M.I.A.

I'm at a "private reception" for a Candidate for Texas Governor. That in it of itself seems rather self-important. I know that I have no business- other than the fact that I'm the activist base- being there because I am in no way able to fund my own entry.
There are the usual elected democrats and the ones running that in the loop. I appreciate seeing some of the same people- I know that they support the party even after they've warmed their cute elected seat and recognize that giving back is important.
She's an elected Judge. I like her hair and I liked her stump speech and am glad to see that she's attending. She's a tall regal woman that clearly has been with her husband long enough that they do that thing that long time partnered couples do- they nearly look alike. She's walking and talking and sipping her Pinot Grigio and her husband is close- gathering a small plate of Brie and shrimp to share. It seemed- from where I was- supportive, equitable, impressively endearing when he politely motioned her away from a conversation when the reception honoree mentioned her presence. It was at this point that I noticed the phenomenal brown leather handbag- it had was a suede material with a single strap and a fabulous brass buckle that had a plush gather of material that seemed to say, "Hey, there's more money in here than you have in your account."
He was holding that handbag.
I have- on more than one occasion asked a friend, partner, passer-by to "hold this for just a sec, would you?" I know that there are times I carry my purse for reasons other than the custodian of my wallet. They are nice when it works as a weapon when forging through a crowded room and I'm jockeying for space. There are times when it works as a good wall to hide behind- you can't see that I came in late when I'm behind this purse. There are many functions behind the hand bag- not the least of which is a longer strap that's shouldered and pushed back always makes your butt look smaller.
This is my social/personal/intellectual burden to bare. When I'm ready- I'll leave it.
I want a partner, a bed cohort, a lover, a boyfriend, a husband, a mate- that would do this for me. I want what she has- a loving guide that holds her shit while she's working the room also there to be aware when she's unable.
I want it- knowing I would not ask.
Hold my hand and help me remember to leave put my purse in the trunk.
If, for no other reason, so we both have hands to hold a plate of Brie!

This entry was posted on Friday, February 03, 2006 at 9:13 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.