rambling about love like the 25 year old grandmother I am

A.P. + R.D.

Lately, conversations between me and my friends obsessively circle around the always popular and heady topic of romance. Of course, this theme encapsulates everything from breaking up, making up, to making out, PER USUAL. I’m reminded of the sleepover- and jungle gym- discussions from my youth, only slightly more x-rated. Just slightly. Right. Could it be that the winter season with its crisp air, face-numbing winds, and movie-cheese (got to re-live Father of the Bride last week), jump-starts those reckless emotions that we pass off as PMS? Or are we suddenly in our mid-twenties, and questioning all matters of the heart? Then there are the Facebook updates about engagements, marriages, and former jump-ropin homies getting preggers. Has it really been 7 years since I graduated high school? And while people are making life-altering commitments, I’m still planning the finite details of my romantic trajectory. By planning, I’m really using a “process of elimination” to narrow down what exactly it is I’m looking for, romantically. So far, the experience has been enlightening. As I emotionally, mentally, and physically connect and clash with different people, I also slowly understand what it is I DON’T want, or abhor. And this is so much easier than starting off with an unrealistic and therefore, impenetrable checklist. Man of my dreams does not have to be well-versed in Swiss typography, but he certainly cannot be socially retarded. The M.O.M.D. doesn’t have to don APC head to toe, but he can’t be self-involved. And the non-list goes on. And with the new year ahead, I demand that all of my friends try this new technique of finding love- which more or less has to do with finding yourself first.

And with that- for those of you with a nerd fetish, the above photo courtesy of-


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