Studies have shown (yes, those ubiquitous studies) that when people choose lovers who resemble themselves, those relationships are often stronger and last longer.
Therein lies my problem. I have yet to choose someone just like me, instead choosing lovers for their Beauty.
Here is just one on my list of important qualities – beautiful hands.
I am born under the sign of Libra and Libra is ruled by Venus. Venus is the planet of love, relationships, and beauty. So it stands to reason that when I meet a woman who has beautiful strong hands I often fall just a little bit in love.
I imagine those hands constructing an outdoor hot tub, because I have always wanted an outdoor hot tub custom built by my very own handy dyke. While mine is a worthy fantasy, after that tub is built and we are chillin’ in our tubbie, my fantasy crashes and burns.
I am a series of anomalies wrapped in a tiny but chubby body. I read The Globe and Mail every day so I am well aware of current events but choose not to discuss politics or business nor the state of the world, choosing instead to talk almost obsessively, according to the dykes I have dated, about Relationship. This does not go over well with said dykes who would rather take a blow to the head than talk about Us.
I am a Jew who goes to my local LGBT church. I am J.A.P who doesn’t wear makeup or blow dry her hair, but loves to frequent five star hotels. I eschew jewelry but am obsessed with my oversized Rolex. I am a voracious reader who prefers not to talk about the books I have read, instead choosing to keep them close to my heart.
I am an expansive relational woman who finds other expansive relational women too much – hence my trajectory toward the cold contained W.A.S.P dyke who then rejects my wild heathen ways.
Oh well, it is what it is, and I am what I am. As Doris Day sings ‘Que Sera Sera’.
The Inside Out Film Festival begins this week, and I am off to stand in line in the rain to see if can purchase a ticket for the film ‘The Ring Thing’. Perhaps if the fates allow, I shall be standing in line when a gallant dyke offers me the shelter of her umbrella.