I have been thinking about my last post and the whole idea of re-entering the dating scene. I have convinced myself and several people around me that I will be dating no more. But, let's face it, dating and weight loss have a strong inverse relationship. As the weight goes down, the number of men knocking on your door definitely does up.
Why have I sworn off dating, you might ask? Trust me, it's not because I'm a man hater (or eater, as Hall and Oates would say) or because I have a "He done me wrong!!!" story to tell. It's that I've never been as happy or at peace in a relationship as out of one. Let me be more specific.
When the person you can't trust in this world is you, when you continually make and break promises to yourself and feel completely at the mercy of food, you tend to look for ways to micromanage other parts of your life to give yourself some feeling of control. You see it happen with eating disorders all the time. Only, in this instance, you feel unable to keep yourself from eating, so you find ways to control your environment and everything in it.
Over the past few years, I have become a newrotic scratchophobic. It's not a typo. It's true. I hate...HATE...scratches on things. And it's not one big scratch...I'd be more okay with that. It's the little scratches on things that drive me crazy. So when my friends go shopping with me, they get to see Elizabeth play "Let's find the most perfect whatever it is" as I pull each item off the shelf for a close inspection. It's not like I go Rain Man or anything. I don't fall to the floor and start rocking myself while screaming "Hot water burn baby!!!" It just has to be perfect or I don't buy it.
A scratchophobe. And a newrotic. I'm also obsessed with keeping things new. Pristine. Undefiled. Mint condition. We're talking everything from my Prius to the storage bins that go in my closet. I am not making it up when I say I have things plastic coated. I've had most of the Prius covered with a 3M film I have installed at a local dealer (auto accessory, not drug). And my laptop. And my luggage. My retro mint green sofa is covered, not in plastic, but a sheet. And, did I mention? I'm also a carpet nazi who makes people abandon their shoes at the door.
SO you can see how this could drive anyone besides Monk (not Gregorian, but Tony Shalhoub) crazy. And I'm happy this way, so what to do? There are dating websites for Jews, Christian Scientists, born-again Christians, boys who want to meet girls, girls who want to meet boys, boys who want to meet boys, girls who want to meet girls, people who only want to hook up, people who only want to get married, and people who like to fly fish. But is there a dating pool for people who color coordinate their closets and alphabetize their pantries?
Have you ever heard of something called a turducken? It's a chicken stuffed in a duck stuffed in a turkey. While I've never partaken myself, I sure wish this was a menu option when selecting potential life partners. Personally, I'd like to see a Tony Shalhoub stuffed into a Bill Rancic stuffed into a Will Ferrell.
A Willanoub...Check, please!