2009 August » CoupleDumb

Your Side of the Bed or Mine?

Aug 312009

No, this isn't us

First of all, I feel that people should be shot in the head if they call sex, “making love”. I think our new wonderful president should enact a law or even an amendment calling for immediate castration if someone refers to the act of boning as other than that. Instead of making love, we will use terms like “sex”, “fuck”, “doing it”, “getting some”, “buttering the pancakes”. I fell that this sweeping legislation will almost immediately ebb the raging divorce rate in this country.

After 20 years of marriage, I can safely say Paul and I are very intimate. Most people will confuse intimacy and sex which is why we have such a high divorce rate and some people date like serial killers on a spree. Intimacy is the sharing of vulnerability. It is creating a level of honesty that only you two share. Now I know that many of you are saying, “Lee, WTF! Vulnerability, honesty, serial killers? This shit isn’t funny and it makes me feel weird in my stomach!” Relax people! Paul and I are committed to sharing our pearls of wisdom of how this relationship has worked and it will only pinch a little bit.

Why you ask? Because we’re confusing love with sex! We are confusing intimacy and bonding with a few minutes of grunting with several Oh my Gods at the end! For those of you not convinced, I want you to close your eyes and think of the last time you had your bell wrung and answer this, did you create a deep intimacy or did you just bump uglies? I would rather hide the salami than make love to him. It’s sexier and, truth be told, after 20 years, a little dirty is very good.

I make love to my husband when we talk to each other. I make love to him every single day, not the occasional Saturday if there isn’t anything on T.V.. We share our feelings. We’re honest with each other. We let our partners into that part of ourselves that we deem too scary to share with the world. This is how we create intimacy. This is how we make love. It sounds grosser than it really is. We tend to laugh a whole lot when we are being intimate. There are the occasional tears but mostly it’s a reaffirming that this is the only person I ever want to be with.

Let’s face it there have been times when we couldn’t have sex because of illness, pregnancy or other natural disaster. And, we know there may come a day when one of us just won’t be able to do it. So then what? No more intimacy? Is that it? We have a back up plan. How about you?

Paul’s comments: Do you feel dirty? Kind of voyeuristic? You should because you are watching us in an intimate moment. This whole blog site is a function of our intimacy: the banter of our inner thoughts, the running hand-in-hand through the cyber-fields of our musings. Keep reading. Maybe we’ll get a webcam.

Lee responds: Hand in hand? Baby, that ain’t my hand.

WTF of the Week: Oompa Loompas Wannabees

WTF of the Week

Aug 292009

He uses shoe polish

          We all know that too much sun is not good for us. Paul has to go to the dermatologist every year to get checked because he is predisposed to skin cancer. However, the bleached out look on our bodies is somewhat reminiscent of Michael Jackson in the dead of winter or the death shroud of Lord of the Rings Queen of the Elves (yes, we glow as well).

          We have dabbled in the self tanner since Lee’s idea of tanning is charring in odd patterns followed by pealing and then back to the color of non-fat milk. Here’s where we make our point (yes we have one), we usually pick a color that is in the tanning spectrum. You know, brown, bronze, ecru. So when the fuck did Orange become a tanning color? Really? Orange?

          This desire to look like an Oompa Loompa without the wicked rhythm and songs is kind of like playing gay for a day in our books. Sure it’s cool and everybody is doing it but think of the regret in your bed in the morning. Come on! These guys must have sheets that look like they were getting freaky with a pumpkin. Ewwwwww!

          We don’t know what’s worse, being so white that you can do a red blood cell count by looking at your chest or being the proud owner of overalls and working for Willy Wonka. We would rather be pale than to look like Trump or Valentino. And while we are on the subject, does the orange affect your hair? Seriously? We get having a little poof, getting a little height, hiding a cow lick but guys, sometimes we just have to let it go.

          And here’s a special message to body builders. Stop it! Not only are you obscenely muscular, ripped, veiny and generally gross (and small willied…don’t lie) then you cover that mess with tanner that makes you look…well, ripped and douchy.

          So everybody, just stop it! If you are white, tough. If you are blessed with coco skin and a beautiful caramel color then hooray for you. Funny how society discriminates against people of color but they work so hard at attaining their color. Go figure!

I'm Not Fat, I'm Just Bloated

Reader's Questions

Aug 282009

Tyra - Chubby girl spokesmodel?

Susan asked: “Girls, body image, and (over)weight. Can you speak to that? (I am not talking about being skinny minnies, although that is certainly a serious problem as well.)”

Lee says: Our daughters are definitely not immune to the societal obsession with weight and looks. Our focus on the superficial has taken a turn from being health conscious to being perfect. As we know cognitively, perfection is impossible however emotionally we all strive for some sort of perfection. The physical perfection is trying to fit some sort of mold that was created by some warped individual. When we were growing up, the ideal was to 36, 24, 36. That was considered a “10”! Today, that woman would be a cow and told to get lipo, boobies and wear Spanx!

I’m a big girl. I have been all my life and, even though I have been releasing weight (I don’t use the word lose because it puts me in a scarcity spiral and makes me want to keep what I’m losing. Stop shaking your head, it works for me), I will always retain my Latina ass. It’s remarkable and keeps my husband quite happy. I understand the stigma that the extra weight places on our kids and it saddens me when a beautiful girl is overweight since I know the crap she will go through. People are cruel; there is no getting around that.

I know my weight issues are exacerbated by the fact that I use food to soothe me when stressed. I have worked on these issues in therapy throughout the years. A lot of my unhealthy eating behavior stems from inconsistent parents who would bitch if I didn’t eat and would freak if I did. There was no pleasing them so I ate secretly. These harmful habits have carried over into my adulthood and voila, chunky woman. I have become more conscious of my eating and really watch what I do, not to be skinny but to be healthy.

Moms and Dads are responsible for teaching their children that the inside is more important than the outside. We also should be teaching them to honor their bodies not only with the food they put into it but also who we allow to touch it and how. Most religions teach that our bodies are temples and are sacred. And yet we treat them like piñatas at 4 year olds birthday party; filled full of crap and ready for the whacking.

It should behoove every parent to be consistent and loving to their children. We should be modeling healthy behavior not only in eating but in lifestyle and the way we love and relate to others. They watch to see if you share your feelings and are willing to work on your issues in a healthy manner. Our kids look up to us, which is a horrifying thought. They will repeat our mistakes which include how we deal with stress. So put down the cookie dough and chocolate sauce and reach for the carrots and call your therapist when you’re stressed. If you’re like me, you want your kids to live a long and healthy life being happy with who they are and how they look. If that look has some extra junk in the trunk, then amen.

Paul says: I love my rubenesque wifey and her Latina ass. But, as I write this, I realize that that is the same stupid thinking, just with a higher lipid content. I wonder if, in some alternate universe where men like chubby women, females are gorging themselves for beauty and getting fat pumped into their hips.