Tis the season to put aside “my indignation over the sorry state of the world,” columnist Barbara Kay wrote last week.
It struck me as both a nice thought and an apt professional summary from someone who expresses a lot of indignation in her newspaper columns and on social media. I could relate to it. This blog is full of indignation, too. Indignation is the stuff of many columnists.
And tweets. I was reading some of Jordan Peterson’s tweets today. I couldn’t help think, “man, he is bitter. Like Alistair Sim’s Scrooge in the first part of the film A Christmas Carol.” Maybe that’s his schtick. Or maybe it’s genuine teenage rage? But, wait. Could an old guy pull off teen angst?
OK.That’s a stretch. And maybe a little indignant, too, yes? I’m just going with a little freeflow this evening. I’m not picking on Jordan Peterson. I wish him peace and love and harmony.
So, there, goodbye indignation for a while. I’m with Barbara on that. I’ve found myself moving that way, anyhow. And I have no doubt that it really is a “tis the season” thing. Well, I hope it is. Maybe for one day, at least. Christmas Day. Imagine if there was no indignation around the world. Sing it, John . . .
But that’s not really what I wanted to talk about tonight . . .
Polyamory. The word brings a smile to my face, and a happy feeling on this evening. Warming, actually. My bff and I stumbled across the series You Me Her on Amazon Prime about three happy people in a relationship. It’s upbeat. It’s fun. It’s edgy. And there’s no indignation.
Just smiles and laughs, and the stress relief that comes with them.
It’s a very smart series, well produced and acted, and I’m looking forward to seeing where it goes over five seasons. (And, hey, I could so do a polyamorous relationship. It is a bisexual’s nirvana.)
“Smart” is a word I look for when scanning the offerings on streaming services, and there are a fair number of good offerings. Among them on my current rotation and highly recommended is the series Sort Of, about a gender fluid millennial. It is enlightening and entertaining. And it’s hip and cool. Watch it, and you’re caught up with the times.
So, tis the season, eh . . .
— Jillian
Jordan Peterson is an interesting character. He has become a darling of the conservative community. Once in a while he says something that resonates for me but most of the time he just sounds like the last 70 years haven’t happened. Not overtly political but extremely traditional.
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Polyamory is wrong:
Poly is a Greek root. Amory is a Latin root. It’s just WRONG to put them together.
Okay, more seriously, polyamory sounds great in theory, but rarely works in practice. I only know of one couple (well, quadrilateral) where it’s worked long term.
I have sometimes point out to my beloved that having multiple wives (or at least a wife and some concubines) is an old Vietnamese custom. She claims the custom involves a sharp knife applied to a certain appendage of your husband’s if he tries it. I think I’m right, but (a) she probably knows VN customs better than I do, and (b) she definitely knows where the knives are kept.
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Oh my poor hen-pecked friend, marriage is sooo boring. I would NEVER, EVER get married. I prefer to have bffs.
As for polyamory, I wasn’t thinking of a 24/7 threesome or foursome. That would get tired very quickly. I’m thinking more along the lines of delicious, amorous weekends . . .
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Uh-huh. And when was the last time your gf let you off the leash (literally or metaphorically) tondo such a thing b
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I was never on a leash. You should know that as a domina, I control the leash. Remember?
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Yes, that was part of your charm. But I’m pretty sure that Maggie holds the metaphorical leash and you aren’t off have swinging weekends. You’re as hen-pecked – I mean settled down – as I am.
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Nope. Eat your heart out!
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Nope to which part?
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And my heart is not what I enjoy eating out in my marriage.
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Nope. I am not as hen-pecked as you are, nor settled down. I’m far too bohemian for that sort of dreary lifestyle.
But I am happy for you and your beloved (i.e. your domina) and your beautiful children.
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Ha. Don’t believe you, but leave you to your fantasy life. And your beloved gf.
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