Today Flavorpill featured a post on The Love Stories of Intellectual Power Couples. And it hit me: This is a huge part of why I’ll probably be by myself for the foreseeable future. How often does a Harold Pinter connect with a Lady Antonia Fraser, or a Siri Hustvedt and a Paul Auster? It’s a crapshoot. Plus I clearly missed my chance when I was at that hoity-toity Ivy League School. That’s a tale for another post.
The fact of the matter is, no matter how much I might try to deny it, I need intellectual stimulation from my friends, family and lovers. I grew up with debate, asking questions, having an opinion, reading, all that. I know how it sounds to some people, but this is necessary to me. No, I don’t choose my friends based upon what degree they have or where they went to school, but because I tend to gravitate towards people who have similar interests to mine, my friends tend to be educated, smart, relatively sophisticated people.
I can’t see myself dating and being in a relationship with a dude who doesn’t share those characteristics. In fact, even if a guy is as cute as all get-out, if he just doesn’t have intellectual curiosity, or we don’t have generally overlapping curiosities (I don’t tend to have much in common with techie types to be honest) but if he’s just not all that…er…bright? Interest shuts off pretty quickly. I get real, real bored.
Now of course I can be ratchet and foolish. And we all know I watch more TV than is healthy, and my geekery borders on the epic. But I would give anything to find what Ayelet Waldman wrote about when she shared what she felt for her husband Michael Chabon.
But this blog is about trying to be realistic. Radical Honesty. That’s my mantra. But I want what I want, and I need what I need.