Because You Can't Fuck Paper...

I'd like to go on record and admit that I have daddy issues. Okay, let me clarify. I have issues with my daddy. Thought, I don't call him daddy, that sounds way too juvenile for me. He's Dad...or to be equal with my mom, I should give him a 'Not' name. So he shall henceforth be refered to a NotARepresentativeoftheManIWanttoMarry. Maybe its this book. Maybe its the two glasses of champagne I've had. Hell, maybe its what he did this week. Okay, its all of the above. Regardless; all I know is that right now I think my issues with my father have a lot to do with my opinion of men in general.

Case in point, my father and I were supposed to trip the light fantastic next weekend up to New Yawk...Longiland (that's how he pronounces it), to be even more specific, for a family reunion, with his side of the family. I should I mention that I've never met anyone from this side other than his sister and the random cousin. The original plan was for him to drive up to meet me in NoVa and I was going to do the driving up north, because I didn't relish having my nails gouged into my skin if he did. I won't mention that in the almost three years since I've left Richmond, he has yet to come visit me. Call and berate me and drop the subtle as a sledgehammer hint that I should move back, yes, drive up to see how I'm living, no.

But I digress.

We were supposed to be heading for New York next week. I had changed the plans I had this week so that I could take the next week off for this family reunion. Imagine my surprise when my mother calls me to warn me that this trip was probably cancelled. So I gave it a day and called my dad to give him the opportunity to tell me. What do I get instead, but him firming up his plans for this trip, which included him telling me what directions to look for online and when to expect him at my place. He padded the conversation with slight money woes and needing to get a part for his truck and when I asked him if he would be able to get this part in time he assured me he would, he then changed the topic to a book he wanted and soon ended the conversation.

*raised eyebrow*

The next day when I spoke to my mother about it she tried to smooth the way for him. She assured me that he was embarassed that he wouldn't be able to go now, despite having talked about it for so long (which I understood), and she said she would urge him to tell me under the guise of me maybe wanting to make other plans (which I had already started doing).

For two days he didn't call or send a smoke signal. I stopped planning for this trip and began firming up my other plans. The next time my mother called I asked her if NotARepresentativeoftheManIWanttoMarry had mentioned to her that he was planning to tell me yet. What she said next solidified a few ideas I've had about men and most of my life in general. He wasn't going to let me know that we wouldn't be going until mid week of next week, so thats about two days before the trip was to actually take place. Anger did not begin to describe my feelings, seething, boiling over rage at the inconsideration is a better description.

But still I let it ride. My mother assured me she would get it resolved and get my father to tell all in the next day or two. Which is why on Thursday, when I got tired of waiting for a call that I knew wasn't going to come, and called NotARepresentativeoftheManIWanttoMarry, myself, I wasn't at all shocked by his small and slipped into part of the conversation we were having murmur that he wasn't going to be able to do the trip.

So what does all of this have to do with the title above...well, I've been thinking about the list I have of prerequisites of dating material and I've always thought it was a bit long and people have commented on how demanding it is. And this incident give me more reason to understand why. I have expectations of men that I need met and each time NotARepresentativeoftheManIWanttoMarry, fails in some small way it goes against what I expect from a man who is in my life, and usually ends up as a 'bad bad thing' on my list of things about my perfect mate. I'm independent to the point where I couldn't even think up a gift for the ex to get me because anything I want I can get for myself. I don't worry about men impressing me because I'm so used to them falling short and not being anywhere near what I want so I stop believing that they are. Hence, they could look great on paper, but as Stephanie Klein admits, 'you can't fuck paper.' And sadly, I'm left with more questions than answers as to how I should move beyond this.

I've considered trimming the list, but eveytime I think of something I could maybe do without I come up with a reason that I need to keep it. Sadly enough, I'm stuck with a bunch of ideas, a great man on paper, a NotARepresentativeoftheManIWanttoMarry, and all I have left to show for it is a handful of papercuts.