I feel quite lonely now that all of the reality shows to which I have become quite hopelessly addicted are gone. Survivor, American Idol, America’s Next Top Model – they are the cool fire that my husband and I toast our hands before of an evening. The reality shows that have replaced them–America’s Next Bottom Comic, Simon Whoosiewhatsie’s Next American Bottom, So You Think You Can Polka–are simply not addictable enough to do the job.
It’s fortunate, therefore, that the outside world is taking my attention. Like someone over at Blogher who was writing about polyamory, which I took to be something related to chain mail and lances, but turns out to be–ummm, I’m not sure but I think it’s when you have more than one love object in your life. Well, duh. This needs a support group? So that you can do it…without guilt? Fearlessly? Defiantly? Jeeze, when I was doing it, I just called it having sex with more than one person at different times. But I can see how polyamory is so much simpler to say.
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