Here’s the thing about me – I know what I want. I can go into painstaking detail about how I like my dirty martinis, what specifically intrigues me about my favorite authors and roughly 101 reasons why Tom Hiddleston is ripe (if you don’t know what ripe is, imagine how it feels when you’ve just plucked a delicious, lush fruit from a tree. Enjoy). When it comes to dating, this can be a catch 22. I know what I like and I’m not afraid to vocalize it. Unfortunately, I’m also cognizant of how improbable most of my incredibly specific, hyperbolic and (most likely) demanding requests are. That hasn’t stopped me from going after what I desire. It’s just created a starker contrast between my expectations and the grim reality that is dating in your twenties.
Want I want: Me, a Russian, a bear skin rug and a bottle of vodka.
What I get: Into arguments with Trump supporters.
What I want: Sunsets. The sky. Anything written and directed by Shonda Rhimes.
What I get: Big Momma’s House 2.
What I want: Mikhail Baryshnikov circa 1985.
What I get: Hit on by men who look like corrupted senators.
What I want: The brains of a Bond Villian, the body of Daniel Craig.
What I get: Tribal tattoos. Carnival Cruises. The best of Kid Rock.
What I want: A love triangle featuring me, a sleeve of Oreos and either of the Hemsworth Brothers.
What I get: Rejected from The Bachelor.
What I want: Sex to the tune of any angst ridden opera.
What I get: A never ending loop of Carlos Santana’s “Smooth.”
What I want: To be cloaked in furs like I’m starring in the Whitney Houston biopic.
What I get: A man in a khaki suit with firm opinions on high-waisted shorts.
What I want: A meet-cute with a doctor in Walgreens when I’m coy and composed.
What I get: A meet-cute with a doctor in Walgreens when I’m buying tampons and toilet paper and I run away when he speaks to me.
What I want: Political activism, fire-stoking wit, foreplay in the White House.
What I get: Forced to watch YouTube videos on why Eminem is in the Illuminati.
What I want: 50 Shades of Olive Skin and Five O’clock Shadow.
What I get: The Wolf of Sesame Street.
What I want: To laugh, bite full lips, make someone as happy as they make me.
What I get: Indigestion, middle school acne, material for more lists.