What do I... ?

I asked myself two questions when I woke up this morning.  First, I wondered what gets me excited these days?  And secondly, what do I look forward to the most?  Basically this boils down to one question burning in my mind: What gets me out of bed in the morning?  Or, what would get me out of bed in the morning.  Other than the fact that if I don't, my sister is liable to call the police and ask them to take me to a hospital.  She tends to be overly dramatic about these things.  Coffee and sunshine readily come to mind, but I'm digging deep to try to figure out what would get me going these days?  Thus commences an accurate transcript of my inner monologue

I spend the majority of my time alone these days.  Which I hate.  Although the cats are here and I love just holding and hugging my big, fluffy Porshy-cat.  But she's really just a substitute for what I really want: someone important in my life (aka a someone in a strong, committed relationship with me).  I thought that T and I had that, and at first it was so great.  I loved how perfectly I could tuck myself under his arm and he was a solid, muscular guy and when he gave me hugs, it was always so warm and cuddly and I never, ever wanted to move.  I wanted to soak in all that love I felt.  I miss him so much.  But I miss the T that I knew when we first met, not the one that did all these shady things.

But enough of thinking about that stuff.  A guy and has never made me truly happy, so what else?  If I had a job, would I really be so much happier?  Certainly perhaps less stressed about my finances.  But if I took another finance/investment-related job, would I really be happy?  I pondered this yesterday when I was downtown in the central business district and saw all these men in suits.  I was actually, momentarily recalling the feeling of power and excitement one can have conducting a meeting or talking with an executive about the decisions facing the company.  I too, wanted to don a suit once again and get back in the game...

Well...while making good money has always been a good thing... I reminded myself that I've always made more money than every guy I've dated, except my first boyfriend.  Although, when I first met him, he was an intern and I was an almost full-time assistant in the same department.  My AGI that year was actually probably more than his.   Ha.  I have never thought of that before.  But it really kind of sucks always making more than whomever I'm dating.  Also, I guess T made more money than I did...I was unemployed.and he was not.  But I had had a better job and had made more money than he did before that.  So when do I get to be with someone who can take care of me and I don't have to feel obligated to take care of him, financially or otherwise because I'm the one who makes more?  

Back to the job thing...so, am I really happy in this Midwest, highly segregated, conservative, extremely cliquish city?  Sure, friends and such have been great, but I keep coming back to what I really want: a loving, committed relationship.  There's something you should know about me here.  I'm not really attracted to average white-bread American boys.  Okay, not really attracted to white men.  And as much as I hate to say it, the majority of non-whites here are thugs...just as much as in Kentucky, most whites are hicks.  Yes, I'm generalizing and stereotyping and you can hate me for it, but it's kind of true.  Not to mention, if you're white and grew up in this city, you're likely to think your high school days were your hey-days.  It's true.  They don't have much of a world view here, in a city where you are judged upon what high school you went to.  I had a conversation yesterday about this with two women from this area who I think did not appreciate in the least, my strong aversion to dating their men.  They are used to it.  It's what they presumably want or get to look forward to if they want to get married and stay here.  But me?

Not a chance.  I'm looking for someone well educated, ambitious and if not already successful, I'll take well on the road to success with great potential.  Mature, kind, compassionate and no credit card debt (read: financially stable).  Someone with a world view.  Preferably preferring to take our kids (if we have them, I'm not sure on that subject yet) to museums not the suburban devil.  They just don't make those here, I'm convinced.  I could launch into my tirade of yesterday and explain how the women of this city have done a great job of conditioning the men to treat them poorly and to expect a hook-up over a real relationship, but I can already feel the painful jabs of daggers coming my way.  At that point in the conversation yesterday, I could sense I had really offended one girl (she said she was eternally single though, since she had three cats so I'm not sure why she cared so much).  

So, moving to Boston, NYC or San Francisco or...somewhere with a much larger and diverse population where I feel I'd fit in and not stick out like a sore thumb would be apropos.  Also, I sense more jobs are there anyways.  I really don't know how this monologue of what excites me and gets me going turned into a diatribe about this city.  Maybe it's my anger towards T being directed towards other things.  Don't worry, even thought T knows about my blog, he never reads it.  Which I always thought was uncool.  Because if you like me and care about me, read my blog so you know how I feel about things...I'm handing you a "get to know me better with low effort" on a platter!

Sigh.  The end.