sex and oprah

yesterday i was such a good little stepford wife. I ironed, i cleaned, i cooked. I didn't wear a sexy french maid's outfit and scrub the floor on my hands and knees with a toothbrush, but if it helps you to pretend i did, then you go right ahead.

while i was ironing i watched oprah, which i believe is the official pastime of the bored suburban homemaker. the topic was "is your sex life normal?" and involved unattractive middle-aged doctors (all of whom are, i suspect, still card-carrying members of the international virgin society) giving sex advice to unattractive middle-aged couples who looked about as sexually charged as matthew perry on a fat week.

now on previous occasions when i've seen sex topics on oprah, i have generally giggled hysterically every time oprah said a naughty word and then tried hard not to projectile vomit when she eluded to her own freak show/sex life. except the time when the show was about teenage sex ("is your teenager leading a double life?") and i watched on in car-crash style horror as 15 year old girls admitted to taking part in rainbow parties* on a regular basis ("like, yeah, der, everybody's doin' it mom").

however, i think the ironing board had a bizarre bewitching effect on me. as i stood there de-crinkling my clothes i began to wonder why my own husband hasn't touched me in over 6 months, why he never looks at me like he did when we were dating in college, and why he is screwing his secretary as well as my best friend. tears welled in my eyes, and i stopped ironing in order to get the phone so i could call and abuse the good-for-nothing, cheating scumbag.

but the minute i stepped away from the ironing board, a great tingling sense of calm washed over me (kinda like one feels post-orgasm, but without the mess or the guilty feelings). i realised that i don't actually have a husband, and that i am really a 23 year old single gal ironing her clothes at midday on a wednesday because she has nothing better to do with her time. okay, so then i wanted to cry again, but for totally different reasons.

the moral of this long and drawn out tale of nothingness is that performing household chores while watching oprah can be hazardous to one's wellbeing. imagine if the wind had changed. i might have remained a bitter, frigid housewife for eternity. and thats not supposed to happen for at least a few more years.


*a rainbow party is an oral sex party. all of the girls put on lipstick and each one puts her mouth around the penis of the boy/s who are there to receive favours and leaves a mark in a different place on the penis.

F*#K ME! not to sound like a prude or anything (hey, i'm no priss. i've been to strip clubs. i've watched porn. i've purchased batteries for things other than my discman) but when i was in high school a good party was one wear you kissed a boy and/or puked.

what the hell is going on? do teenage girls have no respect for themselves anymore? are they at least getting favours in return?