Wednesday, September 30, 2009

How a Straight Girl Can Have a Hot Girlfriend

I haven't given away too many details of my trysts, yet.  Mostly because there have only been a few, honestly.  I'm not one of those "all talk, no show" girls.  But I'm not the town pump, either.  So, in future posts, I'll spill some details of where I fall in the spectrum.  But tonight, I want to talk about my girlfriend.  I decided to call her Isabel.  Which she said she likes.

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

Suburban Sex. What is it? Who's having it?

Sex.  Suburban, mission style sex.  It's killing good, respectable marriages.  It's a term I've coined to name the act many women my age engage in about once a week.  These women are repulsed by their husbands.  And vice versa.  On the one hand, you have a man who plays slave to ESPN and Hustler Club.  On the other, you have a woman who stays silent so she can have the big house, nanny, SUV, etc.  It's a business relationship, rather than a relationship.

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 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

What keeps Pulling Mimi back into the Lifestyle

Officially, we were out.  Again.  Like a whore after a walk of shame home from the fraternity house on Sunday morning, we drove home from the city and thought we should invest time and money in other pursuits.  Like mountainbiking.  And golf.  And (more) tennis.

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

Did I Say I Was a Swinger? Maybe I am more of a Mock Swinger.....

Jake cautioned me last night about the blog.  He said that we're probably not the dictionary version of swingers.  So, I wanted to put out a clarification blog to let you all know (if  you didn't already guess), we are just a step beyond bystanders in the Lifestyle.  We are so intrigued.  Yet, something is keeping us from jumping in the pool and swimming underwater with our eyes wide open.....Does this make sense to anyone else?

School Girls Gone Wild.....

One of my favorite parties of the year is the School Girl Party.  Something about putting plaid with pleather and rhinestones is so defiant, and so sexy.  There was definitely no Yin and Yang factor for Jake and I last night.  We did the entire evening in a sultry way.

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

Blame it on the Alcohol, or Not?

Talking about parties, here's an interesting topic sure to polarize the readers.  To drink or not to drink?  Let's start with one drink.  It's almost mandatory, unless or course you are the designated driver.  Anytime I have been out and not in the mood for alcohol, I am used to being bombarded with the "what's wrong" question -- are you sick?  pregnant?  I've learned to avoid this question by having soda water with a lime.

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

How Can You Spot Me in a Crowd?

What about me says "Swinger?"  Hopefully, I cloak it well.  But, I have been told that I have one of those bubbly-connector type of personalities.  I tend to like most people and vice versa.  On the inside, I have a heart of gold.

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

Parties (2) - In the Middle (or "Vanilla")

Yesterday I attempted to outline the types of parties a Suburban Wife/Mother must endure.  Tonight, I'll take on events those in the "lifestyle" refer to as "vanilla."  I also call them "middle" parties because they're not quite stiff as the mandatory gatherings and certainly not as (overtly) "free" as the parties I've been to on the dark side.  You're dying for me to get right to the swinger parties, right?  Build-up is everything (as is foreplay).  So, patience please.

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

Parties....three kinds

There are three kinds of parties in my world. The first is the most common. It's for the straights, or no-funs. The people who frequent these parties generally hate their spouses, jobs, kids, kid's teachers, neighbors, and the list continues. By suburban law, we are obligated to attend these and succomb to the boring conversations revolving around homework, landscaping, business travel, and cleaning products. Fortunately, tension is often mediated by talk of a new restaurant or vacation destination.

So it sounds awful, right? Well, truth be told, it is and it isn't. Many of these people are deep-down good to the core. They are hospitable, intelligent and conflicted. Just like me (dare I say "us"?). They are so burdened by trying to keep up the facade they forget what their own personal idea of fun is. It's like one of my favorite movie's "Fight Club" -- they no longer own their possessions, their possessions own them. Not just tangible things either. A good friend recently nailed it. She said people treat their kids like sports cars -- things to display for others to covet.

In a nutshell, the parties are mandatory if you care about your kids. You can't just skip it all. If you have kids, you get it. If not, I think I need to create another blog to explain how it all works.

I'll have to get into the second kind of party tomorrow. These are the parties where many of the couples really want to dance in their panties but can only do it if they can blame it on the alcohol.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Swinger.....How it all began.

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