed from feeling like I wanted security and to be taken care of and I really don’t have that feeling anymore. In 3.5 years, I’ve been damn self-sufficient. And I’m happy that way.

So with age off the list and the typical unkempt, slovenly, unemployed man off the list, what direction should we go next?

A geek is good. Someone who is able to have as much fun at home as he can going out. A reader is good. Intelligent enough to keep me interested. A good sense of humor and a genuine laugh. Affectionate but not clingy. Someone who can listen to today’s music or my 70’s rock and roll or my 80’s hair bands and not turn up his nose. Someone who enjoys the fantasy end of science-fiction/fantasy and can laugh at Kevin Smith and be engrossed by a good drama. Someone who can enjoy Buffy the Vampire Slayer as much as Queer as Folk. Someone who doesn’t want a ‘baby mama’ (because I am so much more than that). Someone who ‘gets’ me. Someone who has something to invest in me, and invites me to invest in him.

A tall order, certainly. Am I going to find him my first shot out of the gate? Unlikely. But as someone who never really did the whole ‘dating’ thing, and frankly doesn’t know if I’m going to enjoy it or not, the proposition of looking is both scary and exciting. And a little overwhelming.

But that’s good, right? That I know that? And that I’m still willing to put for the effort when the time comes?

I’m willing to invest the time in what makes me happy.