The Single Girl Files: Standards. There's a reason for them.

So. It's been a while since I did a Single Girl Files post, but don't get too excited. It's not because I'm all in love or anything. My single girl status has not changed.

Lately, I've been thinking quite a bit about standards. Most of us girls have them. There are certain things that we can accept in a man; other things, we cannot. Deal-breakers. You know what I'm talking about. And I seem to have a lot of them.

It's true. I've been called "picky" before. My friends will have a guy all lined up for me, I take a quick inventory of what he has to offer, and then curl up my nose. "Nah. He's wearing a striped shirt with checked shorts. No can do." or "His name is Winston. I can't date a guy named Winston."

You know. That kind of thing.

Shallow? Perhaps. But we all have standards. And a few years ago, I learned pretty quickly that I'm not willing to bend too many of my standards.

It all started the night before my friends Sara & Graham's Stag & Doe party...

I was at Gavan's. Naturally. And I *may* have had a few drinks. There were two "new" guys standing at the bar. One was quite attractive, the other was...not. But after trying to flirt it up with the hot one (in other words, drunk slobbering all over him. nice.), he finally flashed his wedding ring. Ahhhhh. Time to back off. I get it.

(SIDEBAR: I'm terrible for not looking for rings. It just never crosses my mind to check. You would think, after all these years, I'd know better. ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE RING, JILL.)

Anways, Married Guy's buddy, the not-so-attractive one, kept talking to me. I had my beer goggles on. I didn't dis-engage. In fact, I encouraged him to come back the next night. Sold him tickets to my friends' mixed party. The next thing I know, he's walking me out and giving me his card. HIS CARD. The first time in my life that a guy gave me his number. I was soooo excited and soooo drunk that I sort of didn't notice that he had a really REALLY big nose...

Until he showed up again the next night at Sara & Graham's party. That's right. He actually came. Wearing a Hawaiian-print shirt. Tucked INTO his jeans. And only then did I realize he had very, very big nose. Ichabod Crane-ish.



You think I'm exaggerating. I am not.

Ask my friends who were present. They saw him staring at me and chasing me around all night. They thought this predicament of mine was just priceless.

Literally everywhere I turned, he was there. I'd be coming out of the washroom and I'd run into him in the hall. Everytime I came out of the kitchen to bring the midnight lunch out? There he'd be. I made sure to dance with alllll of my friends' boyfriends that night - and the bride-to-be's dad - to ward him off of asking me to dance.

Nick, the owner of the bar, even gave me a lecture. "You're not being very nice to that boy. He came back tonight to see YOU! YOU told him to be here!"

How do you politely say, "I'm sorry, but I didn't take the size of his shnozz into account. And he definitely wasn't wearing a tropical shirt tucked into his jeans last night..." ???

It's mean. I know. But don't judge. You know you have standards too. (And I'm assuming guys have them too, and that is why I'm still single...)

So. I think we've established that a big beak and tacky, tucked-in shirts aren't going to fly with me. But please, allow me to share a list of things that I am looking for in a boyfriend/future husband. If you know of anyone who has any or all of these qualities, please direct them to me:

Must have a normal name. Or at least a name that can be shortened or nicknamed into something cooler. I just can't deal with Winston. I'm sorry. (PS - no, I don't know any guys named Winston. Just an example.)

Money is a good thing. I always tell people I need a rich man so that when we have kids, I don't have to go back to work. My dream is to stay home and raise my children, like my mom did with us. I realize that most normal families aren't able to do this anymore. Hence, the reason he needs to be a pro athlete, or recently have won the lottery.

He needs to be a Sens fan. You think I'm kidding. Well...maybe it's not a complete deal-breaker. But he needs to at least be a hockey fan. And if he's a Leafs fan? We may have some serious, serious issues.

Nice car or truck = big points. I drive a '97 Rav 4. It would be nice to drive around in a newer vehicle from time to time. The nicer and newer, the better. It will impress me. A Mustang is a big plus.

Must be able to look good in ball pants. You guys know I have a thing for ball pants. Some guys can pull it off. Some can't. This is important to me.

Can he play guitar? Please? I'm a sucker for a guy who can play guitar and sing. Plus, it would feed my dreams of us one day becoming Johnny and June.

A cottage. And a boat. Musts. I want to live on the water. Or at least own a place where I can go to be on the water on weekends. So yes, it would be handy if he already came with a nice cottage and a fast boat.

Sweet but not cheesy-romantic. I don't think I could handle the cheese. But when I say, "Do these jeans make me look fat?", he needs to know exactly the right thing to say. Otherwise, he's a goner.

WANTS KIDS. This is a given. I want babies. And I'm not gonna wait forever.

Willing to let me be his stylist. I've made a big to-do over Big Beak's Hawaiian shirt. Truth is, that's not a deal-breaker. Some guys just don't have a clue. I get that. It's okay. But please, let me take you shopping. Let me show you what I like to see on a guy. If I can groom him, we'll be okay. (But the nose? That was just too much.)

It would be good if he looked like Wade Redden. Even just a little. It would help.

Come on, one of you must know a dude who fits the criteria. Hook me up.