Take my husband, PLEASE!

Bukowski tells a tale of a stud that could not mate with a mare because she was "too attractive". The handlers had to lather the mare with mud to entice the arrogant stud into mating. The point of the story published in "South of No North", was that the stud was intimidated by the mares beauty. And it was not until he believed that she was uglier than him, that he felt confident enough to perform. I always remembered that story as an interesting insight into the male psyche.

The other nite i engaged Mr. M in the always dreaded instantly regrettable, "who would you rather" conversation. He begrudgingly participated and was a good sport about it; going into the pros and cons while carefully weighing his options (within the realm of the game and otherwise).Then i chimed in with my usual narcissistic-all consuming-insecurities. He replied, "why do you always have to make everything about you?" Needless to say, that was the end of the game, and i never did find out if he preferred Bijou Phillips or Donna Pinciotti.

I later apologized for ruining the game and i explain that i was not trying to make it all about me, that in the big picture i did not care about the outcome of the game. I simply felt suddenly insecure. Insecurities born in every woman who have ever watched t.v, opened a fashion magazine, had a class with THAT hot chick. It made me question if having a "hot body" was an important component for his ideal woman. He was right, i did make it all about me and about how i measured up to what i imagined his ideals of a "perfect" woman to be. I asked him, "would you like me more if i had a hot body?" he said no. i suspiciously suspected otherwise, when his follow-up response brought complacent contentment. He said, "if you were really hot i would be happy, but i would worry. right now i am just really happy, and this is better." When he said that i remembered that old song about being happy for the rest of your life by Jimmy Soul:

...A pretty woman makes her husband look small
And very often causes his downfall

As soon as he marries her, then she starts

Doin' the things that will break his heart

But if you make an ugly woman your wife
You'll be happy for the rest of your life

An ugly woman cooks your meals on time
An she'll always give you peace of mind...

Its a clever song that takes me back to The Buk's story. It became abundantly clear to me that women really don't know what men want, nor do we fully understand them: MEN. Rather than dwell on the "whatifs" i am gonna let myself feel pretty and loved and accepted just the way i am; as a muddy mare, although i rarely have a meal made on time.