Last night I had a particularly hideous bedtime with the kids, in which I lost my temper and screamed one sentence that likely permanently scratched my vocal chords and everyone cried and once they were asleep, I was incapable of any more rational thought, so my mind started to wander…
When I was younger and more obviously “hot” as opposed to somewhat hot on a good day when I have concealer on and the lighting is right and I’m not scowling which always make me look jowly, men would often say the following to me:
“Man, if I was single…” the implication being that if there wasn’t some pesky wife or girlfriend to get in the way, he would gladly hump me for a while, before moving on to someone else he could cheat on me with. While flattering, I always thought the expression “If I were single” to be unbelievably insulting to the wife/girlfriend/husband/boyfriend/roommate-you-occasionally-copulate-with-when-too-drunk-to-say-no-who-thinks-you’re-in-a-relationship. I always felt that I couldn’t imagine my life without my husband and children and didn’t care to and what a cad you are, sir.
However now that I am “separated” (hint: read to the end of that blog!) and while I actively choose to be monogamously married, I can actually imagine a life in which I am self-sufficient enough to survive without my husband. This is a revelation for me as I always thought that if left alone, I would begin “Melting melting…” like the Wicked Witch of the West. (By the way, Glenda the Good Witch says that only Bad Witches are ugly, but Good Witches are beautiful. Tell that to Mother Theresa who managed to achieve a fair amount without a great skin regimen. Haven’t seen Giselle Bundchen do an awful lot for society lately, but I digress…)
I have gotten to the bottom of myself, and it turns out you cannot die of loneliness, or embarrassment or even frustration, although these feelings can certainly make you throw things, eat compulsively and watch endless re-runs of Law and Order SVU.
However I have known more than a few people who have slashed their wrists because they were so codependent (my what an uplifting post this is turning out to be…) and even though they slashed them vertically so maybe they didn’t intend to really cark it, I would probably prefer the L & O option.
So even though I am firmly grounded in shit-sucking reality, I am entitled to some fantasies to get me through the dark night of the kids’ bedtimes. The fantasies occur in an imaginary parallel universe where I am rich, childless and single, and everyone else on earth is rich, childless and single, and everyone I desire desires me, so no one gets hurt and also my husband was never born hence I never met him so I have never been really and truly in love and never had children (I am SO thin) and life is still one long fun party. So put down those dishes/files/nunchucks and come live vicariously through my imaginary world…
1.This man… Who shall remain nameless.
2. Lest you think I’m monogamous in this fantasy, there is also this man, who will bounce on top of me, likely requiring extensive chiropractic… but it will be WORTH IT.
3. Italy. Just, Italy. I will live there. There will be cheese. Gelato. Sometimes a museum. Numbers 1. and 2. will live in separate rooms in my Tuscan Villa breathlessly awaiting my arrival. They will have no life in their respective rooms, each will not even know the other exists, just read books while I’m gone so they are ready to amuse me with endless quips/pleasure me when I return. They will intuitively know when I want to be roughly manhandled and gently held while I cry.
4. Over there in Italy I will have a bi-lingual nursemaid/caretaker/confidante such as the “Nurse” character in Romeo and Juliet. Older, pleasantly round and endlessly patient, she will wake me in the morning with a Lavazza Latte, warm croissant and a foot rub. She will pick up my dirty underwear and constantly ask me how I’m doing and whether I need anything. I will let her fuck 1. or 2., but only on her one night off a year.
5. The Nurse starts fucking Jay Cutler and Charlie Hunnam and spills the secret of the other’s existence (in two languages.) They hatch a plan, and one night she slips Ambien into my Hot Chocolato amazing night time whipped cream drink. While I sleep innocently, they make a ladder out of the 3000 thread count Pratesi sheets, and escape the villa, into the Tuscan night.
Fuck my life.
What’s your favorite fantasy?