My type(s)

The other day, I was texting a new man when the subject of types came up.

Laugh now.

I have a type.

Bearded.

Type A personality.

Outdoorsman.

Adventurous.

Mike Rowe, basically.

Or John Krasinski.

But not those crazy quackers on Duck Dynasty.

Those beards are NASTY, long and unkempt.

I prefer trim and neat.

So a little lumberjack, but not full-on bush man.

This guy, while clean shaven, has some pictures on his profile with him sporting a full beard, so I know he’s got it in him to grow one.

As we were discussing my “type,” I realized that having a “type” doesn’t just apply to the men I date, it also applies to the dogs I love.

I give you Exhibit A:  My two dogs:

Wendy on the left and Mac on the right.

Clearly, I’m a German shepherd girl.

And white German shepherds at that.

Truthfully, I occasionally come across a Tinder profile where there is a bearded man who has a white German shepherd dog, and I ALWAYS swipe right.

Beards and WGSDs?!

Sign up me!

What’s your type?

A group of friends and I were discussing our “types.”

As in what type of man do we find ourselves attracted to.

Me, I go for lumberjacks – bearded and outdoorsy.

My friend Allison said her type was Germanic.

And then our friend Adele admitted that the type of man she goes for is the kind who hates her, deep down.

We were floored.

It’s one thing to like beards.

You wind up dating lots of bearded men.

It’s another thing to wind up with men who have an underlying dislike of you.

I could hear the truth in what she was saying though, and it hurt to think of what she had been through in order to actually identify “hates me” as her type.

We asked for clarification.

“Well, they don’t come at me FULL ASSHOLE,” she explained.

At first, they’re nice and caring.

But then something changes and they turn into an asshole with her.

Personally, I can relate to her mindset.

I too have dated men who started out nice and caring but who evolved into critical, misogynistic partners.

Once I met a guy who would bully me when he didn’t get his way.

He swore up and down what a great boyfriend he was and how much he loved women.

But then he texted me nasty messages when I wouldn’t do what he wanted.

He’d go back and forth, being nice to me trying to change my mind, then call me a bitch when I wouldn’t do as he said.

I got away from him as quick as I could.

It’s hard for me to give advice about men, considering that I really believe many of the single men out there are porn addicts who use women and are afraid of connection with other human beings.

But if I were to say one thing, it would be to look for the good men, and when you discover his true colors, and they aren’t as appealing as they were when you met him. . .

R U N !

Preparing for the zombie apocalypse

The other day, I was chatting with a friend about being attracted to a specific “type” of man.

Seeing as how he was front row center when I flirted with his friend at Burning Man, my friend said that I CLEARLY have a type.

And it’s true.

I am not one to be attracted to men in suits, although I like a man who can get dressed up.

I like a man in jeans and a tight t-shirt who sports a beard.

Yup.

I like them scruffy and down-to-earth.

Think Mike Rowe on Dirty Jobs and you’ve got an idea of what appeals to me.

Now, I’m not saying that I never go against type.

I’ve had two boyfriends who didn’t fit the mold.

I’m just saying they had a uphill battle and I will always, ALWAYS find myself attracted to the biggest, baddest, scruffiest man in the room.

Some women are attracted to fancy cars, wealth and expensive suits.

I’m attracted to trucks, 5 o’clock shadows and callused hands.

I’m not sure where this comes from.

My DNA is still in “caveman mode” and is attracted to men who can handle a gun, park a fifth wheel, and barbecue like they were born in a Weber grill.

Clearly my inner woman is preparing for the zombie apocalypse and wants a big, strong man to look after me.

Because who cares what kind of a car you drive or how much money you have in the bank when there are zombies trying to eat your brain?