EXCERPT – “THE LIST MAKERS”

My friends were determined to help me find a partner… through lists. Their favorite advice was to make a list: write down every quality I wanted, send my intentions into the Universe, and let it bring the right woman to me.
            
Their plan had potential.

But list making? It can be taken to extremes.
            
“Protect the list makers for they know not what they do.”  That would be my prayer for every list maker I have ever met.

The list makers in my life would invite me over, pour some wine, and insist I help them script their perfect partner into existence. Wish it, say it, write it, and poof! True love.
 
I wondered if that kind of conjuring could work for me too.
            
‘He has to be a minimum of four inches taller. A man I can look up to. Dark hair. Oh yes, dark hair. Heathcliffish. I love me a brooding man. At least a six-figure salary.’ I’ve heard this request, or as the requester likes to call it, “prayer,” from more than one straight female friend. This Prince Charming fantasy must be an endangered species due to the many women trying to manifest him.
            
And the queer girls are not much better.  “I need someone feminine. Much more feminine than me. I can’t live without feminine. Matter of fact, anything less than Sofía Vergara hot won’t do. I won’t be able to get arooooused,” they’d cry. I’ve heard this “princess” request from more buzz-cut butches in cargo pants with wallet chains than I can count. 

I reminded them that super “feminine” girls can be high maintenance. They won’t go camping with you. Won’t help you lift a couch or reprogram a remote. One buzz-cut Betty grinned like a Cheshire cat when I reminded her of this. “Counting on it!” 

“Okay, but don’t call me to complain when you’re trying to get out of the house in the morning and you have to wait while she steams her face and gives herself a platinum level facial.” 

I also met people who were happy with their spouses over a long period of time. They confessed that their partner didn’t match any item on their list. This taught me to throw out any expectations of traits, physical characteristics, life experiences, or achievements.   

I mean, general guidelines are good like no active drug addicts, alcoholics or rageaholics. But listing everything down to the last detail removes the magic of chemistry and serendipity.  Meeting the right person is all about the mystery. The magic you never saw coming.

It’s not a bad idea to list the most important trait you’d like your dream partner to have. I asked myself what would I write on every slot of my top five list if I could pick only one trait?  This was my bottom line. On my list it was kindness. The rest was up for negotiation. 

As time went on, I found myself moving in a direction that would horrify any metaphysician. I developed more bottom lines about what I wouldn’t accept and left the rest up to God or the Universe.  I pictured every positive thinking person screaming, “No!”

But as my best friend Sable reminded me, “If all of that stuff worked, Marianne Williamson wouldn’t still be single.”