Dreamy Dream Boy

You know I have a few self-imposed rules about blogging. Although it feels like a diary-since when I write in it, it is just me and the screen-and that feels private, I do not treat it like a diary.

Certain subjects are off-limits. I don't have a hard and fast rule about which subjects or topics, but generally anything about my love life is not written about; my crushes and my crushing defeats, friendship troubles, or anything that I think could be taken as a personal affront to a specific individual, and certain stupid things I am wont to do that I cannot make light of or make fun of just yet-mostly those things stay OFF the internet.

But today I am throwing that rule out the window in order to swoon.

Yes, SWOON.

I don't usually go all gaga for a man, at least any more. Life and years have taught me that no matter what a person looks like, their character is ever so much more important to me and inevitably detracts from or improves their physical appearance ten-fold.

It used to be that I could see a good-looking guy on the train and spend months generally excited about him, and genuinely believing in a possible future between him and me. After awhile, I began to reflect on my dating history and realized that the ratio of men I meet to men I can actually talk to for longer than 5 minutes about anything at all is about 1,000:1. Looks on the train lost all meaning, and the bar experience lost all lustre.

Then I took it a step further, and realized the ratio of men I can talk to, to men who have compatible senses of humor with me is about 100,000:1 as well. Then I got standards and also realized that the ratio of men I could talk to, that thought I was funny AND that I thought were handsome, was about 1,000,000,000:1.

And since it is really hard to meet 1000 men, and the liklihood of having all those things work for me specifically is really small.....I have a 'realistic' point of view. In other words, I rarely swoon. I rarely get excited about someone BEFORE I have ever spoken to him. Once I speak to him and he passes the 'can we hold a conversation' test, my interest peaks but never does it raise to that level of amazing....and a secret part of me thinks this will not happen until he really is the husband that I am expecting.

And never-the-less, three weeks ago, I met a guy who makes me swoon. 'Met' is not really the right word, since technically I met him today. He tried to talk to me today but I got all giddy and left. Oh, but he is my kind of dreamy. My kind of everything, which is a little scary because it's been a LONG time since I have been this swoony.

He plays at the beach and he is soooooooooo dreamy, I get all fluttery thinking about him. The good news is, though he is handsome, he is a unique enough of a handsome that I do not fear any of my other volleyball female friends will fall for him, so no competitive worries. But at this point I do not know if he is married-he ought to be because he has a million dollar smile and oh.....yes.....I'm still swoony, even here, at the library. I literally ran away from him today. I felt all sweaty and gross and full of sand. Which I was-sweaty and gross and full of sand. Not my most beautiful. Sigh. Kind of doesn't matter though.

Oh. My. Swoon swoon swoon swoon.

Dare I give revealing details? He is not from the US. He is OLDER. He is physically my type. He wears glasses. That is all I am willing to share, not too revealing, I know. But it is what it is. Sigh.

Ok I am done.

BTW-sand was so hot I actually acquired 3rd degree burns on parts of my bottom feet. It hurts to walk right now. I need to bring my sand socks next time. When I see my dreamy future lover.....ah ok. Seriously. If I had a picture of him I would totally post it on my wall and look at it regularly, just like a teenager. I am very giddy right now. Oooo, what if he liked me back? How exciting.

Ok I am done. For real.