passion...schmassion

day 10170: project “find-J-a-boy”

I need a boy. Ok. Fine. I don’t need a boy, so much as I need a bed warmer. But I would like a boy.

I woke up to an unfamiliar sensation this morning. It was unpleasant.

I was cold…

I was shivering those little shivers that come just before your teeth start chattering and all your muscles tense up in one big knot. Forget the knot. I was already curled up as tightly as possible in a little ball, blankets drawn up over my head, trying to suck heat from the dog snuggled into my stomach.

Did I mention that it was cold?

I like being warm, and cozy. Fuzzy even.

So, I think I’d like a boy, now. I’m ready for one. I think. The dog just doesn’t do it for me anymore. Sorry Toots.

And for those of you argumentative types, there are tons more reasons (other than a bed warmer) why I would like a boy…

Such as…

I can’t reach my kitchen light to replace the bulb. I don’t have a chair or a stepladder. I can’t reach when I’m standing on a stool. Let’s face facts. I’m short. What I do have is my counter top and my stove. But even though I can do the splits and can probably reach the light fixture, I still need someone to spot me. You know, someone to, say, strategically place a hand on my butt should I start to tip over. You wouldn’t want me to hurt myself or anything, would you? And not just anyone is allowed to touch my butt… a girl’s gotta have some standards, you know…

I hate staying at home and watching television by myself. I need someone to make fun of the shows with me, and to laugh with me, at me. More importantly, I need someone to snuggle up with, and wake me up to tell me to go to bed after I’ve fallen asleep on the couch for the umpteenth time watching midnight reruns of CSI. Waking up at three in the morning to scantily dressed women advertising phone crap on television and hauling my own ass into a cold bed is no fun. I get grumpy the next morning… beware ye who cross my path before I’ve had my tenth cup of coffee… see it’s for the better good of the world…

I need someone to lead climb with, or at least someone to take the course with. Someone I can trust with my life and not worry that they’ll drop me 10 feet to the ground, or open the gri-gri and yell sit before I’ve actually put my weight on the rope… sure I can climb with a girl, but if I have to stare at ass while I belay, don’t you think I’d rather be staring at a boy’s bum, instead of a girl’s… what can I say, I like cute tushies…

It’s October. It’s almost fall. What better thing can you think of than walking through the outdoor marketplace, coffee in one hand, boy’s hand in the other. Wearing matching suede jackets and cool, funky, comfy jeans, bright red autumn leaves floating down to the ground beside us as we browse from stand to stand. Oy, I think I’ve been flipping through one too many Ralph Lauren catalogues...

So, as the story goes, I'm officially announcing the launch of Project Find-J-A-Boy. Friends, Romans, countrymen, spread out across our fair city and search high and low for my *sigh* one and only.

Good luck and Godspeed...

I'm off to my mother's house to "borrow" a couple more duvets... :)