Why should the love of philosophical thought preclude adoration of the ridiculous? Could being grandmother to grown step-children’s babies satisfy me?
I want a man with an absurd sense of humor profound respect for life and meaning. Do I give up on family and go for a man set to retire in 10, who wants an attractive, intelligent companion to travel the world with?
Some people dislike the snorting guffaw that is my personality. And anyway, my man thinks I’m hilarious because he’s so funny I can hardly stand myself, and people tend to match in these things. It’s such an insufferable bummer, and I’m so over it! Am I simply determined to not get what I I want, by finding flaws where none exist? Everything I’ve dreamed of, the chance to grow a family, to be a mother, to build a stable home, beautiful and warm, filled with music.
But I need to know that my partner and I will laugh so hard some nights that we fall off the couch, lose our voices or bladders, and beg the other to stop being so damned funny, I might die from funny! I don’t [think I] need my man to think I’m funny so much as I need know he laughs his ass off regularly.
It may seem draconian but if the answer is no, I’d rather strike out on my own, forever, roam independently, never worry.