Wednesday, July 20, 2011

51 Things Revisted

I was really bothered by how I ended the last post. I was trying to come up with one of those snappy easy endings: 1. A good boy who needs a Queenpin to worship, and who isn't afraid of the laundry. It is the word worship that bothers me. defines worship as a noun
1.reverent honor and homage paid to god or a sacred personage, or to any object regarded as sacred.

This Queenpin loves to be admired, I love to be loved, but I do not really want to be worshiped. I don't want to be sacred, I smoke and cuss too much for that. Plus, look at what worship did to Princess Diana, look what it has done to Jesus. I rumminated for days after that post about what I really want in a relationship and then surprisingly, a stranger showed me.

I was observing in the acupuncture clinic at my school. The woman on the treatment table was one of those plump, sweet southern ladies with makeup done to perfection and some rockin' poof to her hair. I could tell this woman was a steel magnolia as soon as I met her. She could get her point across with Southern sass and a big ole' grin. You could also tell she's was a happy woman, at peace with her life. Her easy laugh rang through the clinic.

When I was taking the woman's pulses I had to move a diamond bracelet down her arm. "That's pretty," I remarked. "Thank you," she smiled with a cat ate the canary grin, "My husband gave it to me."

The acupuncturist I was working with said excitedly, "Look at the purse! Her husband picked it out and gave it to her too." The Southern lady's face turned a little pink and her smile became shy. You could see in her expression, that she was a little embarrassed by the purse, but she loved that he bought it for her.

My eyes traveled to the other side of the room and landed on a purse that was this woman. It was nice brown leather with different textures, and across the top was a cheetah print strap to fasten it closed. I was shocked that by just by looking at this purse I could tell this husband knew his wife. Maybe better than she knew herself. The purse was a physical representation of how her husband saw her: beautiful, wild, and complex. The steel magnolia's embarrassment was in the fact that she didn't necessarily want to show the world all of these things about herself. "What a good man," I murmured, feeling my throat close up with envy.

"He is," she replied. She got this dreamy look on her face and softly said, "He is truly my best friend."

That is when my heart ached with the wants. The game show bells went off in my head, ding, ding, ding! That is the correct answer! The Queenpin wants a friend, and one with balls.

My relationships, always, from 1st grade boyfriend to my last relationship with biker man, have always had friction, contention, the extremes of yin and yang. So far apart in their qualities that there is a constant tug, not a gentle flow. That poor boy from first grade still has a Queenpin fingernail scar over his eye.

Maybe it was the books I read or the soap operas I watched growing up. I did read all of the V.C. Andrews books at a very young age. Who knows where the misconception started that there's gotta be all this DRAMA and HEARTACHE? This tortured passion. But it doesn't matter where it came from, now all that matters is that I want it to change.

I want a friend. I want a partner in crime. This mama is so tired of working so hard to make things work. I want ease. The flow of a river, the feel of being wrapped in my granny's quilt, not tornados and hurricanes that you have to pick up the pieces afterward and rebuild, rebuild, rebuild. I want the peace and contentment of that steel magnolia's smile.

Currently, I don't have time for a man, even a friendly one. I'm in massage school three nights a week, and once a month I drive to another state for 5 days to go to acupuncture school. During the days I'm raising my beasties, studying, and trying to get a Sassy Queenpin Mama business off the ground. But while I'm doing all these things I'm also trying to make room in my heart for the next man that comes my way, (and with me there's always a next one). I'm making my list of what I really want so when I see it in someone I'll be able to recognize it. I'll be able to look past the fact that he's not addicted, has a job, and is a grown up, and see a new kind of man. I'll be able to take the leap into Queenpin Mama trying to do things different.

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