Secret Life of a Nerd Girl: The Mr. Awesome List
A blogumn by Gudrun Cram-Drach
I have been single for while. For a recovering serial monogamist, 8 months is a while. I know, world’s tiniest violins from some of you, but I’m not complaining. When I’m not panicking about my childbearing years being frittered away on grad school and meaningless flings, I’m having the time of my life. I’ve met some interesting characters, and through my experience, I’ve come up with a list of suggestions for all potential Mr. Awesomes:
Height: minimum 5’9”. Anything shorter and we will look like a hobbit couple.
Body type: thick but not fat. The taller you are the thinner you may be. Do NOT have extra fat around your hips or ass. But don’t be gaunt, unless it’s heroin chic.
Don’t smoke. I quit 2 years ago and tar-tongue is nasty.
If your hair line is receding it must be managed. Please do not attempt to conceal your thinning hair with an inch long Jew-fro. A 1/4 inch buzz cut is acceptable. I will help you with the back.
Don’t wear a lot of shirts that say things on them, unless they are really, really funny.
If you’re a performer I’ll probably do you.
Thick arms are good, but small hands will worry me even though I know the correlation is a myth because my best friend’s former fuck-buddy had tiny feet and a giant dong. A tiny dick is not a deal-killer but will always be a disappointment.
Be able to pick me up and throw me.
A sheltered suburban childhood is acceptable if your personality is dark enough to shadow it.
If you laugh at therapy and think people “on prozac” are crazy losers while you yourself could benefit from some time on the couch, you should die alone.
Allergies to cats are a sign of weakness.
Get my dry sense of humor.
Never say “I’m just kidding.” I know you’re kidding, and now I know you’re insecure.
Be an improvisational kisser.
Appreciate my wishful size eight with softening yoga arms and the occasional zit on my décolletage. Don’t mind that I sweat on occasion and might even burp or fart.
Do not walk into a party with me and say you’ll back me up, then get into a long deep name-dropping conversation trying to prove you are cool leaving me the only one at the whole party not talking to anyone.
Instructions are on the box. Read them. That’s what I do.
Don’t shirk if I cuddle up to you.
Don’t be afraid of marriage but understand that I may be.
Don’t tip-toe. Dance.
Do the work to make your dreams happen.
Have your own agenda and ink me in.
Never say “I don’t know what to say.”
Think of me when I’m not there.
And always remember, I’m awesome. Know it and live it.