"What's your type?" A curious friend asked me.
"I need a guy with a sense of humor, one that can laugh at himself and at the ironic nature of the human experience, someone who is curious and seeking answers, open-minded, and into the paranormal. It'd be nice if he can marvel at the stars and also enjoy roadside carnivals, love skinny dipping and the outdoors."
"No," my friend shook her head vigorously, "you're type."
"That's my type."
She sighed. "What does he look like?"
"I don't know, whatever package houses that content."
She sighed wearily again. "Okay, what does he do for a living?"
"I don't know, whatever career he pursued." I'm frowning at this point, wondering what she wants from me.
"What does he drive?"
"Whatever gets him to work?" I hope for a right answer.
"You're a hopeless paranormal geek." She sighed and finally gave up figuring out my priorities in finding a mate.
Mr. Paranormal Geek is likely to curl up and watch the latest Bigfoot documentaries with me, as well as plan treks into the field to study. He's going to have to be a sensual and loving creature that enjoys petting and rainstorms, full moons and UFO watching. He'd have a dream of a cabin or a jeep, own a metal detector, and totally get it when I make a reference to Giorgio from "Ancient Aliens."
What I'm looking for, I tried to explain to my happily married friend is; whoever gets me in all my dorkiness, playfulness, curiosity and wonder.