I'm just an animal looking for a home



Current Mood: tired
Current Music: Violent Femmes – Raquel

I was reading through my old journal tonight (written on paper, not available to public). I started writing it in 1989. All of the entries, except the most recent, bug me. I don’t like what I wrote, pretty much. I feel like I’m a different person. But that makes me wonder — will I feel the same way about my current self in 5 or 10 years? Not that I want to look that far into the future. Ten years from now I’ll be 34. That seems impossible. 24 is only barely comprehensible. I don’t know what age I imagine myself being, but it’s probably 22 or something.

I’m still not sure about my ideal girl, but I’ll give it a shot later in this entry.

I went to the dentist today. He had to put a cap on my tooth. Previously he’d done the drilling and stuff, and put a temporary on it. Today he had to put the permanent cap on it. Anyway, the first thing he had to do was pry the temporary off. Actually, he had his assistant do it. She took a pair of metal tongs and kinda twisted it until it came free. Turns out she only got part of it off, and he had to get the rest of it. Anyway, it hurt. Not like you’d imagine — it was like biting on tin foil, if you know the sensation. So it wasn’t pleasant, but once he got it off, I figured it was done. Oh no. Then he got the permanent, put it on, checked it, took it off, adjusted it, put it back on, etc. Every time he took it off or put it back on, it felt like biting on tin foil times ten. By the end of it I decided I would take advantage of this opportunity, and try to learn how to endure torture. I anticipated the pain and tried to keep a straight face throughout it. I was mostly successful.

I got home from the tooth doctor and went to sleep. It took me a while to get to sleep, because right before I’d fall asleep, I’d feel him messing with the tooth, which was basically a direct line to the nerve…but eventually I got to sleep.

That’s boring. Forgive me. It’s almost 7am on my day off. Soon I’ll be going to sleep, I guess, but until then you’ll have to put up with my rambling.

Okay, so my ideal woman. That’s really, really tough…

Physically I can be the least specific. I think I prefer dark-haired women, or red-haired women. But that’s not a big deal to me. Eye color doesn’t matter to me. Body shape, breast size, etc, I can’t be too specific about. I don’t like women who are huge, but beyond that, well, I just have to see them.

The non-physical characteristics are more important, but are also tougher. I have to respect her, and she has to respect me. Ideally she is intelligent, creative, funny. She likes the movies Bottle Rocket, Rushmore, and Kicking and Screaming. Music! She loves music. She doesn’t have to love the same music as me, but there has to be some overlap. Preferably she likes some punk and new wave. She likes animals, likes to explore, and likes to read. She enjoys playing sports, likes watching a baseball game. She laughs at my bad jokes, likes holding hands, and likes cuddling while we watch a movie at home. She likes Italian food. She doesn’t mind that I talk to my cats. She has her own interests, and respects that I have my own interests. She likes to kiss. She doesn’t smoke. She isn’t materialistic, but doesn’t hate money. She would break me out of a prison, if need be.

I can’t come up with more than that right now. Maybe it’s a good start. It’s the best I can come up with right now. Allison says I should just say she is my ideal woman, but I think she isn’t appreciating the real meaning of the word ideal. Allison is awesome, but ideal? That’s a tall order.

I am tired. This will have to do for now!


Author: mitcharf

vegan, curmudgeon, animal lover, feminist, agnostic, cat whisperer, bookworm, hermit, Red Sox fan, Cthulhu enthusiast, softball player, man-about-town

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