Saturday, January 3, 2009

Sex and Suburbia, Nothing

Sex and Suburbia, Nothing
By Julie Stankowski

I can’t believe it. I have nothing to say. Call 911. Get the paramedics. There has got to be something very, very wrong with me because I always have something to say. Just ask my husband. Maybe he decided to slip me a Mickey to change my oral diarrhea into oral constipation. I don’t know. But I sat down to write an article. First, I was thinking I would write about New Year’s resolutions, primarily because that is what every writer does the first week in January, but I really don’t have anything innovative or funny to say about that. Except that no one ever sticks with their resolutions past March and if you are going to resolve to do (or not do) something, I think you should just keep it to yourself. You know, like making a wish. They say you should always keep your wish a secret in order for it to come true. Maybe they forgot to tell us that our resolutions are supposed to be secrets also. Maybe we get rewarded for sometimes keeping our thoughts to ourselves. Guess I’m screwed.

So then, I actually did write an article about Bravo’s Real Housewives. That, however, is sitting on my hard drive somewhere since I was recently informed that many people do not watch that show and would not “get” my article at all (if you are a housewives watcher like me and would like to see my article, post a quick comment and if I have enough response I’ll post it). Okay, back to the drawing board and I still feel as though I have nothing to say. So, I watched Batman The Dark Knight with my husband tonight. He loved it! He previously saw it in the theater and then wanted to watch it again on DVD. When the movie was over, all I could think was that it was such a guy movie and I would have much preferred to watch the Sex and the City Movie again or any chick-flick I could find on cable. All right, still nothing to say except that it’s interesting how men and women can be so different. My husband can watch the same movie 10 times and enjoy it each time. I, on the other hand, feel like “been there, done that.” Although I must disclaim that even one day later, I can’t remember half of what happened in a movie. Nevertheless, there are only a handful of movies I like to re-watch: the Godfather movies; the Usual Suspects with Kevin Spacey and any and all Woody Allen movies. Yes, I learned a little about myself, but still nothing to premise an article on.

So, I’m wracking my brain to think of topics and I’m just sitting in my office looking around. I realize how much an office says about a person. My office is messy. Ergo, I am a messy person. This is true and one of the things I hate about myself and have resolved to change on multiple New Year’s past. But I told people. I did not keep it a secret. What do you know, it never happened. This year, I am going with my secret wish theory so you will not know what my resolutions are, if any. See how many great things can come from writing? You can learn about yourself and make up ridiculous theories to support your shortcomings! You should try it! Oh, and one more thing, my girlfriend just called to ask if my husband and I wanted to go to a restaurant where you cook your own food on a Japanese-like table. Hello! Why would I want to go to a restaurant to cook my own dinner when I have a perfectly good kitchen at home? (Even though my husband thinks I need to Map quest its location.) This goes along with my camping theory. Why would I want to go to the wilderness and pee in a hole when I have a perfectly good toilet at home? I don’t get it.

Anyway, I continue looking around my office for inspiration. I have the typical family photos and candles and chotchkes. On my coffee table, I have an empty bottle of Chardonnay, an empty pint of Haagen-Dazs, a stack of unread newspapers and magazines, a tissue box and a gigantic Costco size plastic jar of Red Vines. On my floor are about a half dozen doggie toys because my Goldendoodle puppy hangs out in here with me. So, what would one think of me after seeing all this? Instead of reading about current events, political issues, decorating and recipes, I sit here and pig out and get drunk and then cry over my writer’s block? Oy, that’s not good. But what about the dog toys? Do those give the picture that I am a sweet and loving mother to children and animals alike? Our seven-year-old daughter begged for a dog, we finally gave in and we all love her so much now (the dog, my daughter has always been loved). I don’t know, but I’m afraid to reveal anything else in this room for fear you will think I am some sort of nut case weirdo.

You know the MTV show Cribs, where celebrities and Rappers show off their mansions and fleet of cars? Well, every time I have seen that show, the homeowner opens the refrigerator to reveal its contents. Their refrigerators always seem to be sparkling clean and perfectly organized and contain only bottles of water and bottles of Crystal champagne. What is this supposed to say about them? That they are rich so they stock Crystal? That they are skinny because they have only water bottles? That their kids are malnourished since the only things in the house to digest are water and alcohol? Come to my house and look in my refrigerator. The door is overflowing with every condiment that ever existed. Hopefully, most are not expired yet, but quite honestly, I’m not sure. The vegetable drawers are full as are the meat and cheese drawers and the fruit drawer. There is turkey, ham and chicken. There is orange juice and milk and Diet Coke and water and wine. There are Lunchables. There are a variety of Tupperware dishes filled with pasta, stuffing, leftover Mickey Mouse chicken nuggets and leftover Japanese food. What does my refrigerator say about me? Well, I think it says that there are five people living in this house who actually eat. That’s it.

Well, I started with nothing to say and I’m ending with nothing to say. Except that if you just look around, you’ll come up with things to say, as boring and meaningless as they might be. Right now, I see my handsome husband getting into bed. I think I will go join him, but I will say nothing else about that because I know I must keep my wishes a secret.

1 comment:

Sex and the Sippy said...

Please post the story! A couple of my LA readers told me about your blog and I love it! Especially the giant vat of Red Vines. Thanks for keeping it so real!