How I Met the Manfolk of My Dreams

img_2320-1I have the most bitchin’, fantabulous hubby a chick could ever want! After years of dating both dreamboats and douche nozzles, how did I snag this delightful specimen when I was at the ripe old age of 32? Well, here are the 3 actions I took……

The very first action I took was no longer giving a shit if I was married. Before Jim, I was with the dude I thought would be my matrimonial mate–oh my goodness, he was divine, our relationship was sublime, and the wedding bells were ringing loudly in my ears-DING! DONG! DING! DONG!  In reality, the only ding dong in this picture was me; our fire fizzled for reasons still unknown to me now (almost 20 years later), I ended it, and commenced on my path of Being  A Bitter Bitch Toward All Those with a Penis. Matrimony, schmatrimony-I tossed that idea right into the crapper.

Once I finished my stint as the Bitter Bitch, I felt peaceful about being single for the rest of my days. I had my friends, family, was going to attend graduate school for a fulfilling career which I was totally crazy about it, I had the money to travel–what the hell else did I need? Certainly not a dude.

Here was the second thing I did that brought us to domestic bliss: I decided it was time to date again. Screw marriage- I have always loved the guys, so why not have some fun? I concocted the idea of telling the Universe exactly what qualities I wanted in a dude to date, requested that he arrive when the time was right, and asked that the Universe imbue him with any other traits I might desire. I repeated this prayer once daily, forgot about it, and proceeded to simply groove on my life as an unattached
free spirit.

Enter Jim. I had previously decided that there was no way in hell this guy and I had anything in common.I had zero interest in dating him. Hippies, artists, and musicians were my men; not attorneys sporting short hair wearing-GASP!!!–Dockers! Ewwww! He looked like a member of the Young Republicans group. A cute one, but ……uh, no.

This leads me to the third thing I did –I forgot about what my “type” of potential male had been, and I allowed myself to try someone different. I plunked down beside him on a Friday night at a party, observed his curly hair, his nose and said “MEOW!”, and soon adored his wit and intelligence. Within a few hours, I knew I was going to ask him out. I could tell he was shy, and he was not getting away from me. I wanted to try him on for size.

He fit. Like a glove! And I was SO in love–and I still am.

Five and a half months later, at 2:36 am, I giddily accepted his proposal.  And he still fits, after almost 17 years together and almost 16 years of connubial cohabitation. I love this dude with my whole heart and soul like I never have anyone else.

I did it. You can too.

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