Where is the JUSTICE and also Men are Pretty (A Prototype Discussion).

OOOOh, sparkling, fancy, member's-only corner pool... How thou doth taunt me with your plentiful deck chairs and your colorful umbrellas. And what the hell is with that sand pit? Really?? BASTARDS.

There's a lake in my neighborhood, so I can swim there any time I want, basically, but that doesn't mean that I don't pine and growl at those Wilson's Fitness swimmers every day on my way home. The pool is in my neighborhood, too, so I have no choice but to behold its refreshing, sanitized, turquoise, strings-attached and overpriced goodness. You must be a member of the gym, you see, and additionally, I believe you must purchase membership to the pool, as well. It reminds me of that episode of Sex and the City where the girls use a false ID to get themselves into an exclusive pool club. Course, they get caught and kicked out, so perhaps I should reconsider my plans to scale their electrified fence (just kidding...about the electrified part), and crash the party.

This is kind of, (if you stretch your mind), a metaphor for the next point. Stick with me. It'll make sense eventually.


So, why is it that I never noticed just how many cute men there are in this world? Seriously, like, everywhere. On every corner, in every coffee house and eatery and niche store and gas station and holy man-candy, I can't seem to hit a red light without getting distracted by an attractive male pedestrian. Stupid eco-friendly city. This phenomenon of awareness must have something to do with the fact that I'm actually looking now, where I wasn't before, because I know that the male population hasn't just emerged with the cicadas. (BTW... HATE. Demon bugs.)

And there are so many kinds of them! (Er, men, not bugs... though, there are a lot of those, too, but, whatever.) It's like a man-vasion. You have your emo hipster, annoying but oftentimes pretty boys who brood a bit too much and are, paradoxically, in desperate need of both a cheeseburger and a looser pair of pants. Then the all-American, clean cut, nice jawline sorts who have tossed their business suits for khaki shorts and kids on their shoulders. Those are lovely. Hell, even the jocks have some appeal... some. ;)

I think I'm most attracted to the teachers, professors, musicians, do-gooders... you know what I mean. Picture it: The shirt is half unbuttoned and wrinkled, the hair is disheveled because he's been reading all night/grading thesis papers/obsessively writing a novel/saving the whales/making passionate love to me...er...uhm... what? Though you have to be careful of some social activists, man, as they would never be half as enthusiastic about their spouses as they are about their causes.

My quandary is this: With so much out there, why does the whole coupling thing seem so very, very... elusive? Kind of like that frickin' fitness center. Wait a minute, do I need to buy a membership to the man-pool, or might Mr. Right be interested in a private lake, instead?

Maybe I'll find him wrapped in some kelp.

Man: "Save me! Save me!"
Jen: "Viciously attacks slimy greens."
Man: "My hero!"

*Cue triumphant music.*

Yeah. Kelp. That's the answer.

Peace out,
Jen