Beautiful

It’s not very often that I feel beautiful. I seem to have
left beauty at the doorstep of my collection of 5’9’’
blonde blue eyed California Cousins who each
weighed in at 120 pounds.

I remember hearing about them regularly in the
seventh grade. I peered into my height challenged,
round faced, brunette frown bearing reflection
in the mirror poised 3,000 miles east of California.

Beauty – Me. Beauty – Me. In the words of the
“Lost in Space” robot “Does not compute,
Will Robinson.”

My cousins – beautiful.  Me? Less than ordinary.

It's intriguing to see how that belief has been
all pervasive and to see how it impacted the
choices I made.

I got married too young, before I explored my
sensuality or my beauty or my consciousness
for that matter.

I thought, “You date, you live together, you
get married.”  I didn’t know how to deviate
from the course or extricate myself when
I knew in my gut this was not the
path to take.

I remember within a week of meeting Ken
he told me I “looked goofy” when I was
dancing robustly with my friends
Mel and Tom.

My response, catalogued, “I look goofy
when I dance” so I didn’t dance much after that.
I looked beautiful, I was told, or at least presentable,
when I did exactly what was expected of me.

Be the nice, sweet, generic girl. Be polite, retiring,
amusing, well read enough to converse but
not threaten…. There, the perfect generic girl.

Fast forward through heart ache, struggle,
awakening and more awakening and still
more awakening.

I found myself alone at the Junction this weekend,
my favorite karaoke bar filled with eclectic people
and a respectable sound system.  I was alone
and free to sing.

All of a sudden there seemed to be a shift in the
Junction’s Collective Unconscious.  Somehow
generic, less-than-ordinary me had become… I
am not sure….

Well, first a drunk man approached me and
said something like, “Good looking’ you’re making
me crazy sitting there” (beer talk, yeah recognize it!)
so I smiled politely and listened to the music.

I struck up a conversation with an attractive man,
30ish, give or take, who was sitting a stool away
from me. He had lip synched some lyrics in
my direction so we began to talk.

I paused and listened to a woman singing
“Black Velvet” and noticed a number of
women were dancing alone.  Off I went,
slithering off my stool and onto the dance
floor – for the first time ever dancing on
purpose by myself.

I danced right into the zone. It felt amazing.

Later I walked across the room and the
Security Guard intercepted me. I have known
him as an acquaintance for a while.

“Hey – I haven’t seen you here lately” he said.
I responded and then he said, with a growl
in his voice I might add, “You look
ravishing tonight.”

Ravishing? That’s quite a compliment.

Wow. Ok, I smiled and kept moving.

A few minutes later a man slid into the seat
next to mine. He looked like the older brother
of the formerly ubiquitous Marlboro Man,
complete with Wranglers, Cowboy boots
and a smile that lit up the room.

“Hi, I am Larry, may I sit here?”

Who was I, Generic Girl, to say no to the
hunky Marlboro Man clone?

“What would you like me to sing, a little
Tim McGraw?” (Country is not my thing, I
know more about Tug McGraw then Tim
McGraw).  “I know” Larry continued, “How
about a little John Michael Montgomery?”

“Oh, yes” I said, having no clue what John
Michael Montgomery sang but liking the name,
“Sing John Michael Montgomery.”

I didn’t know it, but Larry could sing. Yes,
he could sing.  All the women in the Junction
were melting into a collective Larry
induced puddle.

We talked about Celtic music and drums
hitting you in the heart. We got up and
danced together – perfectly joining one
another’s rhythm. This was VERY fun, I
thought to myself.

Generic Girl wasn’t feeling so
Generic anymore.

I was ravishing and I had Larry’s
complete attention.

Hmmm. Interesting.

And it was time to go home – I had
stuff to do.

“Nice to meet you, Larry.” I offered my hand,
shook his warmly and left.

I woke up the next day and took Buttercup
and Hank out for their usual walk. I was
feeling good – and as we walked along the
Panorama bluffs a man on a motorcycle
saw me and kept looking – smiling – and
looking – and smiling.

I think I actually said, “What is up with this?!”
outloud before I just started laughing.

Generic Girl?

No.

Beautiful.