What Should I have Done?

Timing!  I really disappointed my husband last night.  We were a straighter-than-thou party where I had the twins totally covered up, yet still managed to have strangers approach me and praise my (new) Mock-Stripper Couture platforms.  Funny how I invite this type of commentary.  I stood there in  my new Banana Republic Sweater Dress among the Chanel and Sapphire crowd and held my own.

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?

Mimi & Jake are off to Vegas

This'll be short and sweet because I am trying to physically and mentally prepare for our trip.  I am taking a poll.  I'm open to trying new things all day long.  What's the repercussion's I can't anticipate to live out Jake's fantasy:  For me to pick up a single male and unleash my sexual prowess.  He's made no stipulations; I can find the willing party at the pool by myself or at a night club with Jake as a voyeur.

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!

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.

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?

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