Friday, January 25, 2008

I'm Lousy Boyfriend Material

(Well, at present, and probably for at least the first half of 2008.)
(Consider this a PSA targeted to any women with romantic leanings my way, or Atlanta-area single women--seriously, married cougar women: find someone else--who happen to Google my name. This isn't a repeat of the "whoa is me" emo-esque blogposts from early last year.)

Ladies, despite what you might say about my personality, intelligence level, musical ability, buttocks, etc. (and I do hope they're mostly nice) I would make for a lousy boyfriend.

I don't like preemptive strikes in foreign affairs (real life foreign affairs, and Foreign Affairs, the magazine) but for right now, I'm ready to make a preemptive "it's not you, it's me" speech here.

Picky as I am, it's not that there's a lack of datable single women, it's just that in my experience (not all of firsthand--as let's face it, since I have yet to celebrate a one-year relationship anniversary with anyone, my long-term relationship experience is thinner than an emo kid impersonating Jesse Camp) meaningful, worthwhile relationships take both time and work. And time's somewhat at a premium for me.

I live too far from work. I admit this. But nothing I've read about the economy is even close to good, and the worst of the recession is in the housing market. Where I work is closely related to that market. No one's been shown the door yet, and I'm not panicking (I don't think), but I don't want to suddenly take on the far larger cost of an intown Atlanta apartment until I've at least saved up enough extra cash that if something nasty does happen, I'm covered for a few months.

Until then, I'm stuck with a traffic-clogged commute (it's not so much the distance travelled, as where I'm traveling--GA 400--that makes it suck more than a marathon of Deep Throat) that averages anywhere from 90 minutes to three hours per day sitting in traffic. Add that to 9 hours or so in the office, and up to 12 hours a day, 5 days a week is gone already.

Then throw in another 5-7 hours so I can go to the gym. Yeah, some of that is simple vanity. I went most of my post-puberty life either wildly skinny or more or less in shape, and waking up and seeing that suddenly my metabolism alone no longer could fight a life of 9 hours at a desk daily and repeated trips to Arby's for double helpings of curly fries and mozzarella sticks. But heart disease runs in the family too, and as a nice side effect of being picked on as "the skinny kid" for all of middle and high school I spent my college years at Ramsey working out, but never really bothering with any kind of cardio exercise. So the making up for lost time there isn't so much about a "it'd be nice to have a six-pack when it's warm enough to go drink by the pool" and more "I'd like to live past my 50s, and no longer get winded after climbing two flights of stairs."

At least once a week (ideally) there's band practice. I'd elaborate more on this, but we need at least a band name first before I can talk about how awesome we are...er, will be. But I think socks will be rocked off.

And then there's the book. It's not going to write itself (trust me, I've hoped it would...I'm pretty sure the computer has laughed at me for trying it.)

Now this doesn't mean I'm going celibate or want to eschew dating altogether. But between all that (and trying to get a part-time freelance writing career going--ideally for extra cash so that move can come quicker) I can't in good conscience promise to be anything more than that fun guy you can hang out with or go on a few dates with. And isn't it better to be honest about all this now, rather than blindside you with it several dates in? I'd bet Katherine Heigl's character would've loved a chance to Google Seth Rogen's character in Knocked Up before they got drunk and made babies.

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