Truly Disappointing

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Nice Guys get the Shaft, or Why I'd date George O'Malley

First, a response or two:
S wanted to say hi and share some good work news (patent was issued, rock on). We chat maybe twice a year, just catch up on what the other is doing. It's nice. We always were better friends than anything else. He's a good person.

My exes:
Ex #1, who told all of our friends I was a lesbian when we broke up, married and had a child with a lesbian. He's now remarried and the blended family is fleshed out at 4 kids total. Not sure whose is which. Hear from him by e-mail maybe once a year, but that only started a few years back when he tracked me down to say his grandfather had died. His grandfather was an awesome person.

Ex#2, read above. Is single.

Ex#3 is getting married in July, I hear. His mom and mine are good friends. I hear from him professionally on occasion.

Ex#4 is somewhere here in town. I've seen him twice in 6 months, both times because his work brings him in to my office occasionally.

Now, this is the thing. I've been REALLY lucky, or I'm just so picky about getting involved that I've created luck, but I've not really been screwed over. Things have gotten fucked up. No doubt. But I've not been cheated on and I've not been Houdini'd. The guys I've dated? Have been nice guys. My mother met and liked, well, all of them. Not that that's much of a gauge, since my mother likes almost everyone. But overall? I'm not attracted to the bad boys. I like them relatively clean-cut, somewhat intellectual, definitely sarcastic, and nice. They've just all not been the right guys, I guess.

You know, the downside of having hangups is that it takes you years to pick out what your specific problem is. Whether you can trace it to its origins or not, fixing it by change of behavior is difficult. So you end up stuck in the same holding pattern until you can get out a map and trace a new route. But if you aren't paying enough attention to the ground, you may not notice that you're going in circles. It's like hunting the Heffalump.

Back to the story.

George O'Malley. Character on Grey's Anatomy, which is one of my favorite shows on TV right now.

George is kind of a dork. He's socially bumbling. He could use a haircut. But he's the go-to guy. He can grab a beating heart in an elevator. He can self-righteously demand that HE is more important than a dog. He can give pep talks to Dr. Bailey in labor. He's sweet. And loyal. Unthreatening and kind. And would probably be the most devoted significant other on the planet. Granted, he's rough around the edges, but then, the character is, I believe, around my age. In his late 20s. We don't have everything figured out yet, not at this age, and he's at the beginning of his career, so still unstable there. He is still potential.

and seriously? The eyes? HOT. Sorry. They are.

I'd date George O'Malley. The problem is that I'm still potential, too, and every time I get my feet planted on firm ground (or think I have), some sort of earth-moving event takes place and I'm thrown once again for a loop. I am not expecting me to be a finished personality ever -- I am a progressive work in progress, permanently in flux. But I'd like to feel steady. I'd like to know I'm not losing me in whatever earth-shattering moment I share with another person.

I'm a control freak. I know it. What can I say? I've not yet figured out how to change that.


  • oh i forgot, i would never date george. the hair alone drives me bonkers, but its his total lack of balls and guy-ness that pisses me off too. fucking step up yo george. and it looks like he fake tans in that pic. yuk. hes the epitome of the de-balled modern "sensitive" men taken to its evil extreme.

    By Blogger Susan, at 2:24 AM  

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