The beautiful blindness of age 12

My friend Brian has this expression. When he's feeling low, it's a Platypus Day.

Let's face it: the platypus is the homeliest creature ever created. If you don't think God has a sense of humor, take a look at the platypus. A Platypus Day is when you just don't feel fit to face the world; when you cannot find your Best Self and would prefer to hide.

Truth be told, I've had a Platypus Life. It's been intersperced with Tigress Moments, or Dolphin Hours, but for the most part, it's been one Platypus Day after another. I've never felt pretty; I've never looked in the mirror and saw someone beautiful looking back. That's just me; it's what lives inside my mind. Don't get me wrong - I know I have a lot going for me. I'm smart, I'm funny, I make a mean cup of coffee. But when people meet me, they aren't drawn to the inherent beauty that drew them to, say, Audrey Heburn, or my friend Diane from college. No, when people meet me, they wait to see what's inside. Then they find out I'm funny and smart and I make a mean cup of coffee, and I instantly become Best Friend or Sister material. I'm not the kind of girl you date. I'm the kind of girl you play football with. And that's okay...I've accepted that, I understand it and I feel grateful for being the smart funny girl.

But the past week has been worse than most. I haven't been able to shake the feeling of utter ugliness. I've felt in the very core of who I am that, if only I could have been made pretty, I would be...I dunno, maybe not divorced, or maybe cherished, maybe even occasionally have a date. It's haunted me. It's the feeling I've cried myself to sleep to. It's dug its way into my soul and seems to have no intention of letting go.

And yet...last week, my family went to Great America. I wasn't there, so I can't tell the story to the greatest extent, but in a way it's my story so I'm gonna try. Kelly and Aimee were talking about a karaoke contest from earlier this summer. They were discussing the results and how it seemed odd the way we all placed - which, by the way, was not very well. As they talked, the subject was brought up that our friend Amber, the winner, may well have had an advantage because she's not only a great vocalist, but she's undeniably pretty. It's true. If I had a lesbian side, I'd be totally into her. The discussion continued a bit, and Aimee and Kelly referred to Amber as the prettiest one of all of "us".

And that's when my 12-year-old niece made my heart sing, even though I was nowhere near Gurnee. Aubri turned to her mother and said, "Nah-uh, Mom. I think Aunt Margot is the prettiest."

I don't care what anybody says, my niece thinks I'm pretty. I don't ever have to go on another date as long as I live. I don't need to feel bad that my husband left. I don't need to let anyone feel like I don't fit in. A 12-year-old girl with functioning eyes and a heart that won't quit thinks I'm pretty.

I could live on that until I'm 80.

I hope I don't have to, but still...

Combinations, both good and bad

The Good:

• chocolate and peanut butter


• (crunchy) peanut butter and jelly


• Antonio Banderas and tequila (oh shut up, it's my list)


• grilled cheese and Kelly


• spotted cows, Sunday breakfast and Brian


• comfortable walking shoes and Kevin


• "true story" and Dale


• pigs and saddlebags


• spoons and twin beds


• cute shoes and Kim


• summer and clean white sheets


• sleeping in and Me


• bare feet and Me


• sushi and Kirin...and Me


• llamas and Rice (see photo, right, of Rice, mini rice, and llama)


• beer and family visits


• beer and more beer


• bonfires and Skullcrusher Mountain
• jail and Paris Hilton

The Bad

• too much tequila and Me


• camping and technology


• liver and onions


• hell, liver and anything


• sleep and noise


• weddings and Elizabeth Taylor


• mustangs and hard tops


• fruity drinks and no little umbrella


• PCs and Me (gimme Mac or gimme death!)


• babies and Metallica


• toothpaste and orange juice

Memorable musings

Sometimes, people are nice. They say nice things. They do stuff just because it makes me smile. I wanted to record a couple of them.

About ten years ago, there was this guy who could make my toes curl with just a smile. I have a letter he wrote to me - the sweetest Dear Jane letter ever, in which he basically explained that our friendship couldn't continue because our past couldn't fit into his future. Here's what he wrote:

• "I think of you like a force of nature - you are like a sprite, a being not of this world, exiled like many of us from something or some place. Don't forget this; I never do. Thus comes the disquiet in my soul."

I rarely hear from him anymore, and each time I think of him it's sort of a bittersweet walk down memory lane. I suppose in some ways he'll always be my one that "got away."

But it's not as though that's the last nice thing that was said, so I thought I'd keep a record here of things people have said that bring a ray of light to my dark and twisty soul.

• "You know, there really is nothing sexier than a woman doing your dishes."
• "Sassy."
• "And yet, you're beautiful...especially when you don't think so."
• "He's stupid. And blind. And retarded."
• "And THAT's why he makes me mad - he made you feel like less than."
• "You were fun before the beer."
• "I like your hair like that. It's thick, and unruly...like you, but not the way that sounded."
• "Sorry, but it's not charming when you flip out when dinner doesn't turn out. It is, however, charming the way you have a level three nervous breakdown because you hurt a friend."
• "I'm not saying I'm right and you're wrong; I'm saying I'm right and you're cute."
• "No one else will ever be you and me."