My Dear _______ Letters...

I like men the way I like a good trail mix, totally unpredictable. Now, I am not really a huge fan of trail mix, so perhaps that is not the best metaphor to use here. But how else would you describe the kind of men I have a history of being attracted to? There is no common theme. They are tall, short, skinny, Not-skinny, hairy, hairless, metro’s, macho’s, brunettes, blondes, redheads, and bald guys. They are White, Black, and Hispanic. (Yes, strangely, I have never had it for an Asian, other than the hot Army captain from Disney’s Mulan.) I am the only common denominator. If you lined them all up side-by-side, there would be no universal physical trait to identify them as “my type,” except a great smile, which I admit to being a sucker for.

Such an epic line up would be a great opportunity for me to clear up some things with a handful of these poor saps. Reflecting, there are a few hearts that I perhaps stomped on and maybe a few physical encounters that became a bit sticky, and not in a good way. The power to put together my ex-conquest line-up is out of reach for now, but the power of the pen… or the Macbook I guess, is not.