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I'm not into SM. There's nothing more exciting then that feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you meet someone special. That feeling when you get your first phone call, or your first flower. That feeling when you get when the car door is held open for you, or the restaurant chair is pulled out for you.The sweet feeling that a special person has entered your life can be seem heaven-sent to some, and like a lucky break to others. The term �soul-mates� comes up quite regularly in either online dating forums or in magazines. What does this mean, soul-mates? Are we born pre-destined to meet that one special person? Is there ever that one special other half? In a partner's recent Blog entry, his comments made me sit back and think to myself, is there actually someone out there who is meant to be my other half, or is this all just a farce? In my life, I have had boyfriends come and go. Some didn�t work out for me, some moved away, and some I just lost their numbers. When I was a young pup, I played with Barbies. I had a big Barbie house, lots of Barbie clothes, a pink Corvette, (which really was the coolest thing ever), a dog named Fluff, and Ken. Ahhh Ken. Ken and Barbie were together for as long as I could remember. They had children, friends like Midge and Skipper, and did the coolest things ever together. In my eyes, they were soul-mates. And then all that went to shit the other day while reading the daily American propaganda webpage, cnn.com. Apparently it's "Splitsville" for Barbie and Ken. What does this mean for me? The greatest anatomically incorrect soul-mate couple who ever lived were now parting ways. The rate of divorce is up. The number of single women is growing. The Sex in the City ladies are, I mean, *sniff*, were, the ladies who told us, "Soul-mates can kiss my derriere". They didn't need them. Why do I? What if I don't like the dude who's pre-destined to be my dude? What if he smokes or has some weird fetish with pinkie fingers? Although I do like to dream that there's someone for everyone, I can't help but wonder about those people who never meet that person; they kind of shoot the the soul-mate idea out of the sky by being so... you know... soul-mateless. I like having choice. I like being able to custom-order my man. Blue eyes, green eyes, brown hair, blonde hair, tall, athletic, intellectual, and good with dogs. Oh, and it doesn't hurt if he opens the door for me either. P.S. SM, as written in the title, means Soul-Mate you dirty punk. Posted by Bella at 12:45 PM# 0 Comments:
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