Awkwardly Seeking Complementary Weirdness Suggestion Box
|Gotta love a girl who goes to an |
Edwardian ball in Steampunk!!!
A few months ago I decided that if I really wanted to find Mister Right, I needed to get serious about it and actually look. I decided this primarily because I have been waiting for years and still have not seen a gigantic, orange, pumpkin carriage with a passionate, adorably, awkward, geeky, hottie inside. (While my definition of Mister Right probably differs from your definition, I am sure you get the idea.)
So, how do I solve my problem? In a way, I have been preparing all of my life to address this question with intensely-focused, neurotic methodology. I have, in fact, been trained to problem-solve by some of the best people in the world. I am a research scientist with three degrees after all. So, I know that all I need to do is follow a simple formula. First, identify the problem. Second, create a clear and doable step-by-step solution, and third, implement the solution.
I thought this would be easy. I thought, quite frankly, that this was a foolproof plan, and I was full of energy, confidence, and excitement about the upcoming change in my life. I have always found change to be scary but exhilarating. So, here was my list: (You and I both, dear reader, will just pretend it is endearing and cute that I actually made a list.)
1. Identify the problem: The crux of my problem pivoted on the fact that I worked all the time and for various experimental reasons, my work took place in the laboratory alone. I never had time to go out and meet people.
2. Create a clear and doable step-by-step solution: The solution is obvious, right? Decide what other less life-consuming jobs I would be happy doing; make a list of job announcements; update my resume and start applying. In other words, get a new job.
3. Implement solution: So, I changed my career trajectory and relocated to start a job that did not require me to work 90 hours a week.
Now, I know what you are thinking because I was thinking it too. You are thinking: This is a good start. I was definitely on the track. First, I identified the problem. Second, I devised a solution. Third, I implemented the solution. It was foolproof. Foolproof that was unless my new career was, unbeknownst to me, located in the state in the Union with the highest percentage of married couples. Welcome to Utah Folks! Feel free to growl at the sky. I did once I figured out my mistake.
Let me set the scene for you. As you probably know, Mormons are the largest subculture in Utah. With population percentages of 80-100% Mormon, Utah might be the fulcrum of Latter Day Saint culture. Utah Mormons are religious people who marry around the ages of 19 to 24 and have lots and lots of kids. In general, moms stay at home and dads go to work 9-5.
Weekends are all about church and family. Utah Mormons really do think a woman’s job is to bring as many children as possible into this world and be the best parent possible by keeping a happy home. Mormon women generally strive to be endlessly patient, understanding, soft-spoken pillars of both home and community and are uncomfortable around base or vulgar humor.
Now, let me give you a brief description of myself. I am not a Mormon. I am not even religious. I am almost 40 years old and have never been married, and I think it is my duty and privilege to stand on my own while I look for the right guy. I do not have any children, and I am a workaholic. I am loud. I love to laugh. I think crass jokes are hilarious, and I am generally high-spirited. I speak often and with animation and passion because I am opinionated. I thrive on new experiences. Finally as a scientist, I spent about 10 years researching the evolution of insect mating behaviors. In the words of any good Mormon, I am a menace. I am, in my own words, an enjoyable work-in-progress.
When I got to Utah, I joined a dating service. I must be honest and say I have not had any trouble finding dates. But it has been difficult to find gentlemen who have a chance of understanding me. My Utahn dates have generally completely ignored my essence. Instead, they have focused on the presence of my uterus. For example, the fact that I am a workaholic is greeted with denial. On one recent first date, I was asked when I would quit working? Would I become a housewife when I got engaged, married, or pregnant?
My dates have also ignored any interests I have beyond children and seem to see my education as a misguided hobby. On one memorable first date, I was asked why I bothered going to graduate school since I am a woman? (This one really stumped me. I also frequently ask myself why I went to graduate school but my reasons for asking this question are very different.) Clearly, both the political correctness movement and women liberation completely missed Utah.
My dates have also been surprisingly prudish. I have been told on several first dates that premarital sex is out of the question. I am sorry Ladies, but I would never marry a guy or even date a guy long-term without at least a test drive. Furthermore because I researched the evolution of insect sex for over 10 years, I do not have trouble saying big-person words like penis, vagina, and orgasm. I cannot say the same for the near 40 year-old Utahns I have stared at across candlelit tables.
I wish I could finish this with a happily ever after but my story has not gotten to that point yet. For now, we will all have to be content with my adventures to happily ever after and beyond by enjoying the awkward hilarity of my social interactions. I will find my passionate, adorably, awkward, geeky, hottie, and I will laugh with or at all of the new people I meet along the way.
Now dear reader, here is your task. If you have any suggestions on how I might change my methodology, speak up! I am taking all suggestions! I will keep you updated on my progress.