Monthly Archives: June 2012

Mr. Good Enough?


Still pondering this book by Lori Gottlieb called Marry Him [The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough]… I cannot help but wonder, have I misjudged any Mr. Good Enoughs in my own pursuit for Mr. Perfect?

Mr. Dominant was a stable, Christian man. Thoughtful. Kind. Chivalrous. Full of integrity, I have no doubt. But I call him Mr. Dominant for a reason – he’s your ultimate man’s man. Hard head. Strong backbone. He liked me because so far we agreed on many things. But I knew that the moment I disagreed with him, we would fight. We are both fighters – we would have to fight. And the fights would probably get vicious. He always struck me as the kind of guy who would throw out a statement like, “Woman, submit!” in a fierce argument. I turned him down.

Mr. Marijuana Enthusiast. He’s not Christian. Super laid-back. Friendly. Seems to be a good listener. Deep thinker. He’s the kind of guy who can be friends with anyone. And he also thinks pot should be legalized. I’ve only ever expressed one opinion against marijuana to him. I told him I didn’t think he should smoke before he rode his motorcycle because it would slow down his reflexes which is terribly dangerous on a bike. Ever since then he has taken every opportunity to tell me why marijuana is good and helpful to people or society as a whole. He is obviously an addict, as opposed to a social smoker. And I know where he works – I don’t know how he affords his habit. I avoid the relationship avenue in conversation. 

Mr. Too Shy to Say Hi. Christian. Seemed sweet. My pastor spoke extremely highly of him. Servant-hearted. That’s about all I know. Because he almost never talked. One day after I had known him and had been trying to pull him out of his shell for weeks, he walked up beside me and stopped. He just stood there next to me. I prayed to God and said, “If he says even one word I will talk to him. But he has to say something. Anything. Even just ‘hi’. I will not speak to him until he initiates.” After a good two minutes of silence, he walked away. I sighed in frustration, and pretty much completely ignored him from then on.

Mr. Excitable. Newly saved. Friends with my brother. Very expressive. Very talkative. Gushed over me. He was completely obsessed with alcohol and his new ability to buy it [I wasn’t 21 yet]. Asked me out seconds after he told me that he didn’t date girls my age. I laughed in his face. He never wanted to see me again.

Mr. Old Man. Not Christian. Great job – not only did he love his work, but he was successful. Polite. Friendly. Obviously interested in me – without seeming pervy – which was very flattering. Terrible with time management. Left me hanging several times. But always tried to make it up. Very generous. Workaholic. Refused to date him due to the difference in faith. If he became Christian… I would probably still refuse him because he is 16 years older than me. We’re still friendly acquaintances.

Mr. Hippie. Christian. Artistic. We seem to have similar life desires and interests. I’m amazed at how much we agree on nearly everything we discuss. And the discussions are fabulous. But the job thing is constantly fluctuating. Reliability in general kind of sucks. Haven’t made any real decisions about him yet.

Mr. Catholic. Christian – from the world’s perspective. But I want a man that I can view as my spiritual leader. And there is a lot about Catholicism that I disagree with wholeheartedly. Other than that, I think he’s great. Funny. Upbeat. Stable job. Shared hobby. Respectful. Nice to be around. I smile at the end of nearly every phone call. Even if he’s calling with a problem. Haven’t made any firm decisions about this one either.

Mr. Prince Charming. Christian. Tall, dark, and handsome. Values women. Treats his mother like an angel. Good job. Makes me laugh. Laid-back. He’s really a winner all-around. I would TOTALLY date him. But he’s never asked me out… Am I aiming too high?

Well -these are a few… What do you think, guys? Was I too harsh? Am I as bad as the girls in Gottlieb’s book that I scoffed at? I want to know: In a man’s opinion, have I passed up (or am I passing up)  a Mr. Good Enough in a way that I shouldn’t have?

Are my current reservations legitimate? Or am I being too picky – even unreasonable? 

Girls, I want to know what you think as well. Have you passed up a Mr. Good Enough, only to cry about it later? What would you consider a dealbreaker?


Give a Guy a Chance


$6. I couldn’t resist. The book is called Marry Him [The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough]. I had to hear the argument.

As a single, I cannot count the number of times I’ve been told, “Never settle! Don’t get married until you find your Mr. Right. Keep waiting. You will find your man when the timing is right.” ….

What did this author (who is female – to my shock!) have to tell me that could contradict those words I’ve heard from others over the years? When I saw the title, I first expected the author to be male. I suspected a man frustrated by being passed up by beautiful women, who finally had too much – and lashed out in a book begging women to accept the “good enough” guys out there like him. When I saw that the book was authored by a woman named Lori Gottlieb instead, I paused – and wondered what points she would bring to the table. And whether or not other women would respect her opinion or rage against her theory.

Just to state my own opinion upfront: I loved the book.

To clear things up a bit, she was not talking about settling for a guy who works at McDonald’s as opposed to the Pentagon. She did not refer to the man who is in a rehab program as opposed to the man who never struggled with addiction. She wasn’t talking about “good enough” men as in the those who are barely stable or in opposition to men who are intelligent and successful. See below the kinds of guys Gottlieb referenced – as well as some of the reasons different women rejected them:

  • He’s 5’7″. She always hoped for 6’2″.
  • “He was very loving but he wasn’t romantic enough… I wanted a guy who sent flowers.” (page 20)
  • “He brought me flowers, but cheesy ones that just spoke to bad taste…” (page 20)
  • He’s stable. But she finds him too predictable. Mr. Right is more exciting.
  • He was bald. “I’d always been attracted to guys who had the kind of hair you could run your fingers through.” (page 21)
  • He was too optimistic. “I didn’t want to ‘look on the bright side’ all the time.” (page 21)
  • “He loved me too much… I wanted more of a manly man.” (page 22)
  • He’d never seen Casablanca. She wanted someone more “refined”.

Guys, if you are shaking your head in disgust at the terrible reason these women rejected perfectly reasonable men, rest assured that I am also. This book did a wonderful justice to the average guy who has been overlooked by the self-centered woman time and time again.

Mr. Right doesn’t have to be tall, dark and handsome. Tall, dark and handsome may break your heart. Mr. Right was actually short, stocky, and incredibly sweet – but you wouldn’t have anything to do with him. You didn’t see him because you were looking for perfect. But in your hopeless search for perfection, you passed up the man who was good enough. Good enough isn’t such a bad catch when you realize Perfect doesn’t exist anyway.

As God Intended


I introduced the subject with “Pants”. But have you ever thought about whether or not God intended singleness? I believe that some of God’s original intentions are still applicable today. I believe that modern marriage should take place between one man and one woman, as God originally intended. Other intentions, I obviously don’t believe are applicable today – see my previous post.

However, there are so many things that God never made clear specifications about in his Word. A question I would like to pose:

Did God originally intend for any person to

 be single for an entire lifetime?

 It’s not a question I came up with by myself. I was reading a book about singleness written in the 1970’s and the author voiced this question herself. When God stated that Adam needed a suitable helpmate, did he not imply that all men needed such helpmates?

In a world without sin or death, a widow or a widower would not exist. Divorce would be incomprehensible. Without sin – without lying, cheating, selfish ambition, backstabbing, harsh words, and vicious attacks – why would a couple want to divorce?

On the other hand, pure logistics might have led to singleness for some. Would God have created men and women in equal numbers? Or would there have been some happy, healthy singles floating about? Would they have even desired mates?

It’s just an idea to ponder. How could we ever know for sure what God truly intended?



My pastor thinks that God originally intended for a woman to leave her parents’ home only after she weds. I talked him down to the “original intention” thing. He initially told me that a woman shouldn’t leave her parents’ house until she was married – and he implied “ever”. After he realized he’d blurted that philosophy out to a single woman who moved out of her parents’ home some time ago and doesn’t plan to go back, his eyes widened and he backtracked a little bit. Later we discussed the topic more thoroughly [I may have even blogged about it – I cannot remember] and he succumbed to the clause, “I believe that is what God originally intended.”

Don’t get me wrong: I love my pastor and his family. And I respect his thoughts and opinions. But I also disagree with many [minor] things he believes.

This whole discussion got me pondering that phrase quite a bit… “As God originally intended…”

Here’s the thing: The world is not anything like the way God intended it.

He intended for no sin. He intended no pain. No death. No suffering. No pants.

[Katie – if you so much as mutter the words “Hippie Nudist” I swear I will steal all of your drugs and rip every remaining tooth out of your skull! Don’t test me, woman!]

A few years ago, while I was in high school, a man came to my house to deliver a package. I was home alone, skipping school in all likelihood. He climbed up our porch and touched the doorbell. Compelled by curiosity, (I am a cat lady. Aren’t cats noted for their curiosity?), I peered through the blinds at the man on the porch. Crap… he saw me. I was stuck. He knew someone was inside. I had to answer the door. Ignoring the doorbell after peering out the window is the ultimate slap-in-the-face to a delivery man. I now had about thirty seconds to be polite and answer the door. Otherwise, he would walk away from my porch in disgust. And shatter the next fragile package he had to deliver to my house.

What’s the big deal? I know you don’t understand. You wonder why I couldn’t just open the door. I’ll tell you: I wasn’t wearing pants.

In my 30 second time crush, I made a rash decision. The second door had a screen on top, but the opaque plastic portion rose to about my belly button. As long as the man stared at my face, I would be safe. He’d never know. I lunged for the door and greeted him awkwardly.

A strange expression crossed his face and he glanced downward. He knew. I scooted closer to the door so he would not be able to see. His eyes still wandered toward my lower half. He was obviously shocked by what he could hardly see.

Then came the moment, I hadn’t thought ahead to in my 30 second time period of decision-making. He was a delivery man. I had to accept a package from him. The screen door would have to be opened. CRAP! CRAP, CRAP, CRAP!!! 

I will spare the details of those next few minutes. I was embarrassed then. I refuse to humiliate myself further.

After he left, I thought to myself, That would have been SO much less awkward if I were wearing a bathing suit. Wait a minute – why would a bathing suit make that situation less awkward?? How is a bathing suit any more modest than what I was already wearing? 

It would have looked exactly the same. And yet – waltzing out in front of a stranger wearing a bathing suit is far more socially acceptable than waltzing out in front of that same stranger wearing a tee shirt and underwear. Life is not fair.

It was my house. I had every right to walk around without pants.

How does this relate back to my first paragraph? Recently, I had another “pants” episode, similar to the one I just described. I may share in a “Pants – Part 2” blog at a later date. The scenario ended in my scoffing at wearing pants in the privacy of my own home and a joking comment, “Pants are of the devil.”

Then I remembered my conversation about singleness with my pastor. And I realized that pants really are of the devil!! Adam and Eve didn’t grab those fig leaves until after they sinned! In a perfect world, a world as God intended it, I wouldn’t have to wear pants.

*Sigh*. Too bad we don’t live life in a world as God originally intended. Now we have to deal with sin. And pants. Among other things.

Desperate Catladies


Walking into restaurants and hugging random strangers. Strutting pantless past sheer-curtained windows. Petting alley cats from down the street. This is my life. I’m no desperate housewife. I am a desperate catlady.

Singleness can be a blast. But sometimes singleness is terribly boring as well. After a drastic cut, my hairstylist… uh – well, styled my hair… and then she told me I should go out and flaunt the new ‘do. I laughed and responded, “Oh yeah… Hot date lined up on a Monday night? Definitely … Not.”

Then I assured her that my precious feline would appreciate my extravagant beauty. The sad part is, I did kinda wanna show off when I got out of there. To someone. It’s times like those that I miss the city. If there were a Starbuck’s nearby, I could have chilled in there and flirted shamelessly for a good couple hours. $5 for a coffee may sound expensive. But $5 to flirt with a man who isn’t drunk for over an hour on a Monday or Tuesday night is actually an incredible deal! And if the flirting is successful, you get a free coffee the next time.

And I’m not even sure I would call it flirting… After a hair appointment, it is more like exuding beauty and enjoying the recognition of said beauty.

Alas – I live in Hickville, USA. I could have gone to Dunkin Donuts – but Dunkin quality men don’t compare to Starbuck’s quality men. I could have gone to the grocery store and thrown myself at that one gorgeous manager. Except I still haven’t figured out a decent way to go about hitting on him. Every idea I come up with that would capture a busy store manager’s attention – would also get me thrown out of the store. Any other options? I’ll skip the bar – drunken slobber ruins the best of haircuts. And everything else is closed. Stores close by 7pm on Monday nights in towns this small.

Oh well. I arrived at my apartment and greeted my cat. That night was okay, but one of these days I’m bound to hit a peak of desperation. When that happens – let’s skip the cheesy television series and make an award-winning movie.