Reasons I'd Make an Awesome Wife

Getting to know someone on www.i’mtheonlysinglepersoniknow.com can be somewhat monotonous. It’s a series of all too predictable inquiries with all too predictable answers. One such question is “What do you have to offer as a partner?” Now, I get the question and I get how I’m supposed to answer: patience, a good sense of humor, loyalty, yada yada. But let’s be honest, that’s what every attractive, eligible lady like myself would say. Instead I have compiled a list of the real reasons I’d make an awesome wife.
1. I make popcorn on the stove top with oil and salt and all that fattening goodness.
2. I know enough about baseball to carry on a conversation but not so much that I would disagree about whom should or shouldn’t be inducted into the Hall of Fame.
3. I prefer Jon Stewart to Oprah.
4. I play a mean game of Texas Hold ‘Em.
5. I also think wicker furniture is untrustworthy.
6. I crochet lovely blankets.
7. I spontaneously sing songs I just made up about the family pet.
8. I make major holidays and birthdays super special yet not stressful. It’s a magical talent.
9. I always know the answers to French clues in the crossword. Ete? Jeune? Chien?
10. I don’t ask “what are you think about right now?” Okay, sometimes but not all the time.
11. I think spending an entire Saturday in bed watching a marathon of “The Wire” is a totally valid use of time.
12. I’m an awesome back-scratcher.
13. I genuinely think poop jokes are funny.
14. I have green eyes. Rare genes, anyone?
15. I always keep ice cream in the freezer for “just in case” situations.
16. I have phenomenal credit.
17. I’m getting sexier and saner with age.
18. I have amazing friends whose husbands are bound by solemn vow to help with all moves and major home improvements.
19. I’m not likely to die in childbirth due to my great hips. Plus it’s 2010 and we don’t need 9 kids to work the farm.
20. Since I hate beer, I never drink the last one in the fridge.

Puppy Love

I wasn't always a member of www. my-dad-started-spending-my-wedding-fund .com. My last relationship had quite organic beginnings. In fact, the meeting was the stuff of Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan flicks.
It all began with Sadie the Dog. After my tumultuous 3 year spree with Sports Guy ended I decided to get me a new, more emotionally available companion: a dog. I took a trip to the pound "just to look" and 4 days later Sadie was my new best friend. I soon learned that dogs need direction so off to training we went. I don't mean to brag but Sadie took to training like a dog to, well, treats. She was best in her class at "leave it." No big deal.
One particular Sunday, the trainer had a set of newbies come in early to socialize with our more mature pups. In walked Zoe the Boxer and her dad wearing a "Global Warming Is Not Cool" shirt. I felt immediately attracted to T-Shirt Guy for the following reasons A) he has a dog, B) his shirt is witty, and C) he wears glasses and I secretly dig nerds.
The next couple of Sundays I look forward to seeing T-Shirt Guy and am slightly confused by his penchant for funny slogans such as "The Eh Team" with a giant maple leaf and a wordless design that actually has 99 red balloons. I attempt small talk. "Hey, there's a cool bark park downtown. Just FYI." "Hey, I also dislike global warming." But shockingly, T-Shirt Guy doesn't bite.
Finally I decide to take matters into my own hands. It happens to be the day after a birthday spent in Disneyland and I am feeling extra cute. I pre-write my number on a slip of paper before I get to class. I stick the paper in my pocket, ready for the moment. I ask the trainer again if T-Shirt Guy has ever mentioned a girlfriend or boyfriend for that matter. I wear my converse so as not to appear too eager. Trainer agrees that today is the day.
T-Shirt Guy and Zoe the Boxer walk in for class as Sadie the Dog and I are finishing our final session. We exchange niceties "hey, how's it going?" "Great, how are you?" I feel the blood rush to my head. I can't think of anything sophisticated and amazing to say so I pull the pre-written number out of my pocket, force it onto T-Shirt Guy and somewhat yell "If you want to go to the bark park sometime, call me." Now, the normal human being would pause here, look into the other person's eyes, maybe even wait for a response. But oh no, not me. Instead I make a quick 180, drag Sadie the Dog and essentially run out of there.
In spite of my less than smooth moves, T-Shirt Guy called. Sadie the Dog and Zoe the Boxer became best friends. And we all lived happily ever after. That is, for the next 6 months. After all, this is called 52 weeks to find a husband, not 52 weeks to plan a wedding.