I've been talking about venturing out of comfort zones, lately. It seems like the lines of my own zone, which used to be as thick as La Winehouse's eyeliner, are stretching into skimpy dotted lines now. Is it maturity, or am I just finally realizing that a good man can come in any color, shape, size or background?
It seems as if the "try something new" bug has bitten everyone lately. Angie, who is usually all about tall, dark and debonair, is dating this new guy that looks like he’s in a boy band.
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"I usually hate light eyes," she said, "but for some reason, they look really good on him." Maybe it's not the light eyes but the fact that he's adorable, smart and bat-shit crazy about her. Go figure.
Another friend of mine, Keri, hooked up with this ultra Italian "how you doin'" dude (his name is actually Tony, no lie) at the beach this weekend after we all spent hours making fun of his type after watching that "True Life: I Spend My Summer at the Jersey Shore" show on MTV. We all have our deal breakers though. And we're allowed to right? Below are my top five, in no particular order. These are things that – no matter how perfect the guy is – will have me reaching for the "just friend" button. Or running for the door.
1. Any type of racism.
2. Shortness. (Shallow, I know but I like to look up and kiss).
3. Bad hygiene. (If he ain't about the upkeep, he won’t be about the downkeep, if you know what I'm saying).
4. Intolerance of people's spiritual beliefs. (I had a guy scoff when I got into the first 10 minutes of explaining Rastafarian philosophies. He never made it to the Hinduism conversation.)
5. Bisexuality. (I can compete with other girls, but with guys too? That's just exhausting.)
I do have to say that in a conversation I had with my girls recently, I found that their lists are completely different than mine. Angie's list used to actually have "light eyes" on it. Hmm. Does that mean that the man I fall for one day may be a shorty pie? I'd rather that than a racist bastard any day.
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I'm always in awe of the twists and turns my single life (and those of my single friends) takes me on. Do we really have any control over who the next "one" will be? And more importantly… should we? Maybe things are just better off flowing organically.
Sadly, my deal breakers are pretty yawny and generic. I'm curious to know what some of yours are… do tell.