Little She: A Review of Patti's New Memoir

Patrick Dennis' Little Me is a brilliant mockery of that beloved literary tradition, the celebrity memoir.  It's loaded with the faux humility, grandeur, maudlin sentimentality and self delusion that make some memoirs so intriguing, addictive, and unintentionally hilarious.  And it's heroine is the dubiously talented star of stage and screen, Belle Poitrine, who clawed, back stabbed, seduced, and married her way to fame and fortune.  Of course, Belle never writes any of this down in plain speak, but it's there to read between the lines.  And once you've read it, Little Me keeps ahold you.  Now, every time I open a memoir I ask myself, "is this a book written with self awareness, humility, and candor? Or am I about to read a Belle Poitrine special?" Because if I am, I put on my "bullshit detectors" and read away.  I'm very happy to say I had my B.S.Ds close at hand when I was ready to dig in to Patti LuPone: A Memoir.

But first, a disclaimer:  I adore Patti LuPone's work as an actress and singer.  The soundtrack to Evita is amazing, largely because of her incredible vocal performance.  Her appearance in Driving Miss Daisy was a highlight in an already overwhelmingly wonderful film, and her appearances in Anything Goes, Les Miserables, and most recently, Gypsy, are legendary, and she was THE reason to watch Life Goes On.  But her controversial behavior is also legendary, and while I sympathize with a lot of the struggles she's gone through, as a narrator of her life, she is anything but reliable.

I read the first seventy pages of her life story wishing I had a more trustworthy source to reference, because it seems just a little to rosy and sunwashed in tone to be completely accurate.  But according to Patti she was just one of many hard working actors destined for the stage, who succeeded because of the guidance of her mentors, sheer determination, and a belief in herself.  And she suffered...a lot.  It seems like every instructor at Julliard was gunning for young Patti, and I'd love to hear the story behind that story, or to learn what really went down in her relationship and subsequent break-up with Kevin Kline.  But it wasn't to be found here.  Intriguing.

The juice begins on Chapter 5 "The Baker's Wife, or Hitler's Road Show" and flows through to the end.  So if you make it through to page 73, take heart, because the rest of it is worth the wait.  The Baker's Wife is a notorious Broadway flop who's song "Meadowlark" (the only thing worth remembering in an otherwise unrememarkable show) was cut by the producer for a time, as it was considered too long and was believed to slow the show, and Patti will tell you all about it.  She'll also tell you how horrible it was to work with Topol, and later, Paul Sorvino.  She'll even discuss the vocal issues she struggled with after The Baker's Wife closed and she took on the role of Evita, and the less than enthusiastic reviews she initially received for her performance before going on to win the Tony.  She'll discuss the joys of working with David Mamet, and the horrors of working with Andrew Lloyd Webber.  (Side note-  I believe almost everything she says in these chapters and frankly think she was robbed of a great role and a great opportunity.  Glenn Close was a caricature in comparison to what Patti was attempting with the part).  Of course, some of her grievances are petty and small in relation to the majority of career struggles, but it's still riveting to read them.  Her description of her experience at the 1988 Tony's is priceless..." 'And the 1988 Tony Award goes to...Joanna Gleason for Into The Woods!' I sat there and watched Joanna pick up her award.  During her acceptance speech, I felt like I was having a flashback on an acid trip.  She looked like the tin man from The Wizard of Oz.  What happened?  I was supposed to win!  It was a bad night for me."  Missing from this memoir???  Any mention of the notorious night during Gypsy when she stopped the show to berate an audience member who was taking pictures.

Over all, it's a satisfying memoir with plenty of backstage dirt that answers a lot of long pondered questions and those who love Patti will be very, very, happy.  It's also delusional enough, and vengeful enough, and high toned enough to get it an 8 out of 10 on the Belle Poitrine Scale of Greatness.

Top Divas, #6... and why gays REALLY love our divas

6.  Miss Piggy

She's fierce, determined, extremely confident, a fighter, she is all the grande dames of the theatre bundled up in to one compact little package.  And like any great star, she started out as a minor character and rose to the ranks of cult icon.  She pays tribute to all the great female archetypes at the same time lampooning them.  She proclaims herself to be the greatest star all the while, she grimly acknowledges her physical inadequacies.  She leaps into every great female role ever created, be it Scarlett in "Gone With the Wind", Cleopatra, or Joan of Arc.  She begs, demands, struts, coyly flirts and climbs to the top, over countless bodies, if she must.  But she's not all toughness.  She has a very tender and a surprisingly vulnerable side.  She is the cliche of the soul who's great bravado masks her deep insecurities, which one can only expect from the underdog that she is.  I mean, who would expect a pig from her humble beginnings to win the love of her life, great fame, and personal contentment?  She wills it so, with brutality, humor, and panache.

I was one of many young boys who saw her and instantly fell in awe.  People wonder why we love those great women like Judy, Bette, Barbra, Liza.  I think it's because we appreciate their immense talent and admire the way they reached those heights without the benefits of great physical beauty.  What they had went deeper, but just was just as worthy, more worthy, than the obvious beauty.  Not that these women weren't physically beautiful, but it sometimes took a closer look to see.  And once seen, complemented by those inner gifts, everyone who sees it realizes this is the real thing, more deserving of appreciation than the cookie cutter mold.

As a soft, more artistic, "sensitive" boys growing up in the world we, most of us, realize we will never be the kind of man our fathers want us to be.  We don't fit the accepted mold. We have talents, but not the kind that is considered fit for men.  We have flair, creativity, sensitivity, open emotions.  But what can we do with those gifts that are often seen as liabilities by those who's approval we want to win?  And then we see these women in similar circumstances.  Women who didn't fit the mold that men expected them to.  They had obstacles to overcome, but overcame them because they had something more than that beauty.  A gift that a lot of  men would love to deny because they couldn't mash it down or denigrate it as a commodity for their personal use like they could with physical beauty.  They were feminists all, the great divas.  They make it well known that they are as good as any man, by proclaiming, not that their gifts are the same as the patriarch, but uniquely theirs and equal to any man's.  And as a kid growing up who related to their gifts more than those of the straight man, I took faith in their fight to be heard.  They seemed to be saying to me that their successes and rewards could be mine if I only had faith in my own unique strengths.  Strengths that I might be the only one to see for the time being. 

We don't relate to Garland because her life was rough and our lives are rough.  That story is just another way to keep us down.  The idea that we related to her weaknesses and love to exalt in them, to wallow in them.  No.  We relate to her because she is overcame great odds to rise to great heights.  There was something deep inside her that she didn't always believe in, but that was apparent to everyone who met her.  It dragged you toward her.  And I'm not talking about her voice, but her strength of spirit, her absolute willingness to expose her open veins and emote authentically about her full experience of life.  She sang about things people don't always want to hear about.  It's that power of self expression as well as the immense instrument that allowed it that make us love her.  Her fall from grace only reminds us that such self expression and naked sincerity can come with great cost and if you truly want to follow the diva's path you may have to pay a heavy price.  However, that price may very well be one you are willing to pay for the reward of artistic and personal fulfillment.

And isn't it ironic that such an icon as Miss Piggy stemmed from the minds of men.  Starting out as kind of a joke on women, she evolved into a fully realized, three dimensional character in spite of what they saw her as initially, she had her own ideas.  The art that was the character proclaimed to her makers that she was something more, as much as the character itself proclaimed this to her fellow muppets.   And soon the artists were under the control of their art as much as she was under theirs.   Now that's a diva.

Top Ten Divas, # 7

7.  Lily Tomlin



She's created the iconic characters Edith Ann, Trudy the bag lady, Judith Beasely and Ernestine Tomlin and  performs them in a completely committed style that is uniquely her own.  Her work is always poignant, and challenging, usually cutting through the bullshit and getting right to the truth. She's equally at home with the broadly painted characters as she is with the protagonists she's played that need a lighter touch.  Her partnership with Jane Wagner is one of the most successful marriages of two artists to date, and even now it's hard to know which work was Lily's and which was Jane's.

I always loved her on Sesame Street when she would appear as Edith Ann in that over sized chair and even then, knew Edith Ann was someone on the edge, thumbing her nose at society at a time when I was simply trying to follow the rules. As I got older I listened to her comedy albums and they activated my imagination, much in the way the old radio dramas I loved did. Of course I loved her in "9 to 5", and "Big Business", and "A Prairie Home Companion".

But it was her show "The Search For Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe" that won my complete devotion. I splurged on tickets in the sixth row and wasn't quite sure what to expect.  I mean she was in her sixties and had been performing the show since the eighties.  Could it, and she,  still be fresh and relevant?  As the first act was coming to a close and she was embodying  the character of a lost thirteen year old girl performing in a coffee house,  it felt as if she'd looked right inside me and was using my personal soul content to voice all my fear and uncertainty and powerlessness.I not only had the "goose bump experience" that the show mentions, but I had tears freely flowing down my face.  It was so cathartic and healing, and the show wasn't even near it's resolution yet.  I vowed never to see it again, nor would I watch the filmed version, because I knew that what I'd just seen was as good as I would get.

The Day Off

I took the day off today, which was much needed.  It started around 9 AM with breakfast tacos at Torchy's on William Cannon, outside under an umbrella.  I opened Moss Hart's "Act One" and devoured one of the chapters as I ate.  The people at the table next to me were from New York, early arrivals for ACL which begins this weekend.  I'd kind of forgotten that ACL's arrival meant sharing the town for a week with everyone who also think Austin is a delightful place to be this time of year.  It's the latest ACL has been in awhile, so I'm hoping the weather will be nice for them, as much as I hope the lawn at Zilker Park won't get mangled and muddied.  Somehow, though, no matter what city officials say, the lawn still gets destroyed.  I've never been to ACL, as I'm not into most of the music there, but I have a feeling if I actually jumped in and went I'd have an amazing time.  Maybe...

After breakfast I drove to that area just off the corner of 360 and the entrance to South Mopac.  I always pass it by and wonder what's there.  I know it's an entrance to the green belt, another place I've never been, and have always thought "someday", but today was the day.  And it was so peaceful. 

It's lovely to get away to a place that feels like it's miles away from everything even though it's nestled right in town.  I wandered down to the creek, sat for awhile, walked some more, and now I'm sitting in a Starbucks.  I'm devoting today to writing, to reading, to meditation (or meditative activities) and cleaning.  These are days that I think I'll love when I allow myself them, but when I actually have them it's tempting to misspend them and mope around, wondering why I'm doing this alone. 

But today!  Today is for me!  I'm going to do what I want.  I'm going to treat myself.  I'm going to make a list and complete it and I'm going to finish it off with friends watching Project Runway.  Out of the house, out with people, all good things in one blessed day.  It's gonna happen.  So here's my day as planned. 

1.  Twelve to twelve thirty, work on my current play.
2.  South Congress for lunch at the mighty cone and then a wander through Uncommon Objects.
3.  Pick up a kitty litter scoop at Petco (aren't you glad to know that?)
4.  Do laundry and clean for one hour.
5.  Vacuum.
6.  Shred old papers and mail.
7.  Work out at the gym.
8.  Head to Susan's for PR.
9.  Choose and iron clothes for work tomorrow.

I resolve to complete this list of things and proclaim this day-off a complete success!

Top Ten Divas, #8

8. Liza Minnelli

Like many people, I discovered Liza through the movie "Cabaret".  I think I was thirteen, and my exposure to homosexuality was slight.  I knew it was bohemian and slightly sinful, but it was a foreign land to me still, one I didn't want to visit.  And then I saw Liza in this movie, watched the scenes with Sally and Brian and Maximilian rambling the streets and laughing, and even I knew something was going on between them that wasn't being said outright.  And when they get to that scene in the car when Brian, tired of the complexities of this triumvirate says "Screw Maximilian", Sally responds "I do" and he finishes the conversation with "so do I"...an alarm went off.  Just a faint ping, but it was there.

But mostly, I remember Liza.  Her recklessness, her languid sexuality,  her cockeyed optimism...  It's that abandon, that need to give full out and make all of it (even the sad parts) sparkle with the light of a thousand sequins in your eyes, that encapsulates Liza Minnelli for me.  There's no shame in her.  She'll shimmy, kick, flail, open that mouth wide and let it all out in the name of giving a good show.  It doesn't have to be pretty, it just has to be full out committed, and it always is  The clip above captures perfectly her gift for building a scene through song and her for taking the audience on a journey so we'll believe everything she does even when it strays into the territory of "over the top".  She's the poster child for dreaming big, and I always listen to her when I want to perk up my spirits or hear that voice in my ear saying "Yes, you can."

Top Ten Divas, # 9

9.  Gracie Allen

Her comedic timing is impeccable, her delivery is understated and sincere, and her innocence is bewitching.  The legend is that when she and George Burns joined forces in the 20's she was the "straight man" until he realized her set-ups were getting more laughs than his punch lines.  She was the Queen of the publicity stunt long before Lady Gaga, and ran for President representing the "Surprise Party", showing up unannounced on radio programs looking for her supposedly missing brother, and performing the "Concerto for Index Finger" at Carnegie Hall and The Hollywood Bowl, as well as in the film "Two Girls and A Sailor" (seen above).  She also co-starred with George in a television sitcom in the fifties, which is how I was first introduced to her.  I would watch it late at night in re-runs, soothed by the thought that the world that was sometimes so mixed up and confused could make someone like her. Later I collected episodes of the radio show from which the sitcom originated and I would listen to them as I fell asleep at night, comforted by here presence, her humor, and her skill.

My Top Ten Divas, #10

When I was a kid growing up, looking for heroes, I didn't find them where people expected me to.  Or, I should say, the heroes I found were not the ones most adults hoped I would find.  When I was five I loved watching Batman re-runs on t.v, but not because of Batman, or even Robin.  I loved them because of Catwoman.  She was wicked, she was in control (though it was the kind of control I didn't understand yet) and she was incredibly graceful.  I wanted to be her.  But I knew there was something dishonorable about it.  I knew I shouldn't tell people that.  So when I was running around the playground at pre-school and I threw open the chain link gate and it flew back in my face and busted my lip, I told the teacher that I was pretending to be Batman and not Julie Newmar.

As I got older I continued to love and admire women more than the men.  And as I got older I became less and less apologetic about it.  I was thirteen when I started admitting I cared more about Judy Garland than I did "The Dead Kennedy's", and it was pretty freeing.   And so now, I unapologetically, and loudly proclaim my top-ten divas.  The ones I love most, who may not always fit the term in the expected sense of the word (they're not all singers, not all particularly well-known anymore, nor are they all even human) but they are iconic representations of the many sides of what it means to be fierce, emotional, open, honest, and talented.  If you have thoughts, comments, or disagree, please post them, because I'd love to hear what you have to say...

                                  10.  Wonder Woman

Specifically, Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman.  When I was a kid I would watch her on television in awe.  And every time it was time for Diana Prince to become Wonder Woman I would spin around with her, living vicariously through her.  I never doubted that she would do the right thing, never questioned whether or not she would succeed.  I had an unwavering faith in her, and simply watched the show to see how stylishly she would achieve her goal.  It never seemed odd to me that she was always the one rescuing Steve Trevor, rather than the other way around.  Too often in movies and television today, if the protagonist is a woman, she will need rescuing in one way or another, from a man.  But not Wonder Woman.  And I think, because she embodied so many characteristics we think of as mannish and masculine, people accepted it.  She had all the assertiveness, strength and determination that were considered steretyplically male, but with the nurturing and intuitive, balanced heart we think of as feminine.  And that juxtaposition of the masculine and the feminine, plus her untouchable goodness, that oddly robotic demeanor touched with maternal warmth and her overstated curves packed into that proudly patriotic costume make her my number ten. 

The Gentleman Caller (Part Two)

My gentleman caller contacted me Saturday to let me know he was coming to the show that night and bringing a friend with him.   Fortunately, it was our biggest house so far, the energy in the cast was at a peak.  Everyone waiting in the lobby seemed to really enjoy the show and a lot of the theatre community had showed up, so it was great to have so many friends to hug and receive kudos from before I greeted the guy who could conceivably have been completely turned off by having just seen me in that outfit, doing my thing. 

When I finally was able to get to him, he didn't seem bothered by it at all.  He was his usual, quiet self, but he said he liked the show and was a little overwhelmed as he always is when he sees good theatre.  Not wanting the evening to end so quickly with him I mentioned that I needed to get to a friend's birthday party later,  but we could grab a drink if they were up for it.  We hung out at Vivo's for awhile and eventually my GC said- "Well, I really want you to make it to your friend's party tonight, so why don't we all head over to my place and take it from there."  His logic was VERY questionable , of course, but I wanted to be alone with him for a little bit, so I said yes and we drove down.  Upon arrival at the house, his friend made a quick exit, and then we were alone.

And then, as we were settling down on the couch and nestling into each other, he threw a wrench into my fun.  Something about getting out of a long term relationship very recently and not wanting me to be a rebound, so I should keep my emotions in check.  Now I ask you, why do men do this?  Over think a situation, start to worry about where things might go, and try to alleviate themselves of any guilt they might feel if they turn out not to want much more than a night or two of this?  Not only did it suck a lot of the fun out of the situation, but it put me on edge and I quickly erected the great wall of China around my heart (which, once it's up is incredibly hard to break down). 

The rest of the evening was fine, but I will say there's something slightly intimidating about making out with someone as fit and muscular as he was.  There's no place to find a soft spot at all, and I'm kind of fond of those fleshy parts which make us all feel human.  Plus, his physical near perfection made me more conscious of my own imperfections.

He called the next day and it was just a touch awkward because of a certain conversational interaction I won't share here that caused me to realize our senses of humor might not be a match.  That might sound like a small thing, but sense of humor, the ability to laugh at the same things is crucial to me in any relationship.  Plus, that seed of doubt got planted is disconcerting...but we'll see.  It's too early too worry about it now, so I'm just going to enjoy the attention.

The Gentleman Caller (Part one)

We had our best show so far on Friday and I largely credit the email we received from our director which said amongst many kudos and thanks for our performances, to keep playing and not to be attached to old bits or ways we've performed certain lines in the past.  It made a lot of sense to me, and I think it's one of the reasons Saturday and Sundays shows felt kind of shitty.  I was relying on the past and giving a good presentational performance, but the life and vibrance...I'll admit I hadn't really been in it those two shows.  And one of the reasons I think I was holding back is because I have a fear of and a tendency to overplay things and I worry about overwhelming the audience (not in a good way). 

Aside from the performance, there were other nice surprises last night...

I'd been at a mixer downtown on Thursday and met a very sweet, soft spoken guy.  He was a little shorter than me, but at 6 foot 3, who isn't shorter than me.  He was slender, an easy smiler, and cute as a button.  When I saw my friend Tyler chatting with him in a circle of people I took the chance to slip in.  We chatted for awhile and I learned a few things.  He's spiritual, comfortable in his sexuality, opinionated, but kind, earnest, and he felt...safe.  I couldn't tell if he was into me or not, as he didn't exactly follow me around the room.  But when my friends were heading across the street I mentioned to him that we'd be at "Rain" and he could join if he wanted to later. 

He showed up about fifteen minutes later.  And while he didn't stay long, we exchanged numbers, and texted that night.  I'll freely admit I was the one who texted him.  I took the fact that he'd followed us to Rain and asked for my number as a good sign, and I didn't want to let a possible connection fizzle out.

He called twice the next day, and when I called him back and mentioned that I was on my way to a performance, he seemed a little more interested in it than I'd planned.  "Where is it" he asked.  "At the Vortex".  He knew the theatre and lives not too far from it.  "Do they serve alcohol at the theatre?" he asked.  "Yes," I said, trying to hide the anxiety from my tone.  "I could maybe use a drink.  I think I'll come."  Good God, I thought.  Not yet.  Let me have a little time to give you a real impression of me before you see me in chicken drag.

Let's clarify some things.  I'm not a drag queen.  I don't play out, do shows, parades, lipsynch, etc.  but I have played a handful of females and get a real kick out of it.  It allows me to live for awhile in the souls of the movie heroines I've adored since childhood.  It's something I do well, and it let's me be free and let loose.  I don't have to worry about being too feminine for the role, because that IS the role.  And these women are SUPPOSED to be larger than life so my tendency to overplay doesn't usually pose a problem.  That said, I hope that I make them more than just camp figures, because I try to really get inside them and express their full range of emotions.  They're not just clowns, but also vessels for the audiences sorrow.   Because when these women are sorrowful they are REALLY sorrowful. 

I explained to him the part I was playing, a chicken complete with glitter and big fake eyelashes and a headdress.  I might have downplayed the bustle, and the skirt and the heels...and he said he wasn't at all bothered by it as long as I wouldn't be uncomfortable.  With that said, I admitted that "no".  It wouldn't make me uncomfortable.  I guess I figured that if he wasn't going to accept me for this, then it was good to know it now, when I have very little investment in his acceptance.  It was a relief actually, because the issue was going to be addressed without my really having to do it.  He had a business meeting at 7, but hoped to make it by 8.  He wanted to make his business meeting short, so it shouldn't be a problem...

He showed up at 8:35, knocking on the box office door.  My friend Amelia came back and told me he was out there.  Now, our show is only and hour and fifteen minutes at most, and I didn't want him to get such a small piece of the show so Amelia went and told him not to worry about it, but he felt bad for being late, and needed to get something to eat, so he waited at the restaurant across the street until the show was over and I texted him that we could still get a drink after the show, so I texted him when we got out and we went to get pizza.  To his credit, he had no problems coming out with the cast later, and theatre people can be a bit overwhelming to someone who isn't one of them.  But he did great and was very sweet.  He made me a little nervous, but in the way I'm used to.  All men I find attractive make me a little nervous and unfortunately I've never been very good at hiding that fact.

Later at his car, we held each other, kissed a little, and it was nice.  There's something about a man's stubble against my cheek that never fails to thrill.  It's funny though, because even at night, when there's no one around, I'm always on guard a little bit-worried that someone might see us kissing and "take issue" with it.  But no one did, of course, and I ended the night driving home in a happy haze.

The reviews keep coming...

"Milkmilklemonade" is in it's second weekend and it's been a really rewarding process so far.  I feel like I'm still growing in the role and having a blast doing it.  The reviews have been really flattering, and here are a few more. 

The first two are from the local papers and the third is a link to reviews by members of the Greater Austin Creative Alliance.   And one of the reviews calls me sexy, so you KNOW it must be true...

http://www.austin360.com/blogs/content/shared-gen/blogs/austin/seeingthings/entries/2010/09/15/review_milkmilklemonade.html?cxntfid=blogs_austin_arts_seeing_things

http://www.austinchronicle.com/gyrobase/Issue/review?oid=oid%3A1083947

http://www.nowplayingaustin.com/event/detail/440859531/MilkMilk_Lemonade

Request to the Universe

I've heard it said that to get what you want, you have to ask for it.  And in that spirit, I'm placing an order with the universe.  Something I've never really done before.  I mean, I'm looking for Mr. Right, so it's time to really put the request out there.  To give it out to the world and let it go, trusting that the order is already "being filled", as it were.  I mean if you don't ask, you can't get, right?
Dear God/Universe:

       The following is my request, made with an open and seeking heart, trusting that you hear me and that you who blesses me every day in so many ways, expected and unexpected, seen and unseen, have already sent the answer my way.  Please send me a mate who...

1.  When he walks into a room he brings joy in with him.

2.  He is positive, upbeat and caring.

3.  He loves children and animals and wants both.

4.  He appreciates the arts and admires those that create.

5.  He still looks at the world with wonder and sees the possibility.

6.  He has a car.

7.  He is outgoing and socially active.

8.  He reads.  A lot. 

9.  He has a pure heart.

10.  He believes in God and his faith is important to him.

11.  He is not a republican.

12.  He is out of the closet.

13.  He accepts my love of showtunes, Judy Garland, and mid-century pop music, and appreciates this music, too.

14.  He has a gentle manner.

15.  He smells wonderful.

16.  He is expressive of his emotions.

17.  He is unguarded and unjaded by the world with a sense of innocence about him.

18.  He loves roadtrips and unexpected adventures.

19.  He likes to get out and do things, not just movies, but street festivals, museums, antique stores, candle factories.

20.  He has soft lips.

21.  We light up when we see each other.

22.  He can tolerate cold weather.

23.  He loves people.

24.  He is creative.

25.  He is balanced in his feminine and masculine sides.

26.  He's politically active.

27.  He believes that everyone has a right to participate in the world and for their voice to be heard.

28.  He sometimes cries at movies.

29.  He has a good sense of direction.

30.  He's good with technology.

31.  He fights for what is right.

32.  He's loyal. 

33.  He's not ashamed to be naked.

34.  He's goal oriented.

35.  He gets along with my parents, but understands if I don't always.

36.  He's passionate.

37.  He's full of zeal.

38.  He loves and appreciates me just as I am, fluctuating weight and neuroses about it, and all.

39.  He supports all my artistic endeavors.

40.  He has a social life that does not need to include me.

41.  He's not allergic to, and loves my cat.

42.  He's good at sharing.

43.  He's relatively fit.

44.  He loves to travel.

45.  He's great at talking me down when I start to imagine the worst.

46.  He's honest.

47.  He laughs at my jokes.

48.  He holds my hand in public.

49.  He's a seeker.

50.  He has beautiful eyes.

51.  He's good with money.

52.  He's a great cook.

53.  He loves to do little thoughtful things for me, and loves it when I reciprocate.

54.  He's full of light, and hope.

55.  He's socially adept.

56.  He's perceptive.

57.  He appreciates the beauty of nature.

58.  He loves to go camping and hiking.

59.  He's a non-smoker.

60.  He has a strong sense of whimsy and doesn't care what people say about him.

61.  He loves Disneyland.

62.  He has a strong spiritual side.

63.  He is open.

64.  He is completely and undeniably, physically and emotionally attracted to me and unafraid to communicate that.

65.  He will sit with me and watch old movies or repeats of "I Love Lucy".

66.  He is monogamous.

Most of those physical preferences that change with the wind, I leave them up to you.    I will try to be patient.  I trust that this prayer is already answered.  And I will work hard for this relationship as I know that every successful relationship takes trust and open, honest communication, and work.