The tag on that first letter
"If that's his game, then he's not emotionally mature enough to be in an open relationship"
is particularly lovely.
I look into myself to wonder if I can handle the emotional maturity. Because I don't have enough emotional trauma in my life, I must now run myself through yet another gauntlet.
I like the idea. I despise the concept of jealousy, which is not to say that I don't get jealous. What I do is recognize it and then analyze the hell out of it (okay, I hope to recognize it).
I have pets. They are jealous of each other on who gets petted and played with. They have no hangups about being emotionally mature, they want pettin' NOW, DAMMIT!
But since Barb moved in, Sadie has spent most nights sleeping upstairs with her, and I found myself being jealous.
I know that's really ridiculous (this is the analysis part), but the feeling is still there. And it's completely mine, this little kernel of negativity.
So sue me. I'm not a blissed-out hippie.
Does this mean that in the circumstances of an open relationship that I might feel similar pangs of jealousy? Yeah, I think I probably would. Could I set them aside and deal with them? Maybe. Probably. I'd like to think so. I've gone farther than that, so by practice, yeah. But would it bother me later, causing me to be a little bitch?
Um. Nah. I'd go all emo. And my hair is way too cool for emo.
But I do think that there is room for my current girlfriend CherryCheesecake to possibly give in to those darker feelings that she has for SexyGothGirl whenever we all go hot tubbing in the backyard spa, and after a while we'd have "the talk" and SexyGothGirl would move in with us and we'd all live in a big expensive house with big expensive (but environmentally friendly) cars and all live incredibly happily ever after.
No. No, it's research for my next movie. It's about exploring the deeper aspects of love issues when bi-curious strippers merge into an emotionally stable threesome. It's a documentary. Kinda.
Ooh, hey, Hooters has opened a store in China. Though I think they may have missed the spirit of hooters: "Hooters describes itself as 'tacky, yet unrefined'".
It's about the titties, man. You may feel that it is the rather acrobatic hula-hooping with boisterous cooks singing, but I gotta tell you that when you have the name Hooters, you are selling those buffalo wings borne on the breasts of bountifully playful college girls with well-defined thigh muscles, no matter how many rock-n-roll jukebox numbers you choreograph them to.
Come inside, be American!