If I close my eyes and wish real hard.....

Do you ever look at one of your friends and just wish, for one moment, you had something of theirs?  I’m not talking about jealousy – this is different.  This is that one trait, feature or thing that you just know would be fabulous to call your own. 

I can definitely rattle off a few things that I covet:

V’s hair.  She has bouncin’ and behavin’ hair.  It’s fucking perfect and she married into a family where we all have Jewish wire hair that is totally weather dependent. The hair gods play evil tricks on us to ensure it never looks the same way twice. Just woke up? I look like Medusa and V, well she can have her picture taken and it post it on Facebook with pride. Just out of the ocean? I need to wear some type of hair containment device and V gets that tousled ocean hair that folks pay big money for. Bitch. And I mean that in the kindest and most loving way.

S or E’s figure.  My friends S & E have these amazingly long lean bodies. They both rock bikini’s after having children and seem to have free reign to eat what they want.  I don’t even need to go on here, do I?  I’d hate them if they weren’t so damn nice.

M’s patience.  Oh.My.God. My Big Susan M is one of the most patient people around.  I’m a yeller – it’s no secret. Hell, half my neighborhood probably knows when I’m mad at my mini-me.  Yet, it’s like M constantly channels those parenting books that talk about not raising your voice.  She tells me she yells and I suppose I should believe her. But then how do I explain when I raised my voice at her daughter once (safety issue folks, don’t get all weird) and her mini-M promptly burst into tears. I don’t think she ever heard anyone speak to her with, well, volume.

J’s house. My friend J has a rockin’ house. It’s gorgeous with an amazing view and a dream kitchen.  I’ve done holiday dinners, birthday parties, play dates and just plain old visits over there. And, every time, I re-decorate it as it were mine. In my head.

P’s spirituality.  I’ve long admired P’s commitment to living the kind of life that makes a Rabbi kvell but my recent crisis of faith has brought that to the forefront.  She has always embraced our religion - its rites and rituals are simply the foundation of her family’s life.  I’m likely too selfish or too lazy to do that at an equal level but I so admire the faith she has and the comfort she finds in it.

S & S’s craftiness & do-it-yourself abilities.  These two just piss me off. One can take a simple craft and turn it into a moneymaker. She wields a glue gun better than Martha Stewart.  The other can manage just about any home do-it-yourself project there is – hardwood floors, new bathroom, finish a basement, tile floors – you name it and this bastard does it better than most. Their attention to detail is amazing. Now, if I can only get him to address that little detail of sending me the nightstands he promised me two years ago. 

My sister D’s feet. I know, feet, yuck right? D has beautiful feet (no, I don’t have a fetish) that look gorgeous in every kind of shoe. Those really trendy strappy sandals? My feet look like sausages trussed up for cooking yet D slips those on like they were made for her.  Ballet flats? D truly glides wearing those and I look like I’m wearing boats. She can score at virtually any shoe sale or outlet. This annoys me tremendously.

My work friend S’s desk. It’s not that it’s bigger or better but it’s way tidier and way more organized. I work with a pile management system. S has a nice (very large) to-do list that on which she can track any conversation or task (it totally helps that she can read her own handwriting – I, uh, can’t.) Ever. I try to be this organized and fail miserably. Every damn time.

T’s ability to wear high heels all day long. And walk in them like a normal human being for the entire time. I am not able to do either. Damn her.

R’s paycheck (and I’m shallow enough to admit it.) Just once and just for one day (seriously, I could do enough damage in one day.) To feel what it’s like. Just imagining it makes me giggle.

Now, I know that I will never have any of these things and I can live with that. Still, it’s a damn good thing I have an excellent imagination.