flashback friday (2007)...

'How to Marry A Nice Guy When All You Really Want is an Asshole...' November 30, 2007

It’s finally raining in LA. It’s far overdue. I relish the rain. It’s calming and cozy and makes me want to snuggle up under a blanket and read books. The rain is what I miss most about Seattle.

Last night I went to get my hair done. This has become an every six week ritual because I have bleached short hair – aka, expensive hair. Maxi, my stylist, is a twenty-six year old single mom, helicopter pilot, and entrepreneur. She lives life passionately and always has a good story to tell. Last night was no different.

For the past few months I’ve been hearing about her tryst with a very hot LA photographer. This guy turns her crank like no other. He has complete control over her. Its torture –I’ve been there. After putting bleach on my hair she showed me pictures of her hot guy. I took one look at him and said, “He’s an asshole.”

“How do you know?” She screamed.

“You can see it in his eyes.”

“I know but I can’t get enough of him.”

“Been there done that.”

I Googled my gorgeous-unattainable-divine-actor-ex-asshole. Several super hot pictures popped up along with a few fan sites.

“Whhhhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyy?” She whined. “Why assholes?”

“This is not an easy question to answer,” I said as I walked back to my perch looking like the Heat Miser from The Year without a Santa Claus.

I had dated a lot of assholes but why? Perhaps I was enraptured by their brilliance and beauty, two things I didn’t believe I had. I also wasn’t ready for the real deal so dating the unattainable was fun and kept me from having to deal with anything beyond the chase. Looking back, the affairs were ensconced with pain. I wasn’t happy. I was lying to myself.

My phone rang. It was MM (boyfriend at the time).

“Did you get my text,” he asked.

He’d sent me a text earlier that said, “I’m so glad to have found you. You were just what I was in need of. I’ll talk to you soon.” I had read it but wasn’t sure how to respond so I didn’t.

“I’m falling in love with you so I’m a little sensitive, like a school girl,” he said.

Maxi pointed to the sink.

“Oh, I’m in the middle of getting my hair done. Can I call you back?” I hung up the phone and enthusiastically told Maxi what he had said.

“I’d run to the hills if my guy said that to me,” she said.

She wasn’t ready and yet she still was tortured by her guy. Dating assholes is a phenomenon that’s impossible to understand.

I told Maxi the only words of wisdom I have are these, don’t settle and believe you deserve to be loved. Until then have fun and don’t worry about it. It’s all resolving itself. The man of your dreams is making his way towards you and you’ll hear him coming. When the time is right, he’ll knock on your door.

I've wanted to write a book called 'How To Marry A Nice Guy When All You Really Want Is An Asshole' since I was 26. Perhaps someday I will.