"Oh you'll like him, he's just like you."

This is for all the singletons. Have you ever had that person in your life -- friend, family member, coworker -- who wants to set you up? And as a bonus they had this variation of the line to the mix: "oh you'll like so and so he's similar to you."

that is the biggest turn-off. almost worse than back hair.

Here's why. I like to think of myself as COCO.

Confident
Outgoing
Creative
Opinionated

I don't want my other half to be similar to me. In fact the only things I want us to have in common our sense of humor, love for sports and some intellect. Otherwise nothing else. Sure there are values, respect, honesty, blah, blah, blah, that shit means nothing to me. I'm concerned about the first three, after that the rest just falls into place.

Here's is why I am totally turned off my people who say I should meet someone similar to myself. After COCO, I value independence and individuality, I like to think there is one and only ME and I am on a platform, not in platforms, all by myself. Sure others can be parallel or even on a similar shaped platform, but that there is some difference. I've never wanted to be like anyone else (thank you mother for that trait) and have always gone to the beat of my own drumming, even if no one else heard the rthymn (sp check, that word has always stumped me, prolly why i got a lower ACT score 24)

Second, if you are an outgoing person, the last thing you want to date is another outgoing person. Why? Because then you start to fight for attention. Which is why none of my boyfriends have ever been outgoing except maybe my first serious one in 8th grade. And BTW is was way too pretty for me.

Which is point three - you never want to date someone prettier than you. It brings up weird issues. Just trust me on this, puh-leeze.

I guess I like subtle confidence, unlike my brazen self. It balances out the equation. And I guess I like boys to be creative in their own way, it just shouldn't be in the form of writing, sports or pop culture references. I feel the need to dominate these and become freakishly competitive. That I blame on being and oldest child.

Opinionated. Similar to creative and confidence but not in the mentioned above areas. So really now that I've stumbling upon this I just don't want an outgoing personality. Nope I think them introverted, mumblers with the quick one-liners. It balances me out. Do you think I could handle someone that labeled themselves Mr. Mpls? No, because I'd become meaner than I already am. The downfalls to having a quick, snappy brain, sometimes it works against you and you'd say things you'd prolly shouldn't have said. But when that happens you have to go into "closer mode" like a closer in baseball, shake it off and have no fear for the next comment. Because just like a relief pitcher, once I start to think consciously I've lost my mojo. Poof!

Now I'm tangled in tangents and the Twins are about to start. I hope they score another 16 runs, since that's the average of their last two games. Although knowing the Twins they could now go on a skid of four shutouts. But I don't see that happening because the Twinkies rule in July and the All-Star game is just around the corner.

Where have all my good thoughts gone?

Upon my arrival to the stoop I call home I was full of ideas. Brilliant ideas. I could be the next person to win "You are Full of Brilliant Ideas" on ABC. Oh wait, that's not a show. Well it sounds like something stupid that would be on ABC or Fox. But as I was saying. Unplug me from the world for a week and my brain is on overdrive. Almost overkill. So many good ideas. And now that I've plugged back into the world, checked my email, ESPN.com and other favorite daily sites my ideas .... down the shitter. Or into there usual abyss.

And it's frusterating. I think, besides losing the ability to communicate, ALZHEIMERS, would be a serious form of torture/slow death for myself. Really, if I'm freakin out over some tangents that I thought of, can you image my horror when I won't recognize my would-be-someday-children? Jesus, if that's not depressing.

Here's another killer. I switch between apple laptop and PC. Excessive, I know. but I'm really good with the keyboard control keys, instead of just clicking on the icon. And now, since I've been unplugged with the world for a week, I can't recall how to un-italize. Sick. But also fairly amusing.

Thought I'd share that with you kiddies.

I'm thinking of writing a book. Well a collection of short stories. And if I dream about not becoming successul, that maybe success will fall into my lap, just like the birds that seem to always nail my driver's side window. Bastards. I really do think it is like that Farside with birds. That we people to them are just moving bullseyes to shit on.

Back to my book. Well the idea of writing something that could be published by an orignial printer and not just in cyberland. My vanity totally plays in with the idea of writing a book. Because I want to be almost famous. Not Kate Hudson, bandaids, and all that stuff. I want to be semi-famous, kinda like Dan Wilson from Semisonic, but without the glasses.

And if I ever decide to reveal myself you can guarantee I will share a story about one of those sentences in the mentioned above paragraph, but until then ... I carry on.

Here's my ego when it comes to Almost Famous, my version of it anyways, not Cameron Crowe's. I want to publish something and have it received like how City Pages adores Diablo Cody. So then when my proex photo is elegantely displaced on the jacket sleeve, (you gotta follow that rule. who's too cool to put their face on the inside sleeve of their book? not this girl. i whole heartedly object to face on covers of books, not a fan of that move, but the sleeve, all for it.) so my mug tactfully displaced on the inside cover. and then i will be grocery shoppin on some saturday morning when some woman says to me
"excuse me miss. i don't mean to be rude, but are you so-and-so who wrote -whatchamacallit"

And I will beam from ear to ear. Why? Because that's my vanity and ego rolled into one.

Which makes me think of beauty. I don't know why at the moment. I know I am not beautiful. Cute, check. Sometimes pretty, when the moment fancies. But beautiful, never have been. And over the weekend it occurred to me why I am not considered beauty on the outside. It has nothing to do with self-confidence or I wasn't loved as a child bullshit, it's because I have flaws.
And I think my flaws are strung together with good intentions and sarcasm. I embrace my flaws, even the premature stretch marks I can see coming. Because the imperfections I think are the best part of me and they are my favorite things when you share your life with other people. Sure mom can be wonderful, but her cooking is awful. And you can insert a different loved one into the equation and then switch the adjectives around. Aaaahhh, imperfections. They are great. And I embrace them. That is until I discovered crows feet.

I Couldn't Stay Away

what does it say, when i'm on vacation and find an internet connection and feel compelled to blog? i think it says i'm lame, or pathetic.

i got another rejection letter. and poor boy called me all excited because they sent me a package, returning my writing samples, only to tell me "thank you for your interest, blah, blah, blah."

i'm getting more and more convinced that i'm going to work as a consultant or go into business myself. screw it. because if no one wants to hire me or doesn't seem my ultimate upside potential possibilites -- fuck 'em.

now that that is out of my system i have been enjoying myself at the lake. yesterday and friday were both fantastic and tonight will be fish fry, which you can't go wrong with that. followed by making our way to zorba's for the twins/tigers game and driving the el camino. that's right. i'm gonna repeat myself. a 197g grey el camino. does life get more fantastic than that? please don't respond.

people i know are getting ready to leave for NYC. which makes me laugh at or more with them. there are five NYC virgins and they are spending time trying to get a different hotel room. one should not care what the room looks like. you are hardly going to be there people. really. why don't you listen to me?? i've been there at least a dozen times and there are still things i haven't gotten around to seeing. and do you know what i use the room for? to shower and sleep. that's it. silly rabbits. so they are using the other computer and i am trying hard not to mock them. hence why i type?
:)

but the other cool thing of the weekend (so far) is passing on my love for the gilmore girls to the next generation. it's fantastic. it puts a smile to my face. i can't wait to name my daughter Lorelai, much to the father's dismay. i'll write more in minneapolis. happy 4th people!