I'll Know It When I See It

Thanks to Justice Stewart for that infamous line. It's useful in so many situations.

Mr. Match called and left a message for me last night, saying he was sorry he hadn't gotten back to me after our aborted dinner last week. You know, the one where he waited until 6:00 p.m. to call and tell me he was still in Dallas. He told me not to call him back last night as he was with his ex-fiancée. I swear I am tempted to ask him why they ever broke up. They spend way too much time together for me to ever want to be in a relationship with him.

That made me start thinking about what I want in a man. Or better yet, what I don't want.

I think there is a list of "absolutely not", a list of "would prefer not" and a list of "whatever." (You'd have to hear Jaci say "whatever" to know how it sounds in my ear.)

At the very top of the "absolutely not" list is smoking, of any sort, at any time. Especially cigars. I respect a man's right to like cigars, but he can like them with someone else. The aroma of a cigar is one of the worst migraine triggers on my list, and the migraine that ensues when I'm exposed to that aroma is the worst kind of migraine that I've ever had. It wakes me at 2:00 a.m. and has me kneeling at the wall, banging my head against the wall as hard as I can to try to ease the pain. Nausea, vomiting, sledge hammer pain on one side of my head. Absolutely not.

Another absolutely not is too great a reliance on the juice of the grape. Been there, done that, as we used to say. I've been through that with John. I was able to make that work. But someone who grabs the glass of champagne when he walks through the ballroom door, downs it and immediately grabs another, or someone who regularly gets drunk — well, he's just going to have to do all that drinking by himself and go home by himself, 'cause he ain't gonna do it around me.

Am I harsh? Maybe. Am I too harsh? Nope. I'm 57 years old and I've been married four times. I've started over six or more times in my life, and there's a limit to how many more times I will be able to start over before it will literally kill me. I'm thinking this next relocation will be the last.

To turn a negative into a positive, what do I want? Someone who wants to be with me, but wants his own space and interests. Someone who is confident in himself without needing to hang onto my coattails. Someone who takes pride in his appearance, who is smart, who is interesting, who doesn't spend our conversations talking only about his work or telling boring pointless stories. Someone who can help me not take myself so seriously. Someone who appreciates the style and grace and understated elegance that I bring to the relationship.

Is that too much to ask? If so, then I'll just be alone the rest of my life. There are certain things on which I will not compromise.

I don't know how to define it, but I'll know it when I see it.