Bridal shower fantasy

At first my "surprise" bridal shower seemed like it would be a tolerable idea. Unfortunately, I was brought back to my senses when my surprise bridal shower required my participation in the planning. Sometimes binuclear families suck. My friends emailed me trying to figure out who I wanted to invite. I already made the shit list for the wedding guest list cuts, so in my every effort to not decide the invitees I gave them the mothers’ email addresses and a list of the women invited to the wedding.

Having not been to a bridal shower I have no idea what to expect. Scary games? Then, Kait reminded me of the other “haha” funny part of bridal showers such as the wonderful lingerie piece from the soon to be mother-in-law. The thought of lingerie floating around is not what horrifies me. It is the thought that my mother-in-law would love it because she wants me popping out babies right away, and if it meant that she would have to promote my having sex with her first born, well, she’d happily endure it. (Sorry TA; you can always seek revenge by buying me a butt plug instead.)

Then there is my own mother who is definitely a burn your bra sexual freedom lady. While bridal dress shopping my sister reminded me of when my mother attempted to act out the sex scene with Halle Berry and Billy Bob Thornton from Monster’s Ball…in front of my sister’s husband. If you have not seen this movie you just don’t understand. Perhaps, my mother can give a butt plug tutorial at the bridal shower.

Family members are crazy and that’s why I love them. I am sure the bridal shower will be a fantastic female event (thanks girls!) where I will no doubt now finally receive the butt plug of my dreams and the much needed lesson from my mother – preferably after we eat the cake.

Sexing up the honeymoon

I can’t decide. Writing about my future honeymoon and Victoria’s Secret or the movie Precious…? It’s Friday, so I think I will keep it light, but you should check out the movie Precious.

My fiancés parents have generously offered us their timeshare points so that we may have a honeymoon – without it we surely would end up on a “beach” enjoying the frigid waters of Lake Champlain in Vermont. We started to peruse our options, which I actually found overwhelming. Argg! No more wedding stuff. After my brain went dead from scrolling through the options I went to go numb out on the couch and was delighted to find yet another Victoria’s Secret catalog that I had not gotten around to flipping through. Then the light went on!

Me: Oh! Yah!

Mike: What?

Me: It’s our honeymoon. I get to buy new sexy lingerie and swimsuits!

Mike: (He rolls his eyes and goes back to playing his Xbox)

Ok so it is true I buy a new…or rather a few new swimsuits every year. But I swear it is because I have not found the perfect swimsuit and I figured I should enjoy my youth why I can. But wait. Shouldn’t he maybe kick up the sexy factor for our honeymoon too? Why is it often the woman’s, and/or in my soon to be case, the wife’s sole job to make sure the heat gets turned up? It is true that I enjoy the acquisition of Victoria’s Secret probably more than either Mike or our joint checking account. Nonetheless, I do not want this weird gendered role where I am the sole keeper of sexy. Women unite! We must demand the Victoria’s Secret for men. Why does this bring a weird catalog to mind where the primary shoppers are gay men and middle age women shopping for their husbands?

Oh well. I am not sure I am going to be able to settle this one now. I will just enjoy my new acquisitions and of course the look on my fiancés face. Not the one where he see’s our checking ledger; the “I cannot contain myself” one when I come strutting out in my new come-hither lingerie.