Perfection

I'm uncomfortable with the notion of 'the perfect man' if only because it implies that if I wanted this guy, I'd have to be the perfect woman. Let me be the first to assure you that ain't happening. Not in this life time. Perfection is too damned much work! Let's also pause for a moment and reflect upon that fact that perfection is merely an ideal, not an actuality. Perfection = stagnation = death. Not even statues are perfect. Sculptors allow imperfections (usually inspired by their medium) to remain in the finished art so that it 'breathes'. If you dabble in art at all, you know there's a point past which your meddling will drain your piece of life. It's as if, in the pursuit of perfection, the spark of vitality winks out. 

Do you suppose that's what makes vampires popular? They're dead. They can't change. Therefore, they can maintain whatever illusion of perfection an author impues them with.

All that said, I admit that I had a list of qualities I wanted in a guy. It went something like this:

1. Sense of humor
2. Must adore the cats as much as I do
3. Geek, but at least socially conversant on a basic level
4. Mastery of the mundane (meaning he knows how to find a job, keep a job, balance his check book, and survive in the modern world without the use of drugs or weapons.)
5. Sense of adventure and fun
6. Values my happiness as much as his own

Please note that I wasn't asking for anything I couldn't or wouldn't offer in return. That's only fair. I will admit that I selfishly had added a mental number 7 and that was: Someone born within a decade of me. I'd hung out with a guy who was more than a decade my senior. Nice guy. His taste in music made my teeth hurt (we won't get into some of the antiquated gender role notions). So while I got someone only a year older than I, which is what I'd asked for - *his* taste in music sometimes makes my teeth hurt, too. Sorry, hon. 80's hairbands vanished from the face of the earth for a reason. Just sayin'. And yes. *MY* musical preferences make him weep in pain. I guess we're even. But let that be a lesson. When you're asking for something, get to the root of the issue. Age wasn't really the problem. Musical taste was. Yet age is what went on the list. My bad.

How'd I do on the rest of my list? Pretty darned well, if I do say so, myself.

The DH makes me laugh more than anyone I know. He adores our felines (this is him, piloting the boat - that's a cat in the basket - getting her pets from her human dad while he sails). When Autolycus missed the jump from the dock to the boat and ended up in the ocean, you could have walked up, offered the DH $20 for our boat and he would have given it to you, just to keep the cat from ever going for an unwanted swim again. (The cat's fine...aged us ten years.) Geek? Collects comics, plays WoW, Warhammer and Left for Dead. Works for a software company...where we actually met while working for the same group. He does have mastery of the mundane - more than I do. I'm willing to let a few things slide. He isn't. Sometimes that drives me nuts, but I remind myself that I asked for this, and I cope. I think my willingness to let a few things slide makes him crazy, too. I try not to ask. As for the sense of adventure and fun - he's living aboard a sailboat with me and making life choices he admits he'd have laughed off twenty years ago. And that last one. He says it all the time. If I'm not happy, he's not happy. Do we have our conflicts and our hard times? Oh yes.

Remember that thing about perfection? If it's perfect, it's probably dead. Our 'perfect for us' relationship is very much alive and shifting. Some days that easier than others. But I wouldn't trade it.

Perfection

by Allison Pang

Perfection is probably more of a state of mind than anything else, but I also think it's a sort of freedom to be able to choose what level of "perfect" is right for you.

Probably odd coming from me, considering I post images of "perfect" men on my blog every week - but it's more my way of catering to the female gaze then a true attraction to the bodies I'm putting on display. Beauty being more than skin deep and all that.

Years ago, I read an article that concerned a young woman who was seeking an arranged marriage. Within her culture it was an acceptable thing to do. She wanted to get married, but didn't want to deal with all the messiness involved with finding a mate.

So  her family sought out other like-minded families and she went through several sets of suitors. And she turned down quite a few, often based on things that people in love would probably not even remotely consider. (I seem to remember one man had a bit of dirt beneath his fingernails. Dealbreaker.) When the interviewer pointed out that it seemed like a rather petty reason to reject someone, the woman said that when one married for love, things like that could be overlooked. But her in case, the men had to be perfect for her to consider them since she wasn't going to have that initial connection.

Seems like a rather sad way to go about it. I often wondered if she stayed with whichever man she ended up with.

I mean, think about it - anyone who has been in a long term relationship knows after the butterflies have all flown away, you're left with bumpy reality. Things you maybe took pains to hide start to let go as you relax. Little habits that might have seemed endearing once can suddenly become tremendously annoying when you are exposed to them on a daily basis - I can't imagine that physical perfection would be much of a reason to stick around if the person beneath is a chronic mouth breather or is a total slob, or whatever it is that drives you batty.

So really, perfection is all relative. Sometimes what's perfect for you now may not be perfect for you later, but the point is that *you* get to define what that is. In the end, that's all that really matters.