I am utterly blown away by my own ability to fall in love. I mean I do it to the point of complete insanity and foolish blindness. I’m a 16 year old still hooked on Disney fantasy trapped in a 30 year old body. I see absolutely no flaws in the object of my affection, and the flaws I do see I attribute to their charming imperfections and I fall in love with that too. I have convinced myself that there is only a certain type of person that is drawn to me, a person that shares, shall we say, a colorful past? So I forgive past transgressions as I would want them to do for me. I feel that this type of person will understand me more, appreciate my ability to overcome and endure and better myself. What I end up with is total disappointment and heartbreak because most usually they themselves have not overcome their past to the point that I was originally led to believe that they had, or they’re just plain ole shitty people and I was too stupid to see it because the sex was good and they were smooth talkers.

Which brings me to my next point: I think I may be a sex addict. I don’t mind being addicted to sex, hell I’m genetically programmed to be addicted to sex. That’s the point, isn’t it? Procreation and all that jazz? Nothing wrong with liking something, being good at it, and knowing you like it and that you’re good at it. Ever watch the Golden Girls? Well of course you have. At least you have if you’re from the south. And in the words of Blanche Devereaux, “It’s not the water honey, it’s the heat.” Unfortunately it leads to me basing a relationship on three major points: 1. is the sex good? 2. Do they fit in with my family? 3. (and this is the big one) Would they make a good survival partner during an apocalyptic event?

We could go on for days about why Number 1 is a bad idea. Ok, I got that so save your advice, and do your name-calling behind my back like a good girl because if no one told you yet, I’m a crazy bitch. Number 2 I find important. I’m closer to my family than most adults my age, seriously. I guess it’s normal if you’re from this part of the country but I’ve found that for most Americans it’s a rare thing and I love it. Which brings me to Number 3.

I am constantly thinking “worse-case scenario”. Whether I am eating at a restaurant thinking of where I should sit in case of explosion, shooter, or patient zero. Or if I’m traveling away from my daughter thinking about nuclear fall-out and how I would get home to her it’s ALWAYS there in the back of my mind. Naturally, I look for the tough guys. Can they hunt, fish, throw a punch and roll their own cigarettes? I like this type. Naturally, some of them have been to prison. Naturally, some of them are damn near illiterate. Naturally some of them are wonderful and perfect, I just haven’t met those yet. Unfortunately the ones I have met function perfectly in the dystopian world I’ve created in my head, but not so much in the actual world. So here’s to hoping I can find a literate, country-boy tough-guy type that fits in with my family and doesn’t have felony on his record, or a drug addiction, or isn’t a shitty person, and can handle my sex addiction.