I was listening to my usual trashy morning talk show this morning and had to switch the channel when they began talking about sex addiction and, of course, Tiger Woods. They also mentioned a bevy of other (male) (famous) “sex addicts”. And I got irrationally angry (well, I was kind of getting angry at everything this morning…including the woman I saw walking, no, trudging to the train in Uggs that were basically falling off her feet. Really? Are you that lazy? PICK UP YOUR FEET!) (PMS is lovely) about it.
Because here’s the thing. I believe sex addiction exists. I believe there are those who really suffer from an uncontrollable need for all things sexual. But in Tiger’s case? In other famous males’ cases? Come ooooooooooon. There is no need to put an addiction or disorder title on to these people! This is not a case of not being able to control oneself. This is people abusing fame and power and taking what they want when they want. I highly doubt that, if given the opportunity to do it over again, they would change anything—except maybe they wouldn’t have gotten married at all. But then where would Tiger have gotten his sponsorships if he wasn’t the devoted family man with the angelic wife?
Bottom line, it just bugs me that the cheating party gets to be the victim now. Oh it’s not as horrible as it seems, because it’s an addiction (whisper that for effect). Because where would all of the interested parties be if the Tiger brand was actually a sham? Hmmmm?
Deception, people. That’s the disease at hand. On everyone’s part.
I wish I could webcam Jessa at home while we’re out. It’d probably be really boring, but it’d be cute to see if she ever played by herself (as the placement of her toys/bones/stuff in the room would suggest).
Call me stupid, but I don’t quite understand the format of Jezebel. I mean, I do. But I know certain people are “commentators”. Yet I can’t seem to figure out where or how or what they’re writing/commenting on. Seriously. I might be dumb.
That said, y’all, Blow Joy should have been at the meetup. That bitch is the best.
It was pretty tame. Worked during the day on Saturday at my new weekend job, at a fabulous store called Virtu in Bucktown. It’s quite a fabulous little shop with gifts and really unique goodies. I’ve been shopping there since I moved here, basically, and have become friendly with the owner, Julie. So in recent months, we’ve worked out a little mentorship dealio where I’ll work there (and eventually give her a much-needed day off) and she’ll show me the ropes with store-ownership. Fantastic.
So I was there most of the day and then Jonny and I went to a couples cooking class at Kendall College. We learned how to make scallops, risotto with mascarpone and parmesan cheeses, and steak with a panko/blue cheese crust. But best of all, we learned how to make beignets! Oh my delicious. If they weren’t so awful for me, I’d make ‘em all the time.
Brunch on Sunday at Schuba’s with more decadent foods, followed by some music with Jonny at our practice space. In the 5.5 years we’ve been together, we’ve only played music together once or twice (surprisingly), so it was really really fun going over a bunch of new songs I’d written. There was a funny duality of having an ease of playing because he knows me better than anybody and knows what I’d want, but also seeing each other in a context we’ve not really experienced. Rehearsal Alison is a different animal (usually when I’m in that room with my other bandmates, I’m a crass boys-club convert). It was so much fun, though.
Then off to the grocery store and home to make dinner and a marble loaf for dessert. And of course, there was Big Love. Of course.
Much different from the five hours I spent with the most kickin’ ladies (and gentleman) around. All in all…wouldn’t change a thing.
OOOOH, I didn't think you were boring. Just saying.
I also do think you have like the prettiest hair ever and I kind of wanted to pet your head. Sorry. I'm creepy.
Why thank you, Sammy! You totally could have and it wouldn’t have been creepy. I think I passed by appropriate when I bummed a smoke off of you before I even hugged you hello. Eek! Where are my manners!!??
You, by the way, are fabulous and lovely. And you are my hair-teasing inspiration.