My look is quite misleading.
I have a sweet face, framed by a fall of light brown almost golden curls (well, I actually have red fire shaved on one side hair, but these are just details), and for nothing in the world people would think “this is a B**ch”.
This is what we are talking about!
I do not easily fall in love. Just ask those poor wretches of my former guys.
It is not in my attitude: I do not cry for a romantic movie (indeed if I can, I totally avoid to watch it!), the animal puppies do not send me into raptures (but human puppies yes, I admit, how beautiful are those small smelly feet???), I hate to go shopping (except for books), I stain myself when I eat and I am literally allergic to the word “marriage”.
And so what, would you say, there are other girls like that. Obvious. The point is that maybe they do not have my sweet face.
Let’s also say that I am skinny, short and white as the moon, I’m not surprised if boys think of me as a porcelain doll to be protected.
I had my good years, I have to say, especially when I became the Pretty Princess after the Ugly Betty era
I was full of suitors, everyone attracted by the illusory angelic face… but the problem arised immediately at that timeand it’s the same today as soon as they know me and then remain astonished by my personality.Ok, I must confess that my talking about fairy tales, books and trips can be confusing even more, but on the other hand I prefer beer to wine, the pizza to salad, a video game to gossip …. Don’t you get even a clue, guys? A warning alarm?
However, it seems it’s now the time of weddings and children. Not necessarily in this order. Facebook is literally overwhelmed with photos of my former schoolmates who bear kids or trothappy (??) to the altar. This implies that they continue to wonder when I’ll get my act together . Because I am going to be 30 this month
, so it could be time to settle down, now that the biological clock is ticking (OMG!), that the best men have already been taken ( mah!), and that if I wait too much then I’ll end up being alone in an apartment with fifteen cats.
Since the idea of having so much dust of cats mantle puts me in the same anxiety of “and they lived together forever”, I gave in and I said “okay, come on, let’s see what’s out there.”
When old people told me that with the age I would have become more and more severe , I laughed. I thought that being already a pain in the ** I could not get any worse.Now there’s nothing to laugh about it!
Basically my list of “no” has gone from post-it to the Divine Comedy level
– I’d prefer going out with a known serial killer rather than a vegan
– I do not tolerate those who do not read (and Mickey Mouse novels are also fine! As long as they read!)
– Or those who don’t travel
– Or those who talk only in a dialect.
– If you do not know who Guns And Roses, Queen, Nirvana and The Rolling Stones are, you don’tdeserve my attention (and I do not say that they should love them, but at least know them !! Holy cow … how can you not know their songs, where did you grow up, on another galaxy? )
– I just can not imagine myself with one that doesn’t have any purpose and doesn’t do his best to achieve it
– I could not accept someone who talks for more than an hour about sports
– I do not accept those without an informed opinion, the claptrap can be used only with irony …
– IRONY, holy, holy irony, I can not hang out with those who take themselves too seriously
– If you have longer hair than mine it is a problem
– I believe that there should be a special round in Hell for those who eat pizza with fork and knife
and a lot, a lot, more.
In fact I am surprised that despite all these vetoes I find types to hang out with.
Of course I’m sure to return myself in a long series of “no” (I mean, I have short hair, small breast, I am too low, too white, I talk too much, you may find yourself placed on my blog, etc.) .
Then never mind, everyone has his whims!
Close friends, family, acquaintances, the baker, the postman, the passerby, the old men on the benches, and even the characters of TV series
everyone agrees that one day, magically, I will change, I will meet someone who will make me forget every point on the list because I’ll be so fogged up about Loooooooove that the rest does not count anymore. And since they all think I’m not working hard enough to find this great love, they try to mate me with anyone: the son of the brother of the grandson of the cousin’s uncle, the first who walk without the wedding ring, I can not talk to a Billy-equipped that they immediately start betting on him as the winner, totally sure (them), that sooner or later I will surrender.
I already image them, all ready to say IToldYouSo, and the ” they lived happily ever after”
I don’t’ kwon why, but to me it continues to sound like an intimidation!