Pages

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Babies in Ballgowns

Happy Wednesday, wombats.

I have been a wee bit absent on account of everything in the Stork house taking place in January:
  • Bub turned 34 on the 5th.
  • Tomorrow we've been together 9 years (eep).  Don't worry - this involves a slap on the back and a 'good on you for not killing me yet'.
  • I turn 31 on the 17th. Vomit.  Is it me or does 32 somehow sound younger than 31?
For his birthday Bub got a few movies, a fancy shmancy sound system for the living room (according to him  it was a tragedy we didn't have this before) and an electric blanket.

This morning as I awoke under the heat of the fabulous new electric blanket, I flashed back to 5th grade sex ed class.  Towards the end, everyone was given an index card to anonymously ask an embarrassing question and pass it to the front for the teacher to answer.  The only question I remember was "What happens when you have a wet dream on an electric blanket?

This led to Bub & I attempting to review our sex ed terminology.  Not the silly words like 'embryo' and 'fertilization' but the important ones like 'dirty sanchez' and 'rusty trombone'.  You know, all the shit you'd never want to do in a million years but inexplicably has a brilliant yet disgusting name.

This is what 8 years and 364 days looks like.  This is love, people.

And while we're on the subject of love, and I am in my safe space of no judgement (okay, judge me a little - I do) I should say that I am tickled pink that the Bachelor is back on television.



C'mon, people.  It is the very definition of love.  When Shakespeare wrote of love surely he meant being followed by camera crews.  And getting wasted while dressed like a Miss America contestant. And leaning over many-a-balcony crying and looking thoughtful. And I, for one, believe that his writing would have been so much better if he very inauthentically replaced every other word with the word "journey". And if he referred to every scene location - whether it be a town, a house, a broom closet, or floating on a war torn iceberg - as 'the perfect place to fall in love'.

(Oh and on the subject of sex ed and reality television - fucking becomes innocently making love as long as you do it in a 'fantasy suite').

While I may not like the idea of an impending birthday wherein my neighboring years will officially all be in their 30s, in Bachelor years I believe I am 12 years old.  Nothing is quite as sickly satisfying as seeing a woman with crows feet, frown lines and all the foundation and concealer available in North America get out of a limousine in a bridal gown with the number "25" floating beneath her ridiculously spelled name.

Believe me, as an infertile I understand that some situations are most accurately described as 'journeys'.  I thought that sex minus condom equaled baby, however through my passing years I'm putting more distance between myself and the ridiculous reality of that idea working for some people.  It's a journey.  I get it.  Every time I think I'm getting closer to babyland I find out I'm not even halfway to Mordor and there's 40,000 new terms and creatures with oddly shaped feet I have to learn about before getting there.  I think we can all agree, however, that we need another word - any other word - to describe a process other than 'journey', just to mix it up.  I also think we can all agree that people need to stop singing Journey songs a-cappella.

As Kali and I were watching the premiere and being catty via text message, it occurred to us that this show has been on long enough that there was a point where we could watch it and think "look at these older broads going out and wrangling themselves a husband".  Now it is a mix of women who are clearly pushing 40 and lying about it (honestly if I went on this show, I would say I was 50 - that way people at home would think 'she looks awesome' instead of 'What. Happened.') and babies in ballgowns.

If my daughter were to tell me, at 24 years old, that she was going to go on TV and share a man with 24 other women, I would only approve if this were a business decision as a means to launch her porn career.

Now granted, if you're doing the math, I met Bub when I was 21.. which now seems ludicrously young.  And I married him when I was 24 (!). I take some solace in the fact that I was only drunk in a fancy gown once, and that was on my wedding day.


If you think about it, you could name all reality shows Babies in Ballgowns by default, and for 90% of them it would be a completely accurate description.  The Bachelor, check.

Real Housewives of hell, grown women having 3 year old tantrums while wearing ball gowns, check. (I don't understand this particular brand of person... wherein as a woman your goal is to become a plastic nightmare, and as a man your goal is to become successful enough to reward yourself with a plastic nightmare.  Like a corvette.  Or a fancy toupe. Men, please just wear a hat, drive a nice-enough car and marry a pretty-but-worth-something wife.  Stop the madness).

Or worse, actual Moms wrestling actual babies into actual ballgowns.  Honestly, so much time and energy on my part into wrestling a baby into my uterus and this is what these women are doing with their easily-attained-children.

Whilst Bub was still on break, to continue the theme of reality tv and us furthering our sex education to new and ludicrous heights, we did catch an old school best of "Real Sex" on HBO.  Oh man.  

How many men and women do you think are out there, who did a ridiculous episode of Real Sex back in the 90s when they were in their 20s, who now live a perfectly beige life and are praying that their spouse never catches a rerun on HBO?

We learned about splooshing, which is basically an orgy involving food.  Sounds sexy, right?  Wrong.  Least sexy thing ever.  Imagine a group of very unattractive people rolling around in hot sauce and eating a wide variety of spiced meats off of each others ginormous retro bushes.

And now that I've typed out the word "splooshing", I literally cannot wait to later check what terms new people used to find my blog.  Bring on the porn comments.






36 comments:

  1. You and Bubs are the same age DH & I. DH will be 34 next month and I will be 31 this summer. We also met when I was 18 and got married when I was...also super young...and also the only time I've been close to drunk :) DH has also taught me a lot of those dirty names...nothing we'd ever do, but we joke about them!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I am so tragically behind on all of my disgusting terms! I could not for the life of me this morning remember the difference between trombone and sanchez. Oh for shame.

      Delete
  2. Huh...that should say...we got married when I was 20. At work and brain stopped functioning a few hours ago :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Happy Birthdays and anniversary.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Knowing that you watch The Bachelor makes me feel less ashamed for watching Survivor.

    Happy anniversary!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Iiii haven't seen Survivor since the first season! The naked guy and all that.

      Delete
  5. I was right there with you until: "I also think we can all agree that people need to stop singing Journey songs a-cappella."

    I will NEVER stop singing Journey songs acappella. It will never happen.

    :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I have stopped believing. I have STOPPED believing.

      Delete
  6. happy anniversary....hope you have a fabulous one! And I have missed your writing....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ha! Since it's not our wedding anniversary it's more of a 'oh hey we've been together awhile today'. January is exhausting.

      Delete
  7. Also, I'm thinking that "name the weirdest/funniest sex thing you know" is the perfect ice breaker ever. I can't help but laugh at "Dutch Oven" every. Single. Time. I hear it.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Happy anniversary and happy birthday!!!! What a great photo of you guys. You guys both sound so much in love!!!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you! Ha! We are, we are, in a very weird and psychotic way. ;)

      Delete
  9. Oh gawd, I just learned what a "hot carl" is... not pretty. Oh, and a "blumpkin", which is really NOT as cute as it sounds. I seriously can't wait to hear about all the weird Google search results that will lead to your blog now! "Will splooshing in a ballgown hurt my unborn baby?" et al. Congrats on 31 -- lemme tell you, when you hit 33, it's a lot worse-sounding.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Seee I think 32/33 sounds YOUNGER than 31 for some reason.. I am demented.

      Do not leave me hanging. More importantly, do not lead me to google blumpkin and hot carl.

      Delete
  10. I think some dude at the Google office is sitting there wondering why there's been a huge spike in people googling Rusty Trombone and Blumpkin... though I may be the only one who had to google them. I know what a London Bridge is but only because it was the name of Fergie's album and I heard an interview which said it's actually the name of a sex act and *then* I had to google what it is. Gasp, Fergie! Gasp! And Stork, happy... everything. That about covers it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Okay had to look up that one, which seems like a pretty reasonable way to service two men if you're a whore... But oh dear God look up "the angry pirate".

      Delete
  11. I am fascinated by Real Sex. Seriously, some of the ugliest people I have seen. Seeing them naked is the least sexy thing I can imagine.

    Happy early birthday. 31 isn't so bad - you're still waaaay closer to 30 than you are to 40. I am much to close to 40 for my liking.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I've been trying to think of it like that... For example, when I was 21 I CERTAINLY was barely in my 20s and wasn't really in my twenties until I was 24, 25. So that's what I'm going with.

      Delete
  12. Happy anniversary and happy early birthday! My personal favorite horrible sex term is the Angry Pirate...and I WILL leave you to Google it as it is totally worth it. I'm pretty sure there's some asshat out there who's tried it. I hope he got punched in the nuts.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh. My. Gawd. That wins as the WORST. It is the WORST. Maybe of all time.

      What kind of punk asshole nazi would do such a thing?

      Delete
  13. Happy Birthday! About this Bachelor business. Gawker told me that he was a born-again virgin. 1) Whatever. 2) If true, what will they do if not have sex?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Born again virgin is bull shit. What am I to do, wake up every morning and proclaim myself a virgin? Then have sex with my husband at night, only to be born again in the morning... No no. No.

      Delete
  14. I haven't googled Angry Pirate yet but without doubt the worst I know of is Donkey Punch - fucking evil!! And the grossest is seagulling! Hideous!
    Good to have you back lady and fellow January Baby! I know that you're just on the Capricorn side of the line but I love you anyway ;) x

    ReplyDelete
  15. First - happy everything! Second, I love the wedding photo. Third, sorry, but take it from a 32 year old...you definitely won't feel younger next year :)

    I hope 31 is a fabulously lucky year for you!

    ReplyDelete
  16. You think 31 sounds old, I am staring down the barrel of 33 as of March. Eeep.

    My husband is incredibly impressed that you managed to include the phrase 'rusty trombone' in a blog post.

    I love the episode of How I Met Your Mother when they list all of the Canadian sex acts eg the Old King Clancy, the Reverse Rick Moranis, the Two-Handed Zamboni

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. They referenced a website in that episode, I don't remember what it was, but I went to it and they had actually created a website for people like me who would be dorky enough to look it up.

      Delete
  17. If it helps, I married Chief when I was 23 and he was 29. and I had a fiance before him-I got engaged the first time when I was 20 (!).

    I do like hot sauce, but I definitely don't want it up my lady junk. Eew. and Ouch.

    ReplyDelete
  18. I haven't watched the Bachelor in a few seasons (since the Ben one), but I thinking that I am going to have to catch up on this one. Thank goodness for On Demand (although they disable the commercial ffwd, which sucks). I am anxiously waiting for the return of Girls and Enlightened on HBO. I LOVE weirdo HBO shows!

    Yes, I agree 31 sounds really old. Welcome to the club! I am closer now to 32 than 30 which sucks even more. Happy birthday to you and Bub!

    ReplyDelete
  19. Splooshing is my new favorite word. And to thank you for giving me a new vocabulary word, I present you with this:

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kwMzbuPJQcE

    ReplyDelete