Typography 101: Learning Your Lesson

Posted on 10. Aug, 2010 by Brittney Winters in Lifestyle

Romantically speaking, everyone has a type.

If you say you don’t have a type, you’re lying. To me. To your family. To your friends. To yourself. And you’re wasting all of our time, so if you’re sitting there with your head cocked like, “This belligerent bitch don’t know what she’s talking about…I don’t have a type”…Motherfucker, you. have. a. type. Get out of my face. And get the fuck off my blog. Bye bye, now…I’ll wait…

…    …    …

Now that the tricks, stunts, hoes and skeezers (male and female…I’m equal opportunity in this piece) have left with their thirsty asses, we can get back to business.

Everyone has a type.

It took me up until recently to figure out what my type was. Unfortunately for me, my type happens to encompass things that cause me no end of trouble, which probably says something about my self-esteem and my self-worth. Let’s go through the defining characteristics of “my type”, shall we?

• Light skinned. You can thank my mother for this one. After years of being told that if I get any darker, I won’t be cute anymore, I fell into the trap associating “light” with “cute”…that and growing up around almost only white people.
• Good-looking. Um, duh. No one actively goes for people they don’t find attractive.
• In shape. I have debased myself many a time for a great set of abdominal muscles.
• Educated. I don’t think that this is bad. In fact, it’s extremely good, considering how elitist I get about college degrees and whatnot.
• Aspiring rapper, producer, emcee, DJ, or other music related career path. I really do not comprehend how this happens to me each and every time. They seem cool and I fall for them and then after a little while, the rhyme books come out. The turntables appear. The fitteds start accumulating on the over-the-door hanger and in the winter, the Timbs appear (WHY ARE TIMBERLANDS STILL IN STYLE FOR MEN!??).

This isn’t to say that this is the checklist I use for men I pursue. Oh no, no, no, I only wish that I had some sort of standards when it came to that. With my terribly low self-esteem issues and my ridiculously good-looking girlfriends, I tend to just take whatever I can get. But the ones that I fall for, and fall hard?

All of them fit this list.

There was the ex-boyfriend. He was…wow. When I don’t think about the reasons why we broke up and why we’re not speaking anymore (or ever again, for that matter), I still kind of have some residual soft spots for him. Not that I’d ever tell him to his face.

There was the rebound guy I pursued after the ex that I…uh…we’re not going to get into details on that one. It’s kind of embarrassing. Let’s just say that I was thinking with my G-spot during those months.

Then there was the friend I had a huge crush on. Uh, yeah, if you’re reading this, Friend I Had a Crush On, um, yeah. I liked you a lot more than I let on but since the timing was off, I figured that it wasn’t worth saying much about it. Jumping you, however, I could (and did) do. So, I guess we both win?

And now? There’s this guy at my school that I have the most ridiculous crush on. Like, bigger than any crush I think I’ve ever had on someone that wasn’t a celebrity type of crush. Incoherent babbling type of crush. Fall over my own feet type of crush. Haven’t said more than 15 full sentences to him although I sat next to him for an entire semester and am forced in relatively close contact during the summer for fundraising purposes type of crush. I thought I was doing well because although he fits almost all of the aforementioned characteristics, he seemed too clean cut to fit that last, loathesome trait.

…And this is why from now on, I’m never friending another hot guy on Facebook. He posted a spoken word note…

Which threw red flags alllllllll over this play. Won’t do it. Will not pursue (even if “pursue” in this case is synonymous with “drool like a 13 year old girl at a Twilight convention”) a dude who is shaping up to be a potential carbon copy of the dude who ripped my heart out and fed it to the wolves.

Trust issues? Yeah, I’ve got a few. Projecting? More than likely. Self-sabotage because I was happy with my ex for the majority of the time and it was only at the end that things got really bad and now I’m scared of being that happy (and later, that hurt) again? Abso-fucking-lutely. Am I being completely delusional and irrational? You betcha!

Yup. I’m running for the hills, people. No more light-skinned, good-looking, in-shape, educated aspiring rappers/emcees/DJs for me. No way. No how.

Operation: RUN!!!! is now in effect.

Tags: All Men Are Dogs, G-spot, Men are dogs, Relationships, Typography