I've never been a fan of the t.v. show "Sex in the City." Seriously, it's true. I wouldn't lie to you about that.
The one time I did see it, I thought, "those materialistic bitches need to shut the fuck up, get themselves a sybian and stop whining about men."
I actually own a sybian as a matter of fact. For my birthday this year, Pete bought me one. It sits in a plastic grey storage bin in the corner. I think I have used it twice. I don't even use the hitachi wand much anymore. I don't know what the hell happened. I used to tell everyone that if I had those gadgets, I would never need a man again as long as I lived.
Well tonight, after I cooked an entire Thanksgiving meal all by myself while everyone else in the house slept all day, Pete started to watch an episode of "Sex in the City," so I sat down to watch, having nothing else to do. The food had been eaten and put away, and I was tired. I wish I had just gone up to sleep, but since I had taken a nap already in the afternoon, that didn't seem to be the answer.
The episode was the one where Carrie and Mr. Big decide to get married. Only problem is, after all the planning and when the big day finally arrives, (his third marriage, and her friend whose husband just told her that he cheated on her, tells him at the rehearsal dinner the night before that "they are crazy" because, "everything is ruined once you get married,") Mr. Big gets cold feet and jilts Carrie at the altar. He can't get out of the car to go inside the place. She is completely devastated. Her friends go with her on her what would have been her honeymoon to Mexico.
I sat there watching this, silently crying while watching this stupid show, hating these women more than ever. It never once occurred to me that Pete might do the same thing to ME when our wedding day comes, until I saw this goddamned show. Talk about triggering an emotional meltdown mess. I had a huge full-blown panic attack in the bathroom, complete with rocking on the toilet, sucking my thumb, and uncontrollable tears and whimpering.
I actually own a sybian as a matter of fact. For my birthday this year, Pete bought me one. It sits in a plastic grey storage bin in the corner. I think I have used it twice. I don't even use the hitachi wand much anymore. I don't know what the hell happened. I used to tell everyone that if I had those gadgets, I would never need a man again as long as I lived.
Well tonight, after I cooked an entire Thanksgiving meal all by myself while everyone else in the house slept all day, Pete started to watch an episode of "Sex in the City," so I sat down to watch, having nothing else to do. The food had been eaten and put away, and I was tired. I wish I had just gone up to sleep, but since I had taken a nap already in the afternoon, that didn't seem to be the answer.
The episode was the one where Carrie and Mr. Big decide to get married. Only problem is, after all the planning and when the big day finally arrives, (his third marriage, and her friend whose husband just told her that he cheated on her, tells him at the rehearsal dinner the night before that "they are crazy" because, "everything is ruined once you get married,") Mr. Big gets cold feet and jilts Carrie at the altar. He can't get out of the car to go inside the place. She is completely devastated. Her friends go with her on her what would have been her honeymoon to Mexico.
I sat there watching this, silently crying while watching this stupid show, hating these women more than ever. It never once occurred to me that Pete might do the same thing to ME when our wedding day comes, until I saw this goddamned show. Talk about triggering an emotional meltdown mess. I had a huge full-blown panic attack in the bathroom, complete with rocking on the toilet, sucking my thumb, and uncontrollable tears and whimpering.
In fact, I felt like running away, so I put on my coat and walked out the door. I walked two blocks to the main busy road where we live, in the dark, at 9:30 p.m. I didn't bring my purse, my ID, my iPhone, nothing. I didn't care. I just had to get the hell out of this house. I got to the main road and stood there, dazed, wondering what the hell to do. I've never felt so claustrophobic and trapped in my whole life as I did tonight.
I've been living in a Donna Reed pipe dream since I moved here. I got totally sucked into this domestic shit, and now I feel trapped, like I have nowhere to go, nobody to help me, and I'm on this runaway train or something, that I can't stop.
Maybe this shit is normal for people who are planning to get hitched, I don't know, but I noticed three things today that made me feel a jolt...they say that things come in three's, right? Well, the first thing was watching that stupid friggin' show...my only comment to Pete, in dead serious tone, was "if you do that to me, you are a dead man." He giggled, and so I said stone cold serious in an ominous way, the word "DEAD."
The second thing was, I told Pete and his son, that I would NOT be doing dishes today NOR would I do them on Xmas, and that I expected THEM to do it. Well, they loaded the dishwasher, but to our surprise one of the heavy duty pot lids, for some inexplicable reason, completely SHATTERED inside the dishwasher, with bits of glass everywhere, clogging the whole thing and rendering it worthless. Now I get to wash dishes by hand. Do you think they sabotaged the machine on purpose, because they didn't want to pitch in and help me?? I have no way of knowing. But the thought did occur to me. Talk about symbolism, the shattering of an item we THOUGHT was shatterproof, heavy duty and dependable. Out of nowhere, and for no reason we could fathom, it simply fell apart.
Third, while cooking, I had slightly opened one of the kitchen windows, taking care NOT to open the one on the left because the wooden sign that has Pete's last name on it, was on the outside sitting in the window ledge. It belonged to his mother, actually, and it was a wedding gift that she received when she married his dad. I stuck it there last week, thinking it was rather nice and appropriate. So the window on the right was open, ever so slightly, and after we had our Thanksgiving dinner, I noticed that the window had been closed by someone else. I also noticed that the sign had fallen off the window ledge into a chair on the deck outside.
So....to reiterate....a stupid show about a jilted bride, a shatterproof pot lid suddenly shattering out of nowhere, and a fallen sign with Pete's last name on it. All in one day. All in the matter of an hour of each other, actually.
And you wonder why I had a panic attack??? Symbolism is everywhere, and I pay attention to such things.
Funny thing is, Pete didn't even notice that I had gone for that walk. He was too busy playing on the laptop computer in the living room. I know this because I was outside on the deck looking in. I was gone for an hour. Nobody noticed.
So when I came back in, I took my engagement ring off and left it on the coffee table. I'm scared to death.
I've been living in a Donna Reed pipe dream since I moved here. I got totally sucked into this domestic shit, and now I feel trapped, like I have nowhere to go, nobody to help me, and I'm on this runaway train or something, that I can't stop.
Maybe this shit is normal for people who are planning to get hitched, I don't know, but I noticed three things today that made me feel a jolt...they say that things come in three's, right? Well, the first thing was watching that stupid friggin' show...my only comment to Pete, in dead serious tone, was "if you do that to me, you are a dead man." He giggled, and so I said stone cold serious in an ominous way, the word "DEAD."
The second thing was, I told Pete and his son, that I would NOT be doing dishes today NOR would I do them on Xmas, and that I expected THEM to do it. Well, they loaded the dishwasher, but to our surprise one of the heavy duty pot lids, for some inexplicable reason, completely SHATTERED inside the dishwasher, with bits of glass everywhere, clogging the whole thing and rendering it worthless. Now I get to wash dishes by hand. Do you think they sabotaged the machine on purpose, because they didn't want to pitch in and help me?? I have no way of knowing. But the thought did occur to me. Talk about symbolism, the shattering of an item we THOUGHT was shatterproof, heavy duty and dependable. Out of nowhere, and for no reason we could fathom, it simply fell apart.
Third, while cooking, I had slightly opened one of the kitchen windows, taking care NOT to open the one on the left because the wooden sign that has Pete's last name on it, was on the outside sitting in the window ledge. It belonged to his mother, actually, and it was a wedding gift that she received when she married his dad. I stuck it there last week, thinking it was rather nice and appropriate. So the window on the right was open, ever so slightly, and after we had our Thanksgiving dinner, I noticed that the window had been closed by someone else. I also noticed that the sign had fallen off the window ledge into a chair on the deck outside.
So....to reiterate....a stupid show about a jilted bride, a shatterproof pot lid suddenly shattering out of nowhere, and a fallen sign with Pete's last name on it. All in one day. All in the matter of an hour of each other, actually.
And you wonder why I had a panic attack??? Symbolism is everywhere, and I pay attention to such things.
Funny thing is, Pete didn't even notice that I had gone for that walk. He was too busy playing on the laptop computer in the living room. I know this because I was outside on the deck looking in. I was gone for an hour. Nobody noticed.
So when I came back in, I took my engagement ring off and left it on the coffee table. I'm scared to death.
I guess I am going to bed now.
Oh, and one other thing, I mentioned before we ate dinner that this was our very LAST Thanksgiving as single people. Pete joked, "we could postpone the wedding another year if you want." (ACK!!)...so jokingly, I said, "Next year we order Chinese." He laughed and said, "Oh I see, this is just the pre-wedding Donna Reed Thanksgiving, but after we get hitched, that all ends, right?" (ACK AGAIN)...I just looked at him silently, contemplating the statement, wondering what the heck was going on in HIS head...
He may be right. This whole thing may all end suddenly and devastate me BEFORE we even GET to the wedding. I feel some ominous bad luck cloud following me around suddenly and it's freaking me the hell out. I think I have a night time sleep date with my teddy bear tonight. I need a hug.
---Becky
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