TGIF...so I can watch my favorite shows!

I decided to turn my 30 day Single Woman blog challenge into a 15 day challenge because, well, a lot of the posts that are left are lame...like, to talk about a time you were mad/jealous over one of your married friends, or would you ever go on a reality dating show? Please, those are dumb. New challenge time.

Day 1: What show from your childhood would you love to bring back?

 

 

TV when I was younger was so much better than TV now. I sound like a super old lame-o when I say this, but I do believe that part of what is wrong with the kids in the world today is the shit that they watch on TV. I mean really, think about it...what's on TV now for a girl in junior high to watch? The Kardashians. Teen Mom. 16 and Pregnant. Real World. Snooki & JWow. Jerseylicious. The Bachelor/ette. Real Housewives of one of 87-odd locations.

Don't get me wrong, I watch a lot of this trash on Sunday nights when I'm home alone in my jammies. But I am 30, not 14. I am not a young impressionable kid who walks away from these shows thinking I am not rich enough, not smoking hot enough, not dumb enough to land a man.

My favorite thing about Fridays as a "tween" was the TGIF lineup on, what, Channel 2? It kept me home on Friday nights, usually with a friend or two over to eat popcorn and catch up on the lives of some of our favorite characters: Corey and Topanga, Steve Urquell and Laura Winslow, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, the Cosby kids. Instead of begging my mom to let us go out and do whatever it is that 14 year olds do to get in trouble (have sex, smoke pot, drink cheap liquor), we were home, where our parents were, eating popcorn and drinking soda, watching TGIF before staying up half the night giggling and talking.

In addition to giving kids something to do at home on a Friday night, these shows were just better. Better written, better acted, just better. Reality TV drives me crazy. I loved knowing that next week, I'd have the resolution to the big cliffhanger of my shows from this week, and I often cried at the season or series finales of my favorite shows.

If I could bring back any shows from my childhood, I'd want to bring back Full House, The Cosby Show, Boy Meets World, and Step by Step. Classics. I still love watching reruns of these old shows when TBS does marathons. Because I am that big of a dork. But sometimes they are a nice break from reality shows!

Glad you could make it to my future

Today's topic: Write a letter to your future partner, saying whatever you want to say.

Well, if you are my future partner, you've probably heard (and accepted) everything I should be warning about you, so that's awesome - thank you, future partner, for falling in love with me, and for contining to love me.

Chances are, I will write letters to the future love of my life, because I love to write letters. Whether I send them or leave them in place in my journal  - yes, people, in addition to this blog, I also do actually keep a handwritten journal, because I am apparently addicted to writing - I enjoy writing letters. Letters just seem so much more personal than emails or texts. Maybe it's because there are actual pen strokes, or because chances are there are spelling mistakes that auto correct didn't fix for me, or because it takes a long time to write a letter, plus 40-something cents and a walk to the mailbox to get a letter sent, while it takes literally no effort to send an email.

There are several things that the future man in my life should know, and I assume that if in the future, he's still with me, I've told him what they are. And apparently he's ok with them, so that's good...

Dear Guy in my Future,
I don't want to have kids. I'm too selfish for kids. That sounds bad, but it really isn't. What I mean is, I like money, and I like spending it on myself. I don't want to buy diapers and formula and a crib and bottles, when I can buy plane tickets and book hotels and massages instead. I just don't think I was made with that little ticking time bomb some women have that ticks away til the day you get pregnant. I was instead born with an inate drive to see the world, to travel, to fly, to adventure. And, future-man-who-loves-me, I truly do hope we are traveling together, seeing the world from each other's arms, and having lots of sex in the fancy hotels we're booking rooms in.

I don't cook. Sorry. If I can't make it in a toaster, a blender, or a crock pot, you're out of luck. I had ice cream for dinner last night, and I eat Cheerios for lunch on the weekends. I can't cook and I don't like food enough to learn to be better at it. Chances are, I've made you pancakes and bacon a few times when I'm trying to get lucky, and I will always bake you a cake for your birthday, but please do know that no, I did not make it from scratch.

Juno is a permanent fixture, both in my house and in my bedroom. She does what she wants, sleeps where she wants, and I turn the heat up just for her, even when I'm not cold. I don't care if you don't like cats, are allergic to her, or think she is annoying; she is mine and she will be a known presence until she dies. And when that day comes, I will be devastated. Thank you, future guy, for understanding where Juno came from and why she has a special spot in my heart that makes me think it's funny when she bites you.

I am independant and hard-headed, but I bet you already know that. I celebrate holidays and love to shower my loved ones with affection on their birthday (for a whole week). I like family time, date nights, and I don't wear pants around the house. I deserve - and demand - respect, attention, and quality time. Little things are important, but I do enjoy the grand gesture, too. I suffer from incredible PMS, at which times it is best to just stay away from me, because everything you do will make me scream or cry, sometimes both. I cry at movies, I love to read, and I will probably at some point in our lives together, drag you to a therapist, because I really believe in it. I am a great girlfriend, so I assume I'll be a decent wife as well. I leave cards and notes, I love to get flowers, and I crave physical contact. I like kissing and cuddling and sex, all as often as possible.

If we've made it to the point where you're the man of my future, you probably already know and understand all of what I just wrote. So mostly, please just continue to love me for just the woman I am, even though parts of me are quite eccentric.

Don't call me a cow, or I won't give you the milk.

Today's topic: What are your spiritual beliefs and how do they impact your relationships/relationship status?

Well...I don't really have any spiritual beliefs, which allows me to act a bit slutty without any concern that I'm going to hell.

End blog.

Kidding.

To be fair, I was raised in a Catholic church and even went to a Catholic high school, where we prayed every morning, went to services, took Religion classes every semester, and where I learned that I do not, in fact, believe in most anything taught by the Catholic church. While many of my classmates were studying the Bible in class, I was passing notes to boys. Or about boys. On Sundays, when a lot of students were at church, I was sleeping off the tequila and orange juice I drank on Saturday night. Don't get me wrong, I was a good student. But I was also the one who debated, instead of obeyed, my Relgious Studies teacher. Mostly because I wanted to be a teenage ass hole, but also because I didn't buy into the brainwashing.

In high school, it was wrong to question. Teachers got mad if we asked why or how something had happened or was possible. Our sex ed class consisted of the "do not have sex or you will die" agenda. We were expected to be against abortion, to be virgins, to be complacent. We were told what to do and how to think, and to question it was inappropriate. My parents, thankfully, have always encouraged me to question, debate, educate, and make my own decisions. And trust me when I say, I deeply appreciate that.

From the ripe old age of 16, I have taken birth control pills. I am not a virgin. I do not have a husband. I am very liberal. I am also very, very pro-choice. I enjoy sex for purposes other than procreation. I *gasp* masturbate and don't worry about being damned for it. I think teenagers should have access to condoms in school. I do not believe in abstinence-only education, but rather in sex education. Plus, church is boring.

I wouldn't go as far as to say I do not believe in God. It is more of an agnostic point of view, where I'm unsure of what my beliefs really are. Do I believe in God? I don't really know. Do I practice organized religion? No, most definitely not. Do I pray? Nope. Do I worship the devil? No, not usually. If I were ever to set foot in church again, it would certainly not be a Catholic one, much to my grandmother's dismay. I won't get married in a Catholic church. Or in any other church most likely either. I occassionally worry that a church will ignite should I ever enter one, but that hasn't happened yet, so that's good. But in all seriousness, I just don't have a firm belief in anything specific, and while I can understand and appreciate those of you who do, I also expect you to understand and appreciate that I do not.

 

I have never really thought that my beliefs - or lack thereof - would play any sort of role in my relationships, but the reality is, I wouldn't get far in a relationship with someone who didn't want to have sex with me, who wanted me to attend a church service, or who was pro-life. The reality is, there are some things that are huge issues, and until you're more adult, looking for someone to spend a life with as opposed to a month with, they maybe don't matter. When I was in my early 20's, I didn't give a shit if a guy I was dating was anti-abortion or believed in Heaven and the ways you get there, because I wasn't looking for a life partner at 20. Now that I am older and I tend to not date guys who don't have any hope for the future, it matters. Because I couldn't spend my life with a man who thought he had any right to an opinion on women's reproductive health. Or a man who wouldn't have sex with me til we got married in a church. Um no, that won't work for me. I prefer to get the milk for free before I buy a cow...or however that incredibly sexist and demorialzing statement goes.

So I guess now that I am older, wiser, looking for an actual long term relationship with some staying power, these things do matter. Whether a man supports a woman's right to choose or not is very important. Someone's ability to understand sex education as an important contributor to our future generation is important. His understanding that if by some accidental force of nature I do end up parenting a child, said child will be raised with ALL of the facts, not just the keep-it-in-your-pants ones. And kids or no kids, there are certain things I believe in that are, by definition, deal breakers.

I'm not afraid of you, just so you know

Today's topic: What is your biggest fear as a single person?

My biggest fear as a single person? I'm confused. My biggest fear has always been the same thing, whether I've been single or in a relationship. I am scared of monkeys. You all already know that...

Ok fine. Something more real than monkeys. Even though they are technically what I am most afraid of. Just to make that crystal clear. Monkeys. are. my. biggest. fear.

As a single woman, my biggest fear is the feeling of not being enough for someone. I know where this comes from and I work on it contantly, both internally and externally. I vocalize this fear to the people who need to know of its presence, and I take responsibility for any insecurities left in its wake.

But regardless of knowing the root of this evil and having the skills required to keep it in check, it is a present fear and does occassional rear its head, leaving me an insecure mess in a puddle on the floor.

Does my logical brain know that this fear is ridiculous? Yes, of course. I know that I am exactly perfect for the right person. I know that at some point, some poor sap is going to meet me, fall head over heels for my big bright eyes, my crazy curls, my dynamic personality, and my  infectious smile. I know that this guy is going to be met head on with a smart, strong, independant woman who will not take the back seat, who rarely backs down from a fight, who is headstrong and hard-assed. The poor guy won't even see it coming til it is too late. He'll already be too gushy over me to run. I know that I am good enough, I know that I am the strongest, healthiest version of myself than I have been in a long time, and I know that there is a boy out there who will appreciate and love that.

Does any of that stop the insecurities that occassionally pop up to burst my confidence bubble? No, not at all. Because for 3 years, I had it beat into my head that I was not pretty, that I was not smart, that I was not important, and that I was not worthy of anyone's time, energy, or heart. I was bullied and bulldozed into forgetting who I was and forgetting to care about myself. And those things don't go away overnight. They don't disappear in 10 hours of therapy. They don't vanish when you date someone else; they are still there, and maybe they always will be.

The important thing is, I am no longer afraid of my insecurities, nor do I let my fears get in the way of what I want to do. I speak more openly of my feelings than I ever have, and so far, it has only given me more strength, power, and confidence.

Being vulnerable is hard. It challenges me. It scares me. I am afraid of rejection, afraid of someone else bullying the emotion right out of me. But I have embraced that fear is just part of the journey, and that without it, life would be too easy and I'd take it for granted. Am I afraid of being in love with someone? Hell yes. But I won't let that stop me. I will continue to be the boy-crazy, optimistic, passionate girl I always have been. I will face disappointments and heartache, but in the end I will be happy, and I will have found the person worth all the rest of it. And most important, I'll be healthy, happy, and ready for it.

 

And by the way, I am still far more afraid of monkeys than any of this.

Sometimes the wrong things are the right things for a little while

Today's topic: Describe your most difficult break up and what you learned from it.

 

Most people would probably expect me to say that my most difficult break up was with Kalib, but it wasn't. With Kalib, by the time it got to the break up, I was done and had already checked out, so it was just a matter of moving my stuff out of the house. And yes, the process was hard, losing Rylie was hard, leaving the house I helped purchase was hard. But the breaking up part in itself, was not hard for me. Because I was ready.

Rewind to the relationship I was in prior to meeting Kalib, and that was the most difficult break up I have been through. Not because the relationship was extremely long-lasting or deep, but simply because my heart was still in it when it ended. I didn't want to break up with Zach. I liked him. He was fun and always made me laugh. We had fun together, had great chemistry. But I knew I had to break up with him. He was an alcoholic and he wasn't working, and it wasn't good for either one of us to be in that relationship at that time. My relationship with Zach is a perfect example of how sometimes, you can have the chemistry, but that without the timing, you will fail. It was an example of a time where I rushed into something, where I pushed past my doubts and went for it anyway. And as they tend to do when they're not the right thing, it failed.

It is hard for me now to look back on my relationship with Zach and be critical, because a year ago he was killed in a car accident in northern California. Ironically on his way home to check into an in-patient rehab center to combat his alcoholism. I know that our relationship was not healthy for either of us. I know that it was not perfect, and I don't look back on it with dreamy eyes; I know that while we were having a great time, we were not being responsible about it. Zach was a good person and I will never forget the fun year I spent being a part of his life. I think of him often, and I message his Facebook page when I am feeling particularly blue. We may not have been the right thing for each other, but he was still something right in my life.

It isn't always in the Grand Gesture

Today's Topic: What fictional character do you identify with and why?

In my recent homelessness, I watched a lot of TV streamed from Netflix on my laptop. A lot. I have watched just shy of the entire series of How I Met Your Mother in the last 30 days (don't give me any secrets, I still have seasons 8 and 9 to finish). And for a great deal of the show, I felt a connection to Ted Mosby.

Ted is a hopeless romantic, and all he wants is for some grand gesture to bring him to the love of his life. He looks at the world through the eyes of someone who wants to be in love and wants to share it with the perfect person, but who is growing more cynical that this person is not out there for him. Ted believes in destiny and in fate, and he wears his heart on his sleeve.

It is true. I am Ted Mosby.

At least Ted Mosby is sexy. If I'm him, at least I can move forward knowing how sexy I am.

Despite my best efforts to hide it under sarcasm and independance, I am a complete and total sap. I believe in the same things Ted Mosby does (with the exception of destiny, I don't buy into that) and I want what he wants. There are days where I wake up and hope for a romantic, knock me on my ass, sweep me off my feet gesture from the man of my dreams. There are days where I feel like everyone around me is happy and in love, and that I am destined to be by myself because only ass hats are attracted to me. There are days where I feel like I give and give and give, where I am completely emotionally open and honest, where I am vulnerable and totally ready...and that no one notices it.

And then reality smacks me in the face, and I remember that love is not about grand gestures. Love is not going to appear out of nowhere and brainwash me. Love is something that takes time. The best relationships grow from friendships. I remember that I don't want a knock me on my ass moment to blind me from reality; I want the person who makes my reality better without blinding me. And I am not in a hurry. In fact, I am not really 100% ready, and until I am, I need to focus on myself, not on someone else. I know that my success in a relationship will come from taking the time to be ready, not from rushing through the important parts.

Ted Mosby is an awesome character. He has heart. He is vulnerable. He is open to love. He believes in it. He takes his past experiences and past heartaches and learns from them, usually. Ted Mosby is open and honest and true to his own heart. He goes after what he wants. He expresses his feelings.

And sometimes, even though he loves the Grand Gesture, he remembers that love is not one grand gesture, but rather a compilation of all the small, sweet, moments. And that's when Ted finds what he spent 9 seasons looking for: the mother of his children, the love of his life.

I am Ted Mosby. I am the hopeless romantic who has fallen in love with all the wrong people so far and still somehow believes in a deep, true, passionate love. I am Ted Mosby. And I am ok with that.

There are a lot of benefits to being my friend

Today's Topic: Describe how you met the last person you texted and talk about your friendship/relationship.

The last person I texted is someone I text fairly often. And by fairly often, I mean if we went a day without at least a text or two, I'd probably think he was dead. This person is a good friend of mine and has been for, what, 9 years now. The only catch is, when I have a boyfriend or he has a girlfriend, we don't really talk. And we definitely don't hang out. And if we happen to run into each other, we certainly do not drink together alone. And, I'm sure you can guess why that is.

Yes, that is because we are friends who happen to enjoy having sex with each other.

And from what I can tell, that's not a nice thing to do with your friend when you have a boyfriend or girlfriend. And in the last 9 years, I have learned that I am too physically attracted to this person, and the chemistry is just too present, to maintain a friendship when other people's feelings, hearts, or relationship statuses are involved.

We met 9 years ago, at work. He was charming and irresistable, and of course at 22, I was...well, I was drunk mostly. But I also had a nice ass, and I loved to drink cheap beer and play Big Buck Hunter, so obviously I was a total prize. We were friends, and we occassionally hooked up, usually at 3:00 in the morning after a night closing down the Brew or the Harmony. Goodness, I was so classy in my early twenties.

In any case, the friendship we had 9 years ago was very shallow; it involved a lot of drinking, a lot of jealousy, some tears, some anger, and honestly, a lot of fun as well. But thankfully, we've both outgrown the way we treated each other in the past and actually do have a good friendship, even outside of the physical.

This person is someone I know I can count on to tell me the truth, to offer me sound advice when I ask for it, to tell me when I am acting crazy, and to listen to me when I'm venting. And more than anything, he makes me laugh. Whether we are at his place or mine, seeing a movie, having dinner or a drink, or watching a football game, rest assured I will be entertained. There is a healthy dose of give and take in my friendship with him; while he is able to give me advice as I need it, he is also one to approach me for the same. I no longer feel what I felt 9 years ago - that I was the one giving and he was the one taking, our friendship has surpassed that and is much more balanced than it used to be. I contribute that to the time I spent in therapy, because I often just quote my therapist to him when he needs to figure some shit out.

One thing I have learned, not necessarily from this relationship, but from relationships in general - and life experience in general really, is that chemistry is vital, but so is the timing. When you push for something that you are not ready for, it will inevitably fail. When you force something instead of waiting for it to progress naturally, you ruin it. I have rushed things in the past, pushed them when instinctivly I was not ready, and look where that has gotten me. I'm not in high school anymore, I don't need to label every relationship I have right away, nor do I need to make everything into a big deal or to push when I am not ready. As I have taught my dear friend Rachel, most of the time, people really just need to CTFD (calm the fuck down) and let things come at them. As long as there continues to be a presence of honesty and communication, I will continue to be satisfied.

Pun. Intended.

Someone (not this same person) just told me that I should proceed with this blog post, despite the fact that sometimes - especially as a woman - it is hard to admit publicly that you're having sex with someone on a casual basis, someone who is not your boyfriend. People get all judgey about it and want to start in with their "you're gonna get hurt" speeches. And while I respect the opinions of my friends, some of whom disagree with most of the life decisions I make, I am who I am and I may as well be open about it. Afterall, this is my blog, and isn't that the point?

Go ahead, let your guard down...I dare you

Today's topic: Five things that are most important to you in a future partner.

 

I don't feel like I have a long list of demands from a guy that has contributed to the constant disappointment I find in men, but there are several things that I do believe are essential characteristics for someone to keep my attention and make me happy for a long time. Something that a lot of people don't realize about me is, I really am a hopeless romantic. Jaded to some degree, perhaps, but still really just looking for a lifetime of happiness with someone who loves me.

 

When someone asks me, what are you looking for in a guy, I always just stare at them blankly, as if I have no idea what qualities are important. But what matters to me are the same things that should be important to any woman - I want a man who is respectful, kind, appreciative, attentive, and honest. I don't really think any of these things are so outlandish that they warrant their own blog post, but they are apparently also harder to come by than you might thing, since I've never dated anyone who was able to deliver on the whole package.

More than any of the qualities I can count on my fingers though, I think what truly is the most important thing that I need from a partner is the feeling that nothing I do is stupid. I need to be with someone who validates the way that I feel, whether it makes sense or not, and whether it is logical or not. I don't always make sense, and I don't expect anyone - friends or boyfriends - to always follow my line of thought. But I won't tolerate someone calling my thoughts, stupid. I am not stupid, and what I think is never stupid. I do need to have that feeling of support and validation, so that I am able to continue being open and honest.

Being safe in my vulnerability is so vital, and something that seems to come along far too rarely. People become far too defensive and build far too many walls around their hearts as they endure breakups, failed relationships, or disappointments. This is something we are all guilty of, not just me. The easy thing to do when someone hurts you is arm yourself with an emotional shield, to barricade yourself from ever feeling that pain again. But when someone comes along and shows you respect, compassion, and support; when someone listens to you, validates your emotions, and continues to want to be around you, it is your responsibility to start letting go of those brick walls. The person on the other side deserves for you to let them in, and more importantly, you deserve to have someone who wants to be there.

Relationships are no easy feat, but I do hold out hope that at some point, I will find someone worth all the effort. And of course, if I can't have any of that, there's always the sex appeal of George Clooney to satisfy me...

I just try to live like Barbie Doll

Today's topic: Where are you in your life vs where you thought you'd be at this point?

When I was a kid, 30 was old. Like, reeeeeeally old. My mom was 30. And that was old. If you had asked me at 5 years old, where I would be when I was 30, I would have said several things:

1. Married.
2. A teacher.
3. An NBA player like my idol, Clyde the Glide Drexler.
4. Having babies.
5. Having cats and dogs. Like, ten of them.

As a little girl, I played a lot of Barbie (who, by the way, spent a lot of time naked with Ken), and a lot of baby dolls with Stace, Kitty, DeLaina, LaDonna, and Carolyn. And when we were playing baby dolls, we always had a lot of kids and a lot of pets, and of course, a husband...and were *gasp* 25 years old!!

25 was "the age to be" when we were playing. Barbie was always 25, we were always 25 in our mock households with all of our baby dolls. 25 had a nice ring to it for what defined a grown up.

The only thing that 25 year old Barbie and 25 year old fake housewife and 25 year old real life me had in common was that the amount of sex I had at 25 rivaled Barbie and Ken's. I wasn't married or popping out babies, I didn't have ten pets or a house of my own. I was in college, living with my parents, working at Old Chicago, and probably wishing I was still 5 years old.

The same is true for 30 year old me. I am single, living in an apartment (two days from now), just me and my one cat - not ten cats and ten dogs - without a house of my own with my hsuband. I don't wear high heels and dresses every day, but I have learned how to more adequately do my makeup. I still maintain a decent Barbie-and-Ken type sex life, but I have learned a thing or two about the ways they did it wrong way back in 1988 when I was 5 years old...I mean, come on, he just laid on top of her like a dead fish, and she just laid under him like another dead fish. Get it together, Barbie, you deserve better than that!

I have also somehow managed to overcome my dreams of playing in the NBA, after my mom explained to me why little girls at 4 feet tall don't generally get to grow up into 7 foot tall black men, and I realized at some point that I had no desire to be a teacher, what with all the hatred I have towards other people's kids. So you could say my career aspirations have changed since I was little. I have a career I am proud of, where I make decent money, or at least enough to support myself - for the most part. I still think I would have done Clyde the Glide proud, but I suppose life goes on.

The way I viewed adulthood as a child has clearly changed. I am proud of my single, stable, grownup Barbie life. And for the record, Barbie wasn't even as commited to Ken as I liked to think. I caught her in bed with a GI Joe once, and she definitely spent some time in my brother's room with a Power Ranger. So there's that...

Wanna come to a no-pants party?

Today's Topic: Your favorite "weird/funny single behavior." Anything that is uniquely you and that living alone allows you to do.

I don't wear pants. No, for real, I don't wear pants. Ever. I really think the most difficult part about the last 3 months of not having my own place has been that when I get home from work, I have had to put on sweat pants.

I come home from work and tend to shed clothing in a trail from the front door all the way to my bedroom. I leave my purse and keys at the front door, kick my shoes off in the entryway, have usually taken my top off in or around the living room, always leave my bra in the hallway, and shed my pants in my room, practically tripping out of them as I walk to the closet. I pull on a tee shirt or a hoodie (depending on the weather), put on a pair of clean socks, and head back out to the living room to feed Juno, make dinner, and turn the TV on. In a hoodie. And socks. And panties. But never in pants.

On a side note, when I'm drunk, this "making a trail" of clothes extends much further...on a recent birthday, I found my earrings in the freezer several days later, and my necklace in the window sill. It's like I wander around aimlessly shedding everything I'm wearing.

Anyway, back to the story...

My electric bill takes the brunt of this strange behavior, as I am almost always freezing cold. I turn the heat up instead of putting pants on, because that's how much I hate wearing pants. I snuggle up under a big blanket on the couch with Juno, because that's how much I hate wearing pants.

I don't know where or when this started happening. I have never been a big fan of jeans; in high school, I rocked dance pants to school almost daily, and getting me to put on a nice pair of jeans was like a huge triumph. I never put jeans on at home. And I mean, never. I obviously wear jeans out, and wear dress slacks to work, but on the evenings that I have friends over or a family dinner, I always shed them and pull on my comfies. I guess maybe I just like to be cozy. And the most cozy I can be is, in my panties and a shirt, with no pants on.

I suppose that when I do finally meet someone who wants to live with me, the no pants thing could do one of two things. Either my guy will take it as a nightly invitation for after-work-but-before-dinner sex, or he'll think I'm a nut and will just laugh at me. Either way, I will have turned the heat up high enough that he'll get hot and have to take his pants off too.

So look at that...no pants. I win.