Couch Potato Princess

Have I given up the search for a prince? It's been a while since I've kissed any frogs, after all, and if my theory is true, I've got a lot of puckering up to do before one of these adorable little amphibians transforms into the prince of my dreams.

The short answer is no - my optimism knows no bounds and hope is alive and well here in Princess-ville. I most certainly believe that falling madly in love is possible. But I'm not going to lie to you. I'm awfully lazy - and the relentless pursuit of frogs is mentally, spiritually, and physically exhausting. Unless I can find a shortcut, I might spend the next inning sitting on the bench.

It's not that I don't enjoy the company of frogs. I do. But given the choice between hanging out with a frog or laying like a beached whale on my couch, inhaling potato chips and watching reality TV, nine times out of ten I'm picking the potato chips. Why? It's pretty easy to explain. The couch doesn't care if I'm having a bad hair day. I don't have to wear makeup or shave my legs to sit on the couch. The couch doesn't care if I'm wearing giant granny panties, a food-stained t-shirt, and mismatched socks. I don't have to be witty or charming or polite to the couch. If I've had a shitty day at work, I can lie on the couch and feel sorry for myself without worrying about how unattractive my behavior is. I don't have to feign interest in the couch's life. I don't have to laugh at the couch's jokes. And I don't have to wonder if the couch finds me attractive. I don't have to wonder, "Is the couch going to kiss me?" or "Why won't the couch kiss me? What's wrong with me?"

Simply put, the couch accepts me just the way I am. Our relationship is simple and it's well-defined. We know our roles. There's no confusion with the couch. I'm never left wondering, "Is this a date? Or are we just friends?" where the couch is concerned. I never wonder where I stand with the couch. Because let's face it. Where the couch is concerned, I'm not standing.

If the frog community showed up for me the way the couch does, I might still be in the game. The couch has never let me down the way frogs have - but at the same time, it's a pretty one-sided relationship. Frogs do have a slight advantage over the couch in that respect. But damn, frogs - you are complicated! I don't know what you're thinking, what you're feeling, what you want. I actually think frogs should come with an instruction manual. I'd read it, and then I'd adjust my behavior and expectations accordingly.

For example, a frog instruction manual might read something like this: This frog's divorce was just finalized. He thinks he's over it. He's not. He is SO not ready to date yet, but he won't admit that. He thinks you're cute and smart but he is going to FREAK OUT the second you kiss him. You will never know where you stand with this frog because frankly, he doesn't know either. He has a lot of great qualities and you'll enjoy spending time with him. But for the love of God, keep your expectations low. He won't transform into a prince but he is a fun companion. Eventually, you and this frog will evolve into "just friends" but for now, if you can tolerate the ambiguity, this frog will show you a good time. Personally, I think this type of instruction manual would be extremely helpful. It would save me a lot of obsessing, and I would always know exactly how to behave. Why hasn't anyone invented this yet?

For now, this Princess is laying low and spending most of her time showering the couch with love, affection, and potato chip crumbs. Am I on sabbatical from dating? Absolutely not. I'm just not relentlessly pursuing Prince Charming right now. Should he show up, I'll change clothes, get my fat ass off the couch, apply Chapstick, and pucker up ASAP.

© 2010 Princess D