Type Schmype!

The main character in my first novel had two love interests: one was quiet and brainy, tall, dark and handsome and the other was playful with a baby face.  My main character was attracted to both of these men even though they were not the same “type.”

When I’m with my girlfriends, one will often comment, “that guy is cute” and another will sometimes respond, “he’s not my type.”  Some of my friends have a specific type, for instance, “tall, broad and dark skinned.”  Since I’m not currently in a serious relationship, I’m often asked “what’s your type”? The answer is, I don’t have a type. More accurately, my “type” is usually the type of whoever I am dating or interested in at the time.

When I liked a guy who was 6″2′ and” dorky-cute”, I found myself attracted to other tall, dorky-cute guys and was all about height.  But when I found myself attracted to a shorter, stocky guy, suddenly height no longer mattered (so long as he was taller than me…)  When I was dating an athlete, I loved how strong he was and how little I felt in his arms.  I was all about the biceps and triceps and broad shoulders and, yowza, he was hot. But when I dated a guy who was so skinny, he fit into my jeans, it was all good.  

I once had strong feelings for a brainy guy and was turned on by his knowledge of seemingly everything and his tendency to read books of a strictly intellectual nature. But before and after him, I was attracted to men who would rather debate the best television spin-offs of all times than read a book about economics. 

What I’m getting at is that, for me, attraction is about chemistry and not about “type” and I never know who is going to do it for me until I meet him. Granted, I am rarely attracted to overweight men, aside from a little beer belly (I don’t particularly care for rock hard, six-pack abs and, no, I’m not just saying that) and since I work out six days a week and work hard to stay in shape, I think I’m entitled. And I tend to prefer brown hair to blonde. But in general, type schmype!  Handsome? Sure! Sexy? Yes, please. Funny? For sure. Nice?  I would hope so! Interested back? Fingers crossed. But blue eyed vs brown eyed, fair skinned vs dark, built vs slight?  Creative and artsy vs business guy or computer geek? Who cares so long as I am attracted and he is passionate about something. If I like him, and I know when I do, well, I guess he’s my “type”.

What about you?  What’s your “type”?

my life as a book

I have no idea what direction this blog will take but I’m hoping it makes me feel better, as writing usually does.  I actually have nothing to feel “down” about – I had a great weekend, followed by a pretty productive week at work and some fun plans and I leave for a beach vacation in six days.  But for reasons I won’t spell out, I’m feeling uncertain and questioning something that is consuming a lot of my overactive brain these days .  On Monday and Tuesday, I was questioning nothing and at peace with my life and on Thursday, I lost my mind.  It’s very frustrating and emotionally exhausting to be me this week.

 In the midst of all of this questioning, and in my certainty that it’s just a temporary glitch, I got to wondering:  If my life was a book, would anyone want to read me?  

 Like a good book, my life does not travel a flat road.  There are lots of ups and downs and I usually don’t see what is coming until it hits me in the face.  I’m also surprised with what comes next, sometimes pleasantly, sometimes not so much.  My life is never predictable and even when I think I know what will happen, it often doesn’t, at least not the way I envisioned it.  There’s clearly been character development, at least so far, as I face challenges, sometimes defeating the enemy and sometimes getting my ass kicked.  I’m constantly making mistakes and usually learning lessons from them. My goals and desires have changed as I continue to figure out what I want, need and deserve.  I certainly don’t lack depth but I manage to humor myself and others in my journey, sometimes even on purpose. 

When I think of my life as a book, I can actually breathe easier and try not to be so impatient.  It’s much more exciting to look forward to each day as if I’m turning a page in the book of my life. If a higher power is writing my book, I will try to have faith that he/she knows what he’s doing and has my best interests at heart.  If it’s all a matter of free-will, I guess I will just have to trust my instincts and hopefully not do anything totally stupid.  But, for now, I’m just going to try not to question everything.  I’ve learned from the previous chapters in the “book of Meri” that the answers will come to me when they come to me and not a minute sooner.

ode to my friends

I was on an emotional rollercoaster today- started off the day feeling happy and confident, but something inconsequential happened that felt monumental and as a result, my great mood turned ugly. But I vented my concerns to a friend and within an hour, she replied and I felt better. Emails from this friend usually do make me feel better. This friend does not simply tell me what I want to hear but she has this amazing way of helping me see things from a different perspective and what might appear ugly is often much more attractive with different lighting. This friend always helps me see things in a different light.

What happened today reminded me of how blessed I am to have such great friends. And while I love and need all of them, each is special for different reasons. The following is an ode to my friends. Although none of these are mutually exclusive and there is certainly some overlap, you might recognize yourself in here.

The friend who calls when you are already in bed or comfy on the couch watching television and talks you into getting dressed and going out.  You will always have fun with this friend but beware, you might wake up with a nasty hangover and memories of sucking face with a 22 year old.

The friend who knew you well before puberty and can remind you of all of the fun you had when life was simple – before boys and careers and biological clocks were even on the radar. The friend who reminds you of all the times you ate spaghetti and ended up wearing it all over face and clothes. The friend who might not be up on the day to day goings-on in your life but the friend who is like a sister and who you know will be your friend when you are both wearing dentures, hopefully not for another 4 decades.

The friend that has the pleasure of  knowing your issues and insecurities inside out and remains steadfast in his reassurances even though he knows the likelihood of his wisdom sinking in permanently is slim.

The friend who consistently seeks your guidance, advice and reassurance and makes you feel wise and needed.

The friend who you know is amazing and wish she saw what you saw. This is sometimes also the friend you want to shake some sense into but know she has to find her own way.

The friend who enables you to let your bitch flag fly by participating in making petty comments about other women and man bashing. (I only do this once a month…)

The friend who sets you straight by reminding you that there will always be prettier girls and douchey guys but a) deal with it and b) deal with it.

The friends who showed you true loyalty by loving you even after you puked in the radiator freshman year of college and the suite smelled for days. At one point, these friends knew all your secrets because they lived with you. They saw you at your best and worst and couldn’t care less that at your best and at your worst, you were probably drunk. Even as the years pass, these friends will hold a special place in your heart and you will always smile thinking about the good times and hardly remember the bad times.

The friend who has always been there throughout the years and even though the degree of closeness you share fluctuates depending on a variety of factors from physical distance to having different social circles, she will be the first person you probably call to share the good news and, God forbid, the bad news.

The friend you’ve only known a couple of years who has become a constant in your life – your “go to” friend for social events, email exchanges and text messages. The friend(s) who is always up on your life and vice-versa. You might not know this friend as intimately as some of your others but you love her just as much.

The friend who always comments on your facebook status.

The friend who knows when it’s time to finish a blog.

To all of my friends, I love you and thank you for loving me – Just as I am.