Friday, November 20, 2009
So the conflict begins. The public, high-brow fashion show is definitely the greater of the two evils I've outlined. What's wrong with a bunch of women gathering to eat salad and see the latest workout apparel? Well, everything. First of all, does it always have to be a salad? I guess so, because every time I've been served lunch with women, it's always salad. News flash: women like pizza, burgers and chili. I do love salad, too, but don't stereotype me and make assumptions, please.
So these uptight beauties have been primping and posing ALL WEEK. I know this, because I've seen them around the club. Walking, turning, pouting, straightening.....All of this in the name of NIKE? What a dreadful waste. I look at the show with such loathing and disdain. I feel my salad coming up my throat. Really. Why? Because if these gal pals of mine would just don a thong and a pair of pumps for about 90 seconds for their husbands (maybe add some lipstick, too), the pleasure factor would be OUT OF CONTROL. This, I know from experience.
I realize I'm not entitled to my feelings. It's really none of my business. But if you are reading this, you must be interested in my slinging, too. I have decided to become the cowardly voice of my swinging pals. Cowardly because I'm not able to be brave and public. So I say it's my business because they can call me a slut for wearing a low-cut top (behind my back, of course), but I can't tell them their whole problem is they care more what their girlfriends think than their husbands. Newsflash: your husband doesn't care half-as much about your imperfections than them women at your kids pre-school.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
I made some new friends. Among them, a recently divorced hot blond who clearly wanted to see what was under my J Crew tights. After yesterday's blog (about bringing home a random third party) I could see the wide window of opportunity for Jake & me. Just as I really considered a playful fishing line like, "Are you going to give me your number so we can make a playdate?", my daughter's classmate offered me another martini. Back to real world. This did not seem like the place to try new things.
I probably should have went for it, I think. Yes, I do think I'd like to give vanilla hunting a try. Haven't done it with a vein of seriousness. Any suggestions, friends?
Friday, November 13, 2009
The proposition is so mainstream now it's no longer taboo. Before Jake and I actually had threesomes -- which by the way, we've only had one -- I used to be so confused at his obsession with them. (I actually prefer foursomes -- I think it's because I'm Catholic and it's a throwback to the Noah's Ark days, two-by-two, in pairs....).
So my point is, you can have a threesome. You can have a whole bunch of different number-somes. You can plan to have them -- every last detail. Meet on-line, at a party, schedule a tryst at a hotel, or just find a "play room" and go to town. Yes, I do this (some of this). But I do it because I had never actually considered an old-fashioned threesome, before swinging was on the table.
I was so excited for "Cheryl" last night -- or women like Cheryl. Late 40's, working out, staying young, healthy. Thank GOD someone notices them! Not when she's half naked dancing on a stripper pole. Someone noticed her dressed in Banana Republic in daylight. How old-school sexy does this sound?
Sure, I can go out and feel sexy most of the time when I'm putting the energy out there. But rewind the clock, back to half-past monogamy. Would it be more of a charge to ask a hot gal-pal to join us in the sack for naive exploration? Just put it out there, raw and exposed, without any idea of consequences if she were to say yes because the territory is so fresh and new, in comparison to the intricacies of the "lifestyle."
I'll guess I'll never know, because I've crossed the line. I'm tainted and have to much to lose to try and taint someone working her True Religions at Starbucks.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
We're pretty selfish. But we're compassionate, empathetic, open people. We try and help the community, mostly at the holidays through food and gift donations. Throughout the year we are generous to Salvation Army, our housekeeper, our contractors. We have are neighbors over for cocktails and when they ask what they can bring, I rarely request. But I do think we're selfish overall because of the choices we make. We're doing the "live life to the fullest" thing. I contemplate whether we should, instead, help others fill their basic needs. Just because I believe we're in the norm, doesn't mean I think it's right. So, yes, I think I have reasonably established that (I think) we're selfish.
Vanity? You betcha. Botox, blowouts, skin-care, massages, trainers....It is an absolute priority. The lifestyle is about the only venue I can think of that really and truly appreciates these choices. I can't slice it any other way.
So here we are, vain and selfish, having great sex, wearing pleather, leather, metal and lace. After a decade of this, who's the show for? Seen it hundreds of times. While it's hot and sexy, wouldn't it be more erotic to include an audience...that participates? Sounds like a great argument to me. And I wasn't even trying to convince myself!!!!! I just thought I was demented.
Back on track. I don't know if I'm capable of bashing my choice. I'm too far down in the well to see why I'm not enough, because clearly, I'm not. Have I convinced myself that a life-long commitment is unreasonable? Maybe I will blame society and advertising for their covert-overt operation of pounding this idea into my psyche. What am I missing?
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
I was at, perhaps, one of the most painful bookclub meetings ever. The pinched up faces. Dry-clean white starched blouses. Stiff, forced and tight conversation. Fortunately, I was able to sit between two of my good friends and we were able to chit-chat about anything but the book, which I didn't manage to read. I'm sure you're wondering why I even went to the meeting. Well, so am I. I've decided all of the excuses I've made (it'll be good to make friends with similar interests (books), who live in the community (potential playmates for the kids...) are just that, excuses. Officially, for the second time, I have resigned my position of required reading with women in my age group.
So we were talking about Halloween, Facebook and teenage party dilemmas when my GOOD friend told me what she and a group of gals did the other night. Ready? They went on a searching-for-sex website, created an account and searched by geography to see if they knew anyone on the site. I had to keep all of my experience with this world to myself, of course. Which I've become a pro at. "Do they pay for sex?" "Do they show (instead of PROFILE or POST) photos?"
Is anyone else disturbed by this? I'm trying to define the problem, but maybe I don't understand it. On the outside, my friend is everything you would want in a friend -- she's smart, funny, silly, will go out with a half-hour notice. Her husband is good looking, a good conversationalist, and seems to really like his wife. I think this because I have seen them out together. She's so bored and maybe even filled with contempt, that she wants to catch her "friends" being naughty. For what purpose? Gossip? Judgement? I don't get it.
So, I took my pics down until I can shoot some more that are less defining.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Many of our friends fit this profile. They just can't see what they have. Or once had. Their vision is clouded by the sight of homework. Sick kids. A house that never seems clean enough. She turns to champagne and TiVo for stimulation. And I already told you where he is.
I want to get to the root of this plague so I can wipe it out. Jake and I find it so tough to mingle with this breed. Isn't the answer simple? It's not about sex. Well, maybe it is a little bit. I think it's more about....Never mind. It's definitely about sex. It's the one word solution? Maybe. I can't imagine that anyone would take on a partner that didn't at least once rock their world with just a kiss, a touch, or for the rest of us, a banging night of sex. It had to have happened for anyone to be together. I'll argue this point all day long.
What happens to cause people to lose this feeling? I had a communications class in college where I learned something I'll never ever forget. The professor told us that marriage is work. It's a full-time job. You can't come home from work and become your rude, lazy slobby self. You have to put as much work into your relationship as you do into your career. You can argue that true love shouldn't be work, it should come naturally. Just like childbirth, right?
What's the problem, friends? Where does the romance go?
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Who was I looking to satisfy? Satisfying Jake and satisfying Mimi are one in the same. Seriously. But are our needs the same? I don't think they are. If I give you a raw exposure of what's inside, lighting my fire it's all heart. My heart is the key to my sexuality. Can I sit at a bar identify a ripe specimen, make a connection, ignite the passion, give in to animal instincts, give, receive and call it success? There are two answers. Probably. And the other is, No.
I've met men at bars before. Men that rocked me in a way I thought was reserved for Hollywood scripting. Think Diane Lane in Unfaithful, bathroom scene. I've danced with men in clubs, felt their heated breath in my ear, felt their hard cock on my thigh. Like a vampire searching for sustinance, I just wanted a taste. But the circumstances were so different. Jake wasn't there. I was on a girl's trip. It was kind of like a big popularity contest. Men liked me. I drove them wild. Talk about an endorphin rush. I'm just not the girl who would go beyond the dance floor. My heart has been with Jake since I was 19 years old. I would never have a tryst without some type of involvement or input from him.
It's the whole concept of the secret. Sure, you need to have a few in your lifetime. But I've identified that it's far more sexy and solid to have shared secrets. I am my husband's secret. I want to keep it that way.
Flash forward to Vegas last week. I have the 'green light'. Find someone who rocks my world. Do what I please. I tried to take myself back a few years to that dirty desired feeling. It was so sexy for me to rub lotion on myself in my cosmopolitan hotel room thinking about Mr. Hot and Single. My heart and head had arrived at a mutual level of understanding. Here's what turns me on. First, Jake is my ultimate meter. If he thinks I'm hot, I am so turned on. I wonder if this is crazy. We've been together twenty years. The notion that I still drive him wild seems so far-fetched. Yet it's a reality. I get so much pleasure from seeing myself in his baby-blues. When he closes his eyes and dreams, I get to be the star. So what if I have a co-star?
I have all of these CONFLICTING theories of why I struck out searching on my own. The first is that it's not the players, it's me. Were my attempts half-hearted? Was I unapproachable? Yes, I did take off my wedding bands. But maybe there was a barrier up that I am just too close to see. I don't think this is the reason, however. I make friends with just about everyone who comes within eye contact with me. I am beyond friendly. I make a significant effort in everything I do.
Confidence? I could have used a little more, for sure. It's the whole "safety in numbers" concept. Maybe it works in the reverse, too. Maybe picking up a single is easier when you're armed with a group of companions. I'll have to explore this.
Jake and I went to a club that night and met a group of lifestylers. Ironically, there was a beautiful, single male in the mix. He was beautiful because he was polite, articulate, a great dancer and conversationalist. He was well-dressed and in great physical shape. We danced, laughed about our demanding high-maintenance puppies....and eventually said good-night.
Was I interested? No. He didn't do it for me. Just like when you are single looking for a potential mate, there's more to a match than 9-out-of-10 on the scorecard. I wasn't a fan of one-night stands then, and I don't think I am now. Connections are so special and rare. I have made one. I'm not convinced it's possible to make another.
Do I have the same high-standards when it comes to play? Kind of. We've played with a few couples over the past several years. How many? Less than 10. I'm not talking about party kissing & touching. I'm talking about making plans -- dating. We just don't do it regularly. All, or most of the variables need to be accounted for in order for us to share our intimacy.
So, am I done looking for that Single Male? Honestly, I don't know.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Aside from the obvious, physical dangers I could potentially invite (bodily harm, disease -- I'm not talking about H1N1), what's the mental damage we could suffer as a couple? Remember, we are very secure. That being said, what good can come of this? Should I open up to this experiment?
Let me know your opinion!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
After a few years of experimenting in this lifestyle, we are continuing to learn that this, too, has complexities we could never have anticipated. We've made judgements, mistakes, friends and fans. I never thought it would take so much introspection to come to where I am today.
Let me give you a glimpse. About five years ago we went to a Halloween party. It was one of our first lifestyle events. We had the most dynamic evening. The cast of characters couldn't have been better scripted. The pick-up-lines are so different than what we were used to from our dating days. "Are you guys full-swap?", "Can I borrow your wife?", "Is she bi?", "Do you guys want to get out of here and get naked in our room?"(at 9 p.m. -- we had just met them). We kind of liked the up-frontness. I think a lot of single people could learn from this directive. Imagine the time you could save if you were able to walk up to someone in a crowded bar and say "I just want sex tonight", or "I really need to be married and pregnant by the end of the year" or "Can we have breakfast in bed naked?". Of course I know you can say that, but it's not the expectation, as it sometimes is among life-stylers.
Back to the party. We met a couple we'd rate a total 10 that night. The were dressed as Jeannie & The Major. The chemistry between the four of us was immediate. We hadn't had a lot of experience in "group play" so when they invited us to a hotel room, we were very excited. When we got to the room, there were a few other couples dancing, drinking, making out and more. So we went with the heat of the moment. We played it safe, standing in the corner. The kissing and touching between the four of us took me back to that place in my early twenties with a new lover. I was weak in the knees and giddy. Jake was touching me in the same way he has for over a decade, but I saw him through "Jeannie's" eyes. It was an amazing reinforcement. Jake is hot. Of course I knew this, but seeing him in this environment being mentally and physically devoured by beautiful women was a turn-on for me that I hadn't anticipated.
Things got out of hand. Players were coming out of the woodwork and closing in on us. I was being violated. I started to freak out. We went back to our hotel room. Had amazing sex. Laughed about the night. Laughed even harder about the night our neighbors were having by the BBQ. Men on one side planning their golf outings. Women on the other, talking about going shopping. Glad we side-stepped that one.
So last night we met up with some sexy new friends at a rocking party. The party was in a home that appeared to be built for the purpose of hosting these type of parties. Think multiple levels with couples flirting, dancing and more. We were definitely in a playful mood and there was a strong connection. One where endorphins and a host of other feel-good chemicals mix with the Belvedere Vodka. Its an amazing feeling to connect with another couple or single female and to get the natural high that flirtation and attraction can set off. This is one of the reasons so many are probably attracted to cheating on their partner. The lifestyle creates the feeling that often times hasn't been experienced since dating. It gives you that rush of excitement that feeling wanted and attracted to someone new can provide. On so many levels it becomes a drug of choice that can be addicting. We had the opportunity to take things to the next level at the party. We didn't take it for the same reason we left the Halloween Party five years ago. The venue wasn't special enough and there were too many spectators and people letting their raw primal instincts cloud their judgement. So we went home alone. And I'm trying to find a sitter again........
Saturday, October 10, 2009
We were invited to an intimate Tantra Party in a beautiful setting. Candles, chocolate, wine, feathers, blindfolds. It was our first experience with Tantra. Thanks to Sting, at least we had heard of the ancient religious, philosophical practice involving the body. Naturally, our curiosity was piqued.
Jake and I were both very excited and open to the idea that even after 20 years of being together, we could learn new techniques to pleasure each other. At first, we were so giggly I thought we were going to have to be separated. He whispered that we're too much like brother and sister. I think it was the heat of his breath in my ear that helped me to focus enough to call sensual Mimi to the occasion.
We played together. We played with other partners. We tried many different exercises focused on taking your time. Having Patience. What's the Hurry?
I was a perfect student until about 2 a.m. I couldn't stop thinking about the next day and what I had planned. I have a family, remember? Last night Jake and I gave ourselves a luxurious gift of eight hours of eroticism together. Sorry, folks. I think that's all I've got. Could I have done a better job with practicing patience? I had the best of intentions. I actually put my watch on as we were walking out the door to leave. I thought it would be better if I didn't have access to tangibles such as time. But on second thought, that didn't seem like a realistic expectation for Mimi.
At the close of the date, I felt a little like Debbie Downer. "We have to go." I'd like to be the girl that can stay. Until noon. But that's why I'm conflicted. And home in bed with my puppy planning a day with my family. I like the balance. I just hate interrupting the moment.
Friday, October 9, 2009
From my mom's eyes, I am a total mess. Sure, I'm fun to be with. But "my poor husband," "he deserves better." I should make more of an effort to be a better "housewife."
This morning I asked her to drive my kids to school and she said she had to take a full-shower (hair washed, curled) and also apply make-up (foundation up). I am shuttering to think about these wacked out priorities!!!
Here's my fear. I do not want to live in a box and be boring (like my sweet mother). She is so consumed with taking care of us, she's lost all perspective on the dynamic person she has buried inside of her. I am sure she and my dad have Suburban Sex (how gross is that thought?).
So, I'm going to blame her for my indiscrepancies. Which I wouldn't label them that, by the way. I'll lump her in with society for such a term.
Here's how my day is going to go today. I'm going to eat ultra lean & healthy today. Get my nails done. Take a nap. Shower & blow-dry later in the day so I will be fresh for my big night out. Pre-pack a "party bag." We've got a Tantra party we are going to, so I'll be packing a different outfit to change into as well as some sexy toys. Lots of preparation. It won't be worth the effort if I am exhausted.
So, instead of Jake coming home to apple streudel (okay, my mom did make this for him last night), he'll be coming home to sexy, shaven, manicured Mimi. Ready to party. Everybody wins. It takes effort to keep the spark ignited. It's not just about living inside of your house and making it a home (although this is important, too).
I see so many women forget that a marriage is supposed to be meaningful and rewarding. It's the ultimate relationship. I've said before, even if you are unhappy in your marriage, there was a time when you had hormones flaring. It's essential to remember the steps you took to keep the flame burning. It's about sexy. We should never become too old or consumed to cater to that side of ourselves. It's a gift we give to ourselves as well as our mate.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Most of us have the same basic philosophies. Put out good, get good in return (karma). We can't all get along because we have such different ideas on how to put good out there. And we try so hard. But obstacles prevent us from spreading the love.
Life in Suburbia has limitless frustrations, especially for a stay-at-home parent. I call my routine "moving from pile to pile." I wish the mail only came one day per week. I have been cooking the same five meals for the past two decades. I'm trying to write this blog and help my daughter with her Spanish homework. And keep dinner from burning. After Jake gets home, I'll need to serve dinner, do the dishes, make sure the kids get showered and to bed on time. I also need to flip the wash, put away the laundry and....you get the idea. A whole bunch of repetitive tasks.
At the end of the year, I don't get an evaluation slating me for significant promotion. I only get a raise if Jake does. I could easily be fired (ha ha). There is so much monotony. Did I mention I am a chauffeur for my kids many after school activities?
All of this minutia and on top of it, I call my quest towards self-maintenance and personal grooming full-time work. Botox, fillers, hair extensions, pilates, tennis, hiking, kayaking, teeth whitening, waxing, laser hair remover, fruit acid peels......I need an assistant to keep myself on track. Oh, I am the assistant. So it's a lot of work just being vanilla. Why add the sexy risque multi-partner play dimension?
On a pro-swinger day I will argue that I like having a secret. I like being someone else's secret. I adore being my own husband's secret. It's something the average married couple can't understand unless they experience it. Sadly, it's something they will all judge with such venom and hatred.
Here's what I want to share with my friends without ties to the lifestyle. Every action I've been involved in has been of my own consent. And Jake has been there (well, one time he wasn't, but he ENCOURAGED me to go). Some events have been regretful. But you have to move on from those. Just as you do from an ugly neighborhood confrontation involving the height of your neighbor's fence or a confrontation with your best friend about her weight. You should have kept your mouth (legs?) shut. And you regret it. Same feelings.
I'm going to go deep here. Some vanillas I know have had affairs. Definition: secret sex outside the marriage. These partners stray for one reason or another and seek comfort or passion elsewhere. It happens in every neighborhood, in every school. It's hard on the community. We generally feel for one of the parties. And often, we hope they can work it out and get back on track. Whether they do or don't generally doesn't evoke much change in our day to day activities with this couple trying to hold it together. Behind closed doors we'll call one of them an ass. But that's pretty much the extent of it. Our kids can still play at their house and when it's over, it's pretty much forgotten.
The ramifications of lifestyle exposure are so much more severe. The community treats swingers like lepers with STD's. There is no forgiveness. There is embarrassment. And shame. But why? This couple has decided to stray beyond the marriage TOGETHER. And come home together. Who cares what studies say. The odds of them staying together can't be any worse than the 50% divorce rate of a typical marriage.
So what I am trying to say is don't judge anyone. You don't need to walk a mile in their shoes. Just make sure your own are the right size.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Frankly, I have always thought women are beautiful. I remember being in third grade at my neighbors house with my brother and several of his friends looking through the pages of Playboy. I knew it was naughty. But I had never seen a beautiful, naked woman before. I was as intrigued as the boys were. I couldn't take my eyes off of the pages.
The emotions sparked by the girlie-magazines were quite different than when I experienced my first orgasm. I just confessed this to Jake last week. It wasn't while looking at naked women. It was in the movie theatre watching Tom Cruise in Risky Business.
I've always been a girl's girl. Love shopping. Haircare. Nailpolish. Fashion. Gossip. But have I ever closed my eyes and fantasized about being with a woman? No.
Here's my revelation. The thought that rocked my own world. It's a thread that I'm weaving not only through my blog, but in my own life. Sexy doesn't have a gender. It's about so many things that are both tangible and intangible. Chemistry, personality, sense of humor, skin, being comfortable in your skin and looking good in your skin. Essentials.
The night I met Isabel, I found all of these essentials wrapped up in one beautiful person. Inside & out. I met her at a lifestyle party. Immediately I was drawn to her. She radiated an energy of passion, warmth and sensuality. I wanted to get crazy with her. She has that Carrie Bradshaw quality every girl looks for in a best friend. Gorgeous, silly, confident.
Nothing materialized at the party. We didn't even exchange phone numbers until I ran into her almost a year later. When our paths crossed again, we immediately made a date.....
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
I clearly see the woman in this role because I have bit my lip once or twice before as well. When Jake come home from work, some days I am tired. By 8 a.m. I've fed the dog, fed the kids (breakfast & lunch) and chauffered everyone off to begin their days. I'm already tired. And I have dishes to do. And I have decisions to make all day that seem really unimportant. What kind of pebble do you want for the landscaping? What are we having for dinner? Should we really be paying $250 per month for cable?
Don't even get me started on how exhausting the obligatory small talk is that I'm required to make at least a few days a week. More with the piano lessons, lacrosse, personal basketball coaches......new market. Organic produce.
What I'm trying to say is that at 10:00 p.m., I don't always want to have sex. I'd like to sit in silence in head-to-toe flannel watching "The Hills."
So of course, some nights, I do choose the remote control over the pocket-rocket. But most nights I want to win the battle over exhaustion. I want to harness the power I get inside from knowing that I am the woman that rocks my husbands world. Isn't that the spark that prompts "suburban sex' in the first place? He wants sex. From me. This makes me sexy. Who wouldn't wake up from a coma to feel sexy?
Instead, exaustion wins out in many of these perfectly appointed suburban homes. She goes to bed shortly after saying goodnight to the kids. She pretends to be sleeping when he enters the room. But really, she is tense from head to toe because she knows tonight's the night. He'll give her "the tap." She'll lie there on her back. Quite. Bored. Making to-do lists in her head. Then, relieved that the next six nights she'll be in the clear.
Many of these women laying there in silence are good friends of mine. They're not evil, man-haters. They're just lost in this game and have lost sight of what's important. I want to give them advice. Here are some principles I try and live by. Not only for my husband. But for me.
1. You must take care of yourself. This means at least 4 days a week, you have to wear something you charged at Nordstroms. Instead of waiting for a special occasion. Just look your best, most of the time. Pretend you are going out, even if you are not. This will give you energy because you will feel like you have purpose.
2. Initiate Sex. Don't just give in. Even if you don't want it, if tonight is the night, own it. Control it. There's no bigger turn on for your spouse than feeling wanted and sexy.
3. You married him. There was at least a brief period of time when you couldn't keep your hands off him. Take yourself there. If that doesn't work, you can always picture Matthew McConaughey.
4. Stop telling him what to do. And how much to drink, or not to drink. Appreciate what he does. Seriously. There has to be something.
5. Take a nap. Really. Sleep is the answer to most problems. Not money. Get enough of what you can control.
How about you, Mr. ESPN. I've really taken you out of the hot seat with this to-do list for the Mrs. What is your top 5? I should ask Jake to post this, because I am lucky he does more than I could. I'll see if I can get him a guest author spot.
Monday, September 28, 2009
We went about our Sunday best described by Will Farrell in Old School -- Bed, Bath and Beyond, Home Depot and then an afternoon doubles match at the club.
I woke up early this morning to host a Book Club breakfast for twenty women. I changed my outfit six times. We sat and discussed "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn." It was very lovely. I had "big girl" decorations, like custom-made floral arrangements, champagne mimosas, rented china and crystal.
It made Saturday night's festivities seem so easy and effortless. I packed my tiny skirt, killer patent-leather pumps, and all of my MAC paintpots. Pretty simple. We forgot to pack toothpaste, so we bought some at Walgreen's.
What I'm trying to say is that I think all work and no play makes Mimi a dull girl. After my brunch this morning I had to take a two-hour nap (I did break my own rule and have FOUR mimosa's, but they were really small).
So we're still in.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
First, we started the evening off at a boutique hotel where we began the evening with....a nap! Then, Jake set up photo equipment so I can get some shots posted on this template of a website. Fast forward to dinner, espresso and an interesting taxi ride.
I think the reason we enjoy the parties so much is that we see friendly, familiar faces. The vibe was playful and energetic, with women in tiny tiny plaid skirts sucking on lolli-pops gyrating to hip-hop with a back-drop of pole-dancing professionals and amateurs who looked pretty professional to me.
So what's a blog with out either intrigue, controversy or complication? Here it comes. The dynamics of the "swinging crowd" are very complex. It's like dating. Remember dating as a single? One person searching for a single companion. Now, we have two people occasionally torn on whether they are looking for one, two, or even four companions. Which makes the connection factor exponentially more impossible to find.
Here's a random sample equation. Take us, Mimi and Jake. First off, we can't exactly clarify what the "x" is in our a + b = x equation. Do we want a couple? Do we want a single female? I'm pretty certain at least one of us prefers a couple. The couple must: like each other, have a great sense of humor, and yes, they must both be attractive. And, we can't get the vibe that they want to "divide and conquer." We have found a plethora of just what I have described. What we have difficulty finding is those criteria and CHEMISTRY. We've tried to make it work on looks alone. I think the bottom line is there are so many people we have met that we'd love to have Sunday BBQs with, but maybe not in our hot tub naked.
I think when you've found your soulmate, it's hard to put another "number" into the equation. So why bother? Why not just have Sunday BBQs and maul each other afterwards? Because variety is the spice of life, I guess.
Whoops...I forgot to stick in the part of the evening where Jake and I had the kind of sex a "gentleman" on a business trip might pay for in several large bills.....I even got to have breakfast in bed afterwards.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Personally, I do enjoy a cocktail or two when I go out. I try and stick to the three-drink maximum, spaced one hour apart with a glass of water in between. Is it the edge that I want to take out, or the excuse I want to invite? Maybe a bit of both.
There have been many nights I have been in "training" to come up with the perfect drink equation. Anything more than three drinks on my tiny frame turns me into a lot of fun.....and a sloppy mess. I've had nights drinking shot after shot. My recollection of these evenings are that of a hazy rock video involving cage dancing, girl-on-girl make-out scenes, smeared mascara and smiling men.
Here's the irony. I've had better times drinking only Red Bull. These times have had me in precarious positions as well....imagine outfit changes, outfit swapping, 7-inch platforms, sex toys, porn and multiple players. The bonus for Jake and me is that in the morning we are only tired from lack of sleep, not hung over. And, we get to reminisce on all the intimate details. Reminiscing is so much better than filling in the blanks.
Monday, September 21, 2009
I know, you probably want to get more of a visual than an introspective. I have to be careful for obvious reasons. But, make no mistake, not only do I take excellent care of myself, I am also well taken care of. I am full of energy and life. It's because I take care of myself physically with regular work-outs and also have an atypical mental health profile as well. I am vivacious and happy. I radiate these characteristics internally and draw others in like a magnet.
So, if you are trying to paint a physical picture, think Kelly Ripa.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Let me outline how the night typically plays out. It's a Saturday night and I've got a sitter coming. I'm wearing a sexy brown velour BCBG dress I just bought at Nordstrom's. It's perfect because while it shows off my cleavage (34D), it hits the knee. I have to be careful not to show both bare legs & cleavage. One or the other, less I want to be called a slut. Again, the only reason I care in this crowd is because parents of my children's friends will be there.
We have arranged seating at the Country Club. I'm not overly concerned about the small talk because I'm sitting with some rather entertaining characters. My friend Gwen loves Gin & Tonic. She drinks so much EVERY time she goes out that we can always expect her best "Elaine" dance moves (Seinfeld reference). Tonight, she announced to the table that she'd be right back after she found a "fucking tampon." I couldn't script that, honestly.
And then, there's beautiful Leah. She has a new best friend about every two years because she generally gets "dumped" after their husbands become too fond of her. She dances like there's an invisible cage around her. I've seen her in more guy-girl-guy/girl-guy-girl sandwiches than I can count. Jake always says she's a shot away from a threesome. I suspect she's already had that shot, but not when in the same town as her husband.
Both Leah and Gwen have interesting mates. Or should I say keepers? watchers? Their husbands monitor their drinks, their curfews on girls nights, insist on turtlenecks. Yeah, there's a lot of CONFLICT. I guess it's everywhere.
I could go on and on painting the human landscape, but it's pretty repetitive. Picture's the same corner to corner. Diane Von Furstenberg here, Gucci there. Misery everywhere. Everyone is conflicted.
The conflict these "vanilla" friends of mine face is at home. In my opinion, this is the worst place to have a conflict. Someone wants to be the life of the party. Someone wants to be the supressor. I guess you could argue they're the Yin to the other's Yang. I only see the product as tortured people who fight all of the time and make each other miserable.
In a nutshell, it's at these "vanilla" parties where you get the best glimpse of conflicted couples. I'm conflicted too....right? "Mimi Conflicted"
My conflict is imposed by society. And me. I am supressing myself for society. I'm "me." And the other "me" so that I can continue to exist in the awkward. Makes no sense when I put it like this. If you are in the lifestyle and have kids, I suspect it makes complete sense. If you are not, I will continue to try and get you to understand.
OMG! I forgot to tell about the terrible thing that happened to me that night. I was walking back to my table from the ladies room when three women walked by me and very obviously looked at my cleavage, POINTED, and said "nice dress" and threw themselves into fits of giggles. It was the first time in my adult life I was truly mortified. Okay, maybe not the first. But it was a rare emotion to experience in what Jake referred to as my "Holly Hobby" dress (he likes me to bare as much skin as legally permitted.) Here's another conflict. Who am I supposed to please when I go out? Jake, or the societal influences? Do I know the answer?
Friday, September 18, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
So I call myself "Mimi" because there are two sides of "me". The "me" that everyone knows and loves. The good daughter, mother, wife, neighbor......the boring list goes on. This is the "me" you see at the Country Club head-to-toe in my tennis gear, head-band wearing, dinner-party throwing Buffy next-door. I will volunteer at my child's (private) school any day of the week, walk your dog, watch your two-year old while you take a spin class. I'll even make you dinner if you come down with the flu. I am a good girl.
I'm a smart girl, too. I went to private schools, graduated from college with a Bachelor's Degree. I'm book smart, meaning I know how to pass a test. But even better, I'm street smart. I know how to pull off a good cover-up. It started in high school. I learned how to throw a successful party at my parent's house weekend after weekend without getting caught. It was just innocent drinking and fooling around. Nonetheless, it was against the rules.
It's important for you to understand that I have both versions of "me" in my core. I want to be good. Most of the time. What I don't want to be is boring.
I think I should have started the blog with "It started with body-shots of my recently pierced navel on the bar at my friend's restaurant." But that's so obvious. Reluctantly I will admit that I am a rule-breaker. This is different than a law-breaker. It's important to make this distinction. I am a non-traditionalist. I refuse to let society dictate how I will spend both my days & nights. Here's the caveat. I have kids. I don't want them to suffer for my lack of conformity. Hence, I will continue to put up a believable facade so they are not judged by the narrowminded personas running the social circles of the youths in the suburbs.
The person who gets both sides of "Mimi" is my husband of nearly 20 years. I'll refer to him as "Jake." So what happens when you take a good girl with a very wild side and put her with a man with the sex-drive of a 17-year old? You certainly don't get a couple who is sustained on small-talk consisting of the neighbor's vintage Cabernet collection, or "mikey's" private basketball coach.
Next Posting: The First Party