Opening to the Romance Chapter

Alright, let’s discuss all the dick I’m getting. Am I right? High five! And by all the dick I mean zero dick…I get no dick. I mean you can’t really expect me to be just turning them down left right and center, I was that one chubby kid who watched star wars and would not shut up about it for four years. Seriously this one time a doctor asked me if I could be pregnant and I said I was a star trek fan and he just nodded and carried on. I felt a real connection to Spock as he tried to navigate the complex workings of societal norms while having pretty terrible eyebrows. I have fond memories of the days before I discovered tweezers.

So besides the obvious, I’ve never dated anyone, possibly because of my crippling self-esteem issues and more probably because of my commitment issues. An acne ridden teenager with commitment issues and a never ending love for knitting? Not really prom queen material. Although it would make excellent drag queen material, go try that out and send me pictures. My only experience with romance has been from indie rom coms with Zooey Deschanel that I watch to seem alternative and deep.

attempting manic pixie dream girl, achieving the opposite

attempting manic pixie dream girl, achieving the opposite

I just don’t seem to fit into the role of indie darling manic pixie dream girl. I don’t have ten feet of hair and four feet of bangs, a cute laugh, I’m not artistically inclined, and I wear pants every so often instead of flare skirts and 60s housewife dresses. If I try to giggle and flip my hair I end up choking a bit and whipping someone in the face. (Please men, keep your pants on it gets even better). Once in an attempt to appear like the sweet oddball who knocks out men with her wingtip eyeliner I learned ukulele. Which would have been mildly acceptable if I had given it up and didn’t rock at it.

An open letter to Zooey Deschanel,

Dearest Zooey, I’m glad you could make time in your busy schedule of baking and having sex with Joseph Gordon Levitt to read this. I’m asking you to stop being the quintessential Hollywood “weird girl”. Every single movie you’re in the guy has to learn to love you for your quirky flaws. The problem is: you don’t have flaws. The guy is really just getting over the fact that looking directly at your blue eyes is kind of like looking into the sun. You could go blind from that, maybe you should wear sunglasses to protect the general population. The only thing weird about you is your innate love for humanity. No one can be that perky all the time, heck, even when you pout it’s like watching a small puppy trip over its legs. I bet you even like poop rainbows and fart dreams. And if you don’t you can bet there are like four scientists madly in love with you who are throwing away their careers to make it happen. The standard you set is too unrealistic for actual oddballs to live up to. I’m begging you to return to your home planet and wipe the population of the memory of you.

Thanks, Morgan

Ps. if you’re ever around lets go shopping or get fro-yo or something

PPs. I’m also quite open to a ukulele duet

Truth be told, I have no idea how males work. If I were to have a boyfriend would I have to feed it or walk it? I’ve never even had a real pet (unless you count guinea pigs because they’re hardcore as fuck).  Any knowledge of bedroom relations comes from fan fiction written by sexually frustrated twelve year olds.


Dean: I’m a demon hunter and you’re an angel of the lord, this could never work.

Castiel: but I love you for your flaws can’t you tell? You’re not broken Dean.

Dean: godammit Cas, I need you.

Castiel: Right now?

Dean: *Groans and grabs Castiel’s hips* we gon frick in da booty.

Castiel: is that how this works or…?

Dean: I don’t know there’s been some dialogue it seemed time for butt stuff.

Castiel: ok butt stuff.

*they do the do*

Quality smut right there.

So with brazen naivety and a vocabulary that included like 14 words for penis (magical trouser laser anyone), it’s no doubt my foray into dating land ended up with pain and a little disappointment.

Let me start by describing my type. I seem to gravitate towards anything with cheekbones, and that heroine starved male model androgynous look. I actually really like pastiness and lank, so basically like the nerds you beat up in high school. And most of the time I actually value intelligence over appearance (wow I know, I deserve some kind of award or something).

You would think this would make my dating pool quite wide and inviting, yet in my high school years these guys were in vogue. I blame Glee. Think Reid from criminal minds or a super hero with the glasses on. As a bigger girl you can imagine how odd I felt liking these scrawny kids. No way would they be able to pick me up and carry me to our marriage bed. I’m pretty sure they seemed slightly less threatening than the all American linebacker type, like I could definitely beat them up if they tried to hurt me. That was a sexy quality.


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