Sunday, July 18, 2010


                                                                    

Friday, July 16, 2010

Mr. Right Is Dead

My Facebook status:  My friend: "Eh, you'll find Mr. Right someday."  Me: "You're going to have to come to grips with the fact that he's dead so we can stop going over this all the time." 

I am approaching my 30th birthday in T-minus 1 month, 21 days, 13 hours, 36 minutes and 43 seconds, so I think it's time to say goodbye to my young adult notions of the man of my dreams.  This is my eulogy to Mr. Right:

This is a sad day for us all, we are here to say goodbye to Mr. Right.  You were a great man.  You had beauty, athleticism, and intelligence.  You made me laugh all day long and you understood my twisted sense of humor.  You were always the life of the party and my friends loved you.  Actually, I'm pretty sure a couple of my friends tried to sleep with you, but I forgive them, after all, you were Mr. Right.  You worked just as hard at work and in life in general as I do.  When I had a bad day I could always count on you to shut off the game and listen (listening to me is a job for ten normal men, so this one is just ridiculous).  You loved my kids like they were your own and you never got jealous that you had to come in third place in my heart.  You taught my son to throw a football so I didn't accidentally teach him to throw like a girl (there are plenty of girls who don't "throw like a girl", but I am certainly not one of them).  You taught my daughter that there are good men out there and she should wait for one.  But now you are just a very pretty pile of ashes so I am going to say my final goodbye.   Goodbye my love.

I guess I will have to settle for Not-So-Mr. Right: The man, who comes over, eats my food, dirties up my dishes, farts on my furniture, and watches the TV more than he listens to me.  Hopefully he doesn't drink too much, too often, or come home late from the bar smelling like whiskey and puke wanting to make out with me.  Dear God, if I must settle for Not-So-Mr. Right please do me a favor and make him able to satisfy me in bed (also a job for ten normal men).  You know you owe me this one God.  Oh, and one more thing...please make sure he has no porn, alcohol, or drug addictions, he's not a cheater, pedophile, masochist, narcissist, compulsive liar, bi-polar, manic depressive, schizophrenic, suicidal, or sociopathic.  Amen. 
Let us all say goodbye to my Mr. Right once and for all and not mention him ever again because it’s just too painful.  When you meet my Not-So-Mr. Right just pretend like you like him, for my sake.  Laugh at his bad jokes and please don’t mention that giant mole on his forehead.  Just wait until I’m out of ear shot to make fun of him.  Thanks.  I knew I could count on you.