2007-02-09

types and valentines

Di and I were talking about "types" the other night on the phone. She has a distinct type that she goes for: tall, dark and chubby. We have this other friend that invariably goes for big noisy blondes. I think Paddy usually likes brunettes with glasses. It's kind of strange knowing that I fit the "type," because, you know, what if I had contacts? Would he never have loved me? Perhaps that is melodramatic, but you can't know, can you? I said I didn't really have a type and she scoffed and said that it was Paddy and that I liked nerdy engineers. But really, as I pointed out, he's the only one like that I have ever been with. Most of the men that I have gone on dates with were classically good-looking--strong features, well-built, slightly brooding and strangely, with working class jobs. They were never serious and rarely more than a couple dates. Then I thought about it some more, and realized that I perhaps have two types: those that I went on dates with and those that I actually liked. Most of my crushes have been on sensitive, nerdy types. They don't have common physical features, but then, I don't think my interest had much to do with what they look like, but more to do with how I hoped they might treat me. That they would be sweet, maybe, never talk to me the way my dad would talk to my mom, if you all want a bit of psychology to play with.

So, this is the month to think about dating, although unless you already have someone, it rarely gets beyond frustating thoughts. You never start dating someone in February, at least in my experience, because of all the lameness around Valentine's day. Which makes it all the lamer, because it makes you feel worse. And it is damp, and cold, and who feels like the effort of meeting someone new and then having to wonder about whether you should buy them tacky boquets of roses and baby's breath? So, this is actually the first year that I have a date, because Paddy and I have never been together on Valentine's day either. Way back when in Davis, we broke up that January because he didn't call me over Christmas. There was also the yellow rose birthday fiasco in Montreal, which pre-empted Valentines. I've always thought it was a lame holiday, but perhaps that was sour grapes. No, it certainly is lame, but it is important anyway. I remember my mom asked my dad's parents what they were doing for Valentines, and they said (rather self-righteously) that they didn't need a day to celebrate their love because they love each other all the time. I thought that was even lamer, so I guess you just can't win. Because I spend my days at a receptionist's desk with little to think about, I'm excited about it and I've already gotten his present. I bought a whiskey decanter and cocktail set because his place has a built-in bar, although I'd probably have been better off buying a pair of leopard print underpants and calling it a night. I've also already told him what to buy me: opera tickets. I'll be pretty cranky if he gets me something else, because I also asked for them for Christmas and my birthday.

xanthium at 9:19 a.m.

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