I’m digging the show Swingtown, the new CBS series about swingers that gives you everything but the swinging! COME ON! It’s like someone brought me to a Las Vegas buffet but I can only smell the food. Or someone plopped me into the middle of a fancy dress shop but I can’t fit any of the clothes. Which is more of a real life scenario than bloggy analogy, sadly. But even with that egregious error, I tune in so every Thursday I can ask my husband questions like, “Do you wish I was your age so we could discuss where we were during the Bicentennial?”
I can see how cliche this show can be: a couple gets all freaky deeky and formerly secure wife now experiences the WHAT DID I DO? epiphany whenever her husband even breathes in the direction of another woman. But maybe I’m so desperate for something good on TV that even stock characters with predictable dilemmas are appealing to me.
This jealousy on screen makes me think about the early days of my relationship with Mike. We started dating when I was 19 and my relationship baggage was packed with afterschool special jealousy and frantic communication via phone, pager and ICQ (does anyone even remember ICQ?). I dated this one guy who would point out the skankiness of my clothes or how I never returned his pages quickly enough. And after that relationship fizzled, I thought that was how relationships functioned–with tearful pleas, whywere you talking to him/her accusations, and other exhaustive bull.
But I’m 25 now, with a son and a career and I can firmly say that my husband isn’t going to leave me for Beyonce. But man, if Beyonce were into Mike, I would totally give the green light as long as he tells me what she looks like without her weave.
Also, I’ve turned what would be jealous moments into comedic gems. There are some moments when Mike will reveal something and I take that sacred information and throw it in his face whenever I can. Like, once he said that Geraldine Ferraro was HOT when she was running for president, but I didn’t listen to the qualifier and instead heard only SHE and HOT and since then, whenever Geraldine Ferraro is running her crazy old lady mouth on the morning news, I have to run and shake my husband awake, saying, “Honey! Your favorite person in the world is on the news! Do you want me to get you some tissue and hand lotion?”