The prefect man

So my friend and I were having a philisophical conversation about our ideal men. Not the romantice, sweeps you off your feet ideal, but the ideal for the situation in which we live. That situation being, one single mom who spends 11 months out of the year absolutely dedicated to being mom. Two, strong willed woman who spends most of her time at work, or working on graduate school or both, three, an independant soul who dreads the idea of doing anything anyway but my own.

Its blunt and over simplified, but its also me. So my perfect man, is attractive, smart, comes over when I want him, leaves when I'm done with him, lets me keep to myself when I want or need to do so, and is smart enough to keep up with my sense of humor. Sadly does not exsist.

So, I've spent a few weeks being wilder then I should. I've met a few guys. Like R, who is hotter then hot, and fairly smart, who shows up at the KP and flirts all night, keeps me in liquor, and takes us out to waffle house when the bar closes. But who shows up wasted before anyone else has started, can't respond to a text message and gets grabby when he's overly drunk AFTER ignoring me all evening. There's mike who runs a million dollar bussiness, but who can't quit talking about money. And there's j, who is smart and cute and sweet and who even I can manage to shock on occasion.

Lots of lines in the water. Lots of nibbles. Not a whole lot else going on. But damn, why can't I keep one as a pet. Seriously R is hot. A mess, but a hot one. M is rich as hell, and in love with me he claims, and J is like a grown up harry potter.

And its quite possible that drunken blogging is a bad idea.