Just a good fit...

Men, I have concluded, must be like buying a pair of jeans.
There are TONS of them out there.
Skinny.
Curvy.
Surprisingly loud, flared legs at the bottoms.
Bedazzled types, with sparkles and sequins and flashy appeal.
Boot-legged and laze-about the house ones,
Rugged ripped up, mother patched-up, pre-damaged types...
All in any color wash you can think of.

But here's the knock.
You don't find the perfect one every time you shop.
Oh contraire.
You almost NEVER do.
And when you find that "perfect pair,"
It's one of those incredible, breath of fresh air, oh my GOD moments, as if your bottom half might just scream out-
"Finally, something that makes our ass look human!"
"At last, a voice for us curves!"
"They don't clutch our waist like a corset!"
"They actually touch our toes!"
"I can actually SEE our toes!"
And the like...

But then again,
The perfect-fitting jeans do eventually wear out.
And there are other pairs that neeeearly fit, of course.
Some don't fit well at all, but we love them for... maybe the style or look of them.
Or maybe another pair you own looks TERRIBLE, but you love that pair most because, well, there is nothing quite like the comfort they provide you.

Regardless,
I don't believe in the "perfect pair of jeans," anymore per se.
I believe in near-perfect.
Because I still think there may be a pair out there that may fit me better.
Even when I discover a pair I adore, even when they fit like a glove, even when they make me feel like my legs are gliding thru space and time,
I still know there might be something better...

And I think a girl seeking out the dating life must be aware of this metaphor.
It helps cheer her when she feels her spotlight as a social butterfly begin to flag.
It boosts her when her confidence is plunged through dirt and debris from the hem of a man cut too stiff for her fitting.
There will be another fit.
There will be another seam.
And even when the "perfect fit" is seemingly found,
And she decides to buy and wear him...
If something happens, say
He is torn to shreds,
He busts a hole in the knee,
He fits your shape no longer...
There can be another,
If you decide you are ready to search again.

So, quit worrying about your perfect fit!
(I often have to remind myself of this sometimes.)
Just worry about yourself.
Be in your best shape and form.
Be in the form you want to be fitted.
And then keep yourself that way.
Or even better.
That way, when that amazing pair comes into your line of vision,
You are well prepared
And most importantly,
A good fit.

:)

...

If I get the hook,
Will you get off my stage already??

:P

Poor Little Fool

What wrecks my soul most?
My love of the insincere?
My contagion for the lost and sewn-up heart,
Badgered again and again for bruised drugs
And bad economy?

I want you,
The fickle and wild, sleazy, cool sludge.
Why can't I find trembling sweetness
In the embrace of sturdy, honest oak??
Shall I die not knowing why??
Shall I be doomed to crave pagan intimacy,
And live out my days pining for a kind of love
That shall always leave me destitute and thirsting??
Do we ever get tired of wanting to fall in love?
Can a human like me ever be satisfied with just the bare facts,
The sitting quietly and calmly in love?
The couch romance- close together, never wondering-
The "Content to Take in Television Chatter
And Fall Snoring Asleep in Front of the Ballgame" courtship??

Ay, me.
I fear the worst.
Ugh.
Love,
Thou art a tempestuous fool!
And your hold on me is anything but forthright...

Will I ever be able to justify you??
To anyone??
Or more importantly,
...To myself?

To Professor, With Love

This song was given to me by a dear friend, and so I dedicate it back to him. He's gone back down south, but his lovely sarcasm is very fondly missed here in Chicago. And so, to Rex Harrison, with my sincerest gratitude:

Back Down South
-Kings of Leon

"Come on down and dance,
If you get the chance,
We're gonna spit on the rival.
All I wanna know,
Is how far you wanna go,
Fighting for survival.

Underneath the stars,
Where we parked the cars,
Ain't showing signs of stopping.
Pretty little girls,
Naked to their curls,
Ready to lay in the coffin.
If you wanna go,
I'm gonna go,
I gotta fire burning.
Come on take my hand,
Hope you see your man,
Baby's gonna be a big one.
Baby's gonna be a big one.

If you see the lights,
and we hear the fights,
It's gonna be a stunner.
I've got something here,
If you give me one more beer,
I'm gonna call a runner.
I don't want to say,
What I have to say,
If I'm a' kicking off now.
If you wanna go,
I'm gonna go,
I'm going back down south now.
I'm going back down south now.
I'm going back down south now.

If you wanna go,
I'm going back down south now.
Go on take my hand,
I'm going back down south now.
Wait 'til you see the light,
And we hear those fights,
I'm going back down south now.
I don't want to know,
How far you wanna go,
I'm going back down south now.

I'm going back down south now.
I'm going back down south now.
I'm going back down south now.
Oh, yeah.
I'm going back down south now."