As we go through this constant tug of war on the playground of marriage we often find one or both or us falling into the woodchips with rope burns, splinters, and skinned knees.
A couple days ago my husband and I went to a function together to support a friend. Although the dress was casual, I chose a black knee length high waisted skirt, a floral sheer blouse embroidered with a pattern which mirrors that vintage colonial wallpaper of south china sea cranes and lotus flowers, and an adjustable faux black leather belt. I hot rolled my hair until it simmered and found the most natural light to start working on my dinvinci skills. After painting my face on I shimmied my suntan nylons up which involoved some leverage from my canopy bed. Finally, I tossled my hair for a quick dip to zip my knee high black boots. Stood in the light to ask my husband if my makeup was even and then he says, "yeah. But, I dont know why you are so worried about it. Most people are going to wear jeans." Then I retaliated with, "well fine I'll change," so I started to slowly unzip my skirt. "What? No, no, no, you spent all that time besides we are late anyways." Not even a glance. Ok...so I pretty much put on my tightest skirt to show off my best asset and I got "you're going to feel out of place" and "dont change though because we are going to be late." What can a woman do to get a guy excited? Answer...well at least my answer was a guy whose gender preference was in question resulting in a jealous quarrel.
Yup, that's the story. We went to the function and I worked the runway from the dinning room table to the powder room hoping for a skeeze to check me out in front of my husband. (Now that I look back I wonder how many thought I had a bladder control issue.) At the end of the night, I thought I had hooked a freshwater 18 year old but, apparently my husband told me my far sight might be going. As we are driving away he proceeded to tell me the boy I had hoped was getting him jealous was in fact having a man crush with the guy sitting next to me...ugh my husband. The 15 minute ride home was a broken record, "no he was looking at me" with occassional elevations in tone. Finally, he hits me with "Babe I got incredible Gaydar" and after the whole burlesque burn out I believed him. Knowing all to well working in retail business and modeling, I guess he had more experience. What is that anyway? Like is their a magnetic field that draws and repels comparing to sexual preference. I must be standing next to polarized metal. Well, our jealousies of one pubeescent still waiting for a chest hair, complimented with a lazy eye ignited the fuse by sufficing our egos. What's worse my husband later told me that he was just enjoying running against my campaign of self indulgence. He just wanted to rile me up! What is up with men and chalkboards. He just keeps sharpening his talons on that green piece of slate! I will let him win this one but, just to make it clear the kid was so looking at me. The next morning I felt that tingling sensation that reminded me how much it bothered me. Somehow that white filament "mine" lacked that polished white varnish I'd hope for.
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