Sparkle Bunnies! I feel like it’s been so long! Two silent days for a girl with as many feelings as myself is an awfully long time. So today’s post will feature the Friday love list I neglected to post yesterday morning since I woke up on an air mattress on my grandma’s living room floor (actually I woke up twice – my mom had to re-inflate my nest in the night); a general update on what’s goin’ down in the house of Rosie Glow, because let me tell you, last week was a WEEK; and a humorous but not untrue inventory of qualifications that my hypothetical ideal male has. Women and disgruntled manfriends alike, feel free to weigh in.
K, so first thing first: a big part of the reason this past week was a little rough is that I’ve been feeling crappy… but not cold or flu-crappy… wack hormones-crappy. I’ve been burdened by imbalanced and ever fluctuating hormones since I was wee, but because I’m optimistic to a fault (and also because I’m easily overwhelmed and prone to procrastination), I only think to really tackle the problem when it becomes a problem, you know what I’m sayin’? I’ll try to avoid my TMI tendencies here on the internets, but sleep weirdness; mega-anxiety; majorly irregular, daily or nonexistent lady cycles; and fluctuating degrees of extreme skinniness have always given me reason to pursue whatever issues I’ve got… but those pursuits were always half hearted because I knew in my churning gut that a HUGE, huge cause of my issues was my tumultuous relationship with food and my body. No more! Now that I’ve rebuilt that personal bond with self-lovin’, baby, I’m finally in a position to get to the root cause of my struggles – and to trust that those struggles aren’t self-inflicted. All this to say, I’m workin’ on it… but the past week I’ve been especially unfocused/cranky/fatalistic. Anywho, I have all sorts of theories for all of the above. I just need a doctor to agree with me and then I’ll be the zen, hippie mama I’ve always wanted to be!
Bomb. Now I can blame my crackpot hormones for any nonsense that comes out of my mouth heretofore (like “heretofore.”) First on the agenda of musings I don’t necessarily want to hold myself accountable for airing to the universe: qualities of my dream man. Listen, I heart being a single lady, but mayyyyybe if I met the unicorn I’m about to describe, I’d consider hearting coupledom instead. Just maybe.
The Rosie Glow Shangri-la Beau:
- Must be as fun (re: embarrassing) as I am and therefore not embarrassed by the innumerable embarrassing things I do, like beet cake photoshoots, burlesque operas (more on this fab experience to come!), dancing like a Charlie Brown character, and always insisting on going out in costume according to a theme determined by ME, i.e. painted tribal skank/Ke$ha, technicolor Gatsby glam or creatures of the forest. Bam.
- Must have or be in the process of pursuing a fulfilling career and must have some interest in making money. I don’t want to be no sugar mama! (But I reserve the right to change my mind when I’m in my sixties and the pickings are slim.) Must, likewise, support me in my quest for gratifying, well paid work. I find myself digging corporate creative types, but I would happily date an investment banker if he loved investment banking. Did you hear that, girlfrans who keep trying to set me up with artists? Dude does not have to live in Pilsen, have an Emmy (seriously, who keeps giving these guys in their twenties Emmys?!), or run a screen printed t-shirt business to fund his ironic moustache maintenance rituals. When all is said and done, I WANT TO BE THE QUIRKY ONE.
- That said, must have man style. There is some corporate creative overflow here: slim cut pants, button downs that fit, sweaters and bow ties are appreciated. Okay, scratch that – obviously, that is MY version of man style. Must acknowledge and enjoy that he can express himself by how he dresses and grooms himself and must do so in a way that isn’t gross. Fair?
- Must be independent and must cherish said independence. I’m totally cool with Dream Man needing alone time – in fact, I insist that Dream Man disappears to do his thang, whatever said thang may be as long as it isn’t making out with someone who is not me. And duh… I would expect the same. We all know that I need to hide sometimes.
- Must be a self aware, responsible, straightforward communicator. Did I mention that I LIKE TO BE THE QUIRKY ONE? Let me put that another way: Dream Man can and must be quirky. Dream Man cannot be flaky. Or confusing. Or perpetually confused.
- Must be health minded. I’ve never dated a fellow vegan, but I guess Dream Man is vegan! This is my pie-in-the-sky checklist after all, and it would be so easy if Dream Man lived on salads and smoothies of his own accord. Even better: Dream Man cooks. And in terms of health’s wider scope: Dream Man is in tune with his emotions and can see that mental and physical health work in conjunction to yield happiness. Dream Man just wants to be happy.
- This is important after all of the above: Dream Man likes women. More specifically Dream Man likes me, and he likes the version of myself that I like most – this lady – the self that I’m striving for.
Is all that too much to ask? Don’t answer that. I love a lot of things, but in the interest of NOT putting you right back to sleep on this Saturday morning, my love list is short and sweet: the fly women of my family; my family at large, and a big fun trip we’re planning in May; getting valentines in the mail from friends who are way cuter and more put together than I am; yoga sculpt… and if I can do down dog with free weights, you can, too!; vitamin D supplements in THIS ENDLESS WINTER (drama), Prabal Gurung’s new line for Target and my understanding pals with whom I had to break super fun weekend plans because I’m ailing 😦
Who’s your dream man/lady? What are you grateful for this week? Any other frenzied, hormonal readers out there? Can you think of more disparate points for a blog post than the three I just mentioned?!?!
XOXO forever and ever,