I've been thinking. About my Walter Matthau fascination and what it signifies. I think I am attracted to slightly odd men.
My essential components in a man are:
1. A certain morose taciturnity. Yes, I find grumpiness extremely attractive. I like an introspective and reserved quality. Men who are cheerful and chatty grate on me. That is why I could never date a Liverpudlian.
2. He has to be funny, very funny, but it has to be a dry, dour, sardonic and self-depreciating humor.
3. Being an absolute pauper I do crave a Blake Carrington-esque, silver-haired oil tycoon. Yet, at the same time, I am wary of those who are ruthlessly ambitious. It just seems plain daft. To spend all that time scheming, plotting, sweating and toiling but then never having the time to take your kids to the beach. I think I am a slacker at heart. People should do something they believe in. Believing in making money is not enough.
4. Corduroy wearing, Guardian reading, feathery-stroker sensitive liberal types need not apply. I classify myself as 'liberal', but I reserve the right to indulge in the occasional politically incorrect rant. I do not want to be made to feel guilty for washing my undies at 40 degrees, being too lazy to recycle Chappie cans and using the occasional phrase such as 'cheese eating surrender monkey' or 'shell-suited dole-hound' to describe those ne're do wells who cross my path.
5. He could never drive a BMW. Men in BMWs are cunts. (see what I mean about politically incorrect rants). Seriously though. Why do they never indicate? Why do they look so goddamn smug about it?
6. I think men and women are different. It is in those differences that attraction lies. I think women should be soft, nurturing, gentle, rounded, caring, tactile and creative. Men should be confident, practical, strong, be able to fix things, be protective, have integrity and be quite dominant. Am I sounding like a 1950s housewife? Possibly. Maybe it is how I was brought up, in a traditional family with old-fashioned values.
7. Physically, I like strong arms (ideally two), brown eyes (although Eee Hun, my teaching assistant is convinced everyone with brown eyes is a wrong' un), tall (if I wear high heels I am 6 ft, so essential really), stubble and someone who doesn't try too hard.
Why does this now read like a lonely-heart's ad? It was supposed to be about Walter Matthau.