I know what I want and I’m not afraid to wait for it, although he better hurry up and get here soon! I want a real man with a strong face. He can be older than me, hair a little flecked with grey like that pervy guy sitting over there, and he’ll get me, you know? He’ll be able to just look at me and just know, you know? And we’ll move in together some place where I can decorate everything so it is exactly perfect, and I’ll bake things and make food for him, but I don’t want him to see me like actually eating because gross. We’ll eat salads made of flowers and our house will be full of cool furniture and art and we’ll have a framed picture of Grandpa Giltrap’s dog Garryowen who, like, talks! You should hear him. It’s like he thinks he’s a person or something. And my man will be tall, and have broad shoulders, and nice teeth white, but not neon glowing white or be like Captain Veneers or something. And every morning before he goes off to work and I stay home to be a fashion designer he’ll give me a big hug and gaze into my eyes. He’ll be perfect, you know? Like I don’t want to end up with a total douche.