I didn't know my grandma for very long. I was 10 months old when she died. But she sounds like a woman after my own heart. She didn't really have a type when it came to men. She loved the dark-haired Indian with the silky smooth voice and the blue-eyed dreamy actor and she married my grandpa who was tall and skinny and had a sense of humor that was out of this world.
Grandma and I would have been great friends, I think. And we certainly would've enjoyed talking about men. Not only because I don't really have a type either when it comes to men (and not just because I also think Engelbert and Paul were very hot); but also because I love a man for who he is and the characteristics he offers, not simply because he fits a mold.
Maybe it's because I don't really fit a mold myself that I don't hold others to a certain set of requirements. I'm not sure. But I do know that finding the right guy when you really don't have a list isn't always easy. And everyone and their brother wants to fix you up with everyone from Engelbert to Paul in the hopes that you will stumble upon someone suitable in the process.
And it's as taxing as it is exciting.And I understand the frustration of the people around me who just want me to quit complaining and find someone to spend the rest of my life with.
I don't know who the right guy is. I don't know if he's dark and mysterious like Engelbert Humperdinck or dreamy like Paul Newman or spontaneously funny like my Grandpa. The possibilities seem endless. And once you settle on one, the possibilities just end.
I wonder what Grandma's advice would be.