Confessions of A Naughty Girl

Talk Java To Me, Or Why Nerds Are The New Bad Boy

I wake up every day and feel like I'm still 13, even though I am exactly twice this age. I don't feel age, even though I have an upcoming mortgage, and a job, and a cat, and my parents keep nagging me about getting married.

But the process of evolution is slow and felt only in the nuances and subtleties of everyday life. And the other day, there was nothing more evident that I am growing up than the realization that my taste in men has changed completely. Even in the past year.

For me, nerds are the new bad boy.

With all due respect to the men of the past and the men of current, each group stands on an opposite side of the planet, divided like our little friend Moses parted the Red Sea. And I, my friends, have crossed the bridge into Canaan.

It used to be that the meaner you were to me, the more I loved you. Come to think of it, with few exceptions, I'm not sure how I ever really had boyfriends, but I did. I liked them rough around the edges (and in the middle) and emotionally unavailable. So appealing was the idea that I could "save" them that I reduced myself to doing ridiculous things, like baking cookies to cheer them up and flying across the country to see them. And yet I was shat on time and time again, and couldn't figure out why. It was exciting, and frustrating, and exhilarating, and the more the rollercoaster winded, the more involved I got. It seems a little crazy to me now, but I feel like I'm such a stable person that I craved a little instability. It was my weird way of rebelling vicariously, I guess.

I always liked the "cool" guys, the guys that I initially assumed wouldn't give me a chance. I liked them good-looking and cocky and complicated and aloof. And if this isn't proof, consider that I broke up with a boyfriend because he was going to jail. Believe me now?

And then, somewhat recently, that changed. I stopped looking for Mr. Cocky and started valuing completely different things. A job, for one. Unemployed? Not for me. Confused about your career? Likely not for me. Hourly wage? Not for me. Sorry buddy, but I didn't spend six years of post high-school education to support your ass. I don't expect you to give me the keys to your Lex, per se, so don't expect me to chip in for your bus pass. I know I sound like Chilli from TLC when I say that I don't want no scrub, but shit man, those girls were on to something.

Also, you must be nice, particularly to me. Get along with your family. Have a solid group of friends - more than say, 6 total. Have you gone to college? Perfect. Grad school of some sort? Even better, but not required. These are the things I'm looking at, friends. No longer can you get to my girlish charms with a nice smile and a big dick (which is a bonus, but no longer sole criteria). The bigger your brain, the better chance you have.

My Mr. Current is college-educated, close to his family, has a nice group of friends who seem to love him, and has an extraordinarily nerdy job that he loves. In the many conversations we've had about his job, he speaks so fluidly about shit I don't understand that he may as well be speaking Swahili to me, but I love it. Here's a guy who has a passion for something and can speak intelligently about it (and by happy coincidence, is very financially stable and quite successful). Granted, he's out of his twenties, so he's a few steps ahead of those of us who are still trying to figure out how college flew by so quickly, but he has his shit together, and I love it.

The other night, we were talking about something technical, and he started spouting off all of this jargon about a client he's working on. At the very mention of "wide area network", I felt a "ping" and my knees went weak. I didn't understand half of what he was saying (and he knew it), but f*ck was I interested. Stimulated, even. It occurred to me that I was actually learning something from this guy, and it excited me that I was excited to learn. Score!

Best of all, he's nice to me. He's nice to me because (and I hate to make him sound bad by saying this)...well, I'm not sure he knows how to be not nice. I'm never secretly stressing out that he'll forget to pay for dinner or open the car door and thus ruin the fantasy I have in my head about being treated like a lady, because he always does both. And then some. I guess I've never really appreciated being treated well until now, but as I mentioned a few blogs ago, it's so much more important than I ever thought. It's nice to feel protected, and cared about, and...well, womanly.

I never thought I'd be into someone who might be categorized as "dorky" solely by virtue of what he does. It went against everything I ever thought I wanted. Did I really want someone who could take a computer or a car or a bed apart and put it back together? Wouldn't it just be more fun to be with someone who would order me to get him a beer and pile the laundry in the corner? But the thing is, he's not dorky at all. He's a passionate guy who has varied interests and actively pursues them and doesn't give shit whether you think it's cool or not. And that attitude makes him cooler than any hot bum I've ever known.

There's a distinct difference between what we think we want and what we really need, and I think I've stumbled upon one of my hooks. Nerds of the world - I am calling. I hope I didn't jinx myself with this guy and something goes awry now that I've gone and blogged my fat mouth off about how great he is, but you know what? Even if it doesn't work out, I'll be okay. With my pocket protector as my witness, I will set my sights elsewhere, and never give up my dream that someday, I could have a "Magic: The Gathering" themed wedding with the man of my dreams.

posted by KA @ 11:07 PM