This morning my ex boss stopped by my desk and asked me if I’d seen this. It’s viral she said, and I tossed back a silly comment about how it doesn’t seem to be viral in my circles because everyone I know is married. But then I went and Googled and I found it. It’s adorable. And really sad, because there is nothing about that ad that’s dramatic or shocking or wildly off the charts. (Though that’s probably because of the circles I move in, etc. It was a shock to me to realise my Tam Bram family is cray atypical.) It’s sad that this is something we think of as being so amazingly new, when clearly many people feel the same way. It also puts my own life into perspective eh?
The timing of this in very interesting because just yesterday I went on tinder for five minutes and after swiping left frantically with growing horror on my face I (first put the phone down) threw my hands up in the air and let out a silent scream. ‘Is it too much to ask?’ I said to my best friend, ‘is it too much to ask for the things I want in a guy? I mean, I just want him to be intelligent, have his shit under control and yeah maybe be taller than me. And, oh, yeah, single. It’s not like I’m putting all the ideal shit in there!’
So when I read that post I decided I’d also just once put that call out there. However extreme and idealistic and foolish it might be, and however much I know it’s ridiculous and irrational and not really going to happen, Mary Poppins might still manage to get my letter.
Is it too much to ask for an intelligent, tolerant, feminist, critical thinking, widely reading, salsa dancing, Spanish speaking, whiskey drinking, peaceful travelling, cat loving, polyamorous, confident but not cocky, 6-foot-tall single fully functional adult man who is comfortable with himself, likes to cook but likes me to cook too, is handy around the house, plays the guitar, likes people, genuinely appreciates strong women and can and will stand up for himself?
And then I went back into the dusty archives of all the blogs I’ve ever had and I found this. From seven years ago. Apparently my inner 16-year-old still has control. Which explains so much!
He’s tall, in the region of six feet. He is dark: he has dark hair and golden-brown skin. He is lean…not skinny but definitely not gross bulgy aliens-under-the-skin muscular. He loves to dance, salsa and tango and merengue especially. He plays the guitar, flamenco guitar. He’s articulate, fluent and expressive in English, Spanish and Portuguese. He’s Spanish or Latin American. He is passionate about life, and tolerant of passions he doesn’t understand. He makes me laugh. He dances the monkey ballet. He loves dumb charades, horsing about in the rain and cuddling. He is very happy to curl up on the couch with me and do his own thing while I do mine. He loves cats and children, and is ready to adopt five of each. He is at ease with people of all ages, all kinds and all backgrounds. He wants to make the world a better place. He loves food and he loves drink. He loves to cook and he loves to read. He has wanderlust, but once he gets to a new place he like to stay still for a while. He likes beaches and loves mountains with water-bodies, but most of all he loves cool mountains above sparkling beaches. He is an adult, and doesn’t need to be trained in the art of being a contributing part of a household. He adores me, and is ready to pretend to be teenagers every so often. He does ridiculous romantic things like leave me notes and send me flowers. He has to touch me when he’s nearby. He is as intelligent as I am, so he’s not intimidated and I’m not overwhelmed. He understands that difference does not mean discord. He is eager to learn about things that are not familiar. He is, of course, transcendental in bed :)