Things I’m Not, Part II
So I’m talking to my critique partner, the lovely Valerie Taylor, and she says, “I have good gossip.” And I say, “Oh, goody, what is it?” because I’m not a nice person. And she says, “It’s about you.” And I say, “Oh, yeah, it’s the Bob thing. That’s not happening.” She said, “No, this is about you moving to New York to live with your boyfriend and get a facelift.”
This is where I have to pause and wonder what kind of a slow news day it has to be before people gossip about a middle-aged romance writer who lives in Ohio. It’s kind of flattering. Especially when Val says, “It’s all over the internet.” No, it’s not. Cheney trying to off one of his hunting partners is all over the internet. Jon Stewart hosting the Oscars is all over the internet. My personal life is barely of interest to the people who read my blogs and even that, I figure, is just because I’m a train wreck waiting to happen (love that song) and you all want to be standing by when I run completely off the rails.
But in the interests of truth . . .
1. I Am Not Moving to New York City.
Not right now anyway. My kid lives there and I like her and I’d like to see more of her. Plus all my friends are writers and editors and agents, and sooner or later all writers’ roads lead to New York so I could see them when they came to stay with me. But have you priced New York real estate? It’s insane. Plus, I just put in a killer bathroom here. And then there’s the five hundred city book tour I’m on for most of 2006. So I’d like to move but I’m thinking New York is not a possibility, especially not right now. But kudos to whoever’s spreading this one because it has a fair chance of being true some day.
2. I Am Not Living with My Boyfriend
(I’m sorry, I just can’t get past Cloris Leachman saying, “He vas my BOYFRIENDT!” I said to Val, “Aren’t I kind of past the boyfriend stage?” and she said, “You’re never too old for a boyfriend,” but I’m thinking there must be a better word. Lover, but that’s probably TMI. Significant Other, but that’s jargony. Guy I spend the majority of my time with, but that’s Bob. Your assignment for today, class, is to come up with a good word for romantic companion for the adult female.)
Where was I? Oh, right.
2. I Am Not Living with My Boyfriend
Val and I tried to figure this one out and the only thing we could think of is that there’s a nice guy who rents apartments by the night in New York and I’m crazy about his basement. That’s not a euphemism, I love the ground floor apartment. If I were a rich woman and the apartment were for sale, I’d buy it in a heartbeat, but I’m not, it isn’t, and he isn’t. My boyfriendt, I mean. I said, “Are you sure they don’t mean Bob?” and Val said, with great enthusiasm, “No, this is beside Bob, so you have TWO boyfriends and they’re going to fight it out.” She’s enjoying this way too much, but then this is the woman who bought me a Brazilian wax for Christmas, so what can you expect?
3. I’m Not Getting a Facelift
Oh, THANK YOU VERY MUCH for thinking I need one. I had a brow lift and eyelid lift done when I turned fifty and I’m very happy with it. The last time I checked, my jawline isn’t what it used to be, but then what is? So I’m not planning on one, although I’m not ruling it out forever, I might turn sixty, look in the mirror, and say, “This will never do,” and hire somebody to get my jowls off the floor, but this is the Year from Hell and I really don’t see myself adding surgery to everything else.
The important thing is, nobody seems to think I’m pregnant any more. I’m assuming this is because my face now looks so old they know I’m past my childbearing years, so always a silver lining there, campers. And really, when you think of the vile things people could be saying about me, moving to New York to live with my boyfriend and get a facelift . . . well, it could be worse.
And I’m sure that shortly it will be.
Hmmm… A term for an adult female’s requited love interest…
Actually, that suggests an acronym: RLI. “Rolly,” when speaking.
Or possibly, “Man I Screw,” abbreviated to MIS. That has a nice feminist noodge to it.
Oh, and you look great. In fact, I’m not surprised you’ve had a little work done, you look so good. So I’d say it was worth every penny.
And for rumor, you can’t beat the Weekly World News. I still laugh over the front page article entitled, “Clinton Catches HIllary with Space Alien!” Subhead, “I thought she was Gay!” says stunned ex-prez.”
I always use DH. But to me that doesn’t mean Dear Husband - It means Designated Hitter.
That way I can trade him if he starts to annoy me.
=)
When you turned 50?
I never would’ve guessed.
Seriously.
The browlift and eyelid lift were well worth the bucks.
I’ve been telling people that when I get married I’m going to call my husband ‘man-spouse.’ Because I hate the use of the word ‘hubby.’ So you can go with ‘love-man’ in lieu of ‘boyfriend.’
Perhaps they confused you with a different Jenny.
And it could absolutely be worse. You could be moving to a trailer park in backwoods Appalachia to live with Bob, who is getting a facelift as soon as he takes out your other boyfriend, who is actually the father of the child you’re pregnant with.
Kiki, my all-time favorite WWN headline is “Portal to Hell Opens on Freeway.”
Julie, did she get pregnant before or after she accidentally shot the elderly lawyer?
You know you have made it when you are the subject of gossip on the internet. The only place I can get gossiped about is on the bathroom walls at Steak n Shake.
Hmmmm, term for male whom you date…..you’re right, boyfriend is a bit juvinille. Better half sound like he thinks he’s better than you…..boy toy?
Didn’t the census already figure this out?? As I rcall, last census I filled out I was living with my boyfirend who bacame, per the census, Person Of Opposite Sex Sharing Living Quarters, or POOSSLQ. Phonetically, that ones a bitch.
Camilla, who lives in Tennesseee where they are still called paramours (or in the case of one really bad DHS typist, power mowers)
What about an old-fashioned word like “beau” or “swain”?
As long as he answers, it doesn’t matter what you call him.
Non battery operated companion?
Bed-warmer? Swain could easily turn to swine when you get angry, so that was definite potential. So does Non-Bob. That way you have your personal B.O.B., your writing partner Bob, and then your non-B.O.B. Although it could start a lot of new rumors when Bob and non-Bob get confused.
talpianna said…
Julie, did she get pregnant before or after she accidentally shot the elderly lawyer?
Before, definitely. She’s blaming everything on the hormones.
Sweetie? Darling? Significant Other? Partner in Life? (Oh, yeah, he’s a real PIL (-;.) I really like the “paramour” suggestion, though. V. Romantic.
Facelift? I think you look great! But obviously, you had a very good doctor on the brow and eyelid, so I think the two of you can decide the next move all by yourselves. Maybe it’s better to get it done while you look great (?).
Nonononononono, I* am the Jenny moving to New York and getting a facelift. Damn, why don’t these gossips get the right Jenny?!
Also, I love it–you got a real BOB and a non-BOB! I’m so jealous. Damn, why can’t I* have a real BOB as well as a non-BOB to move to New York with?
Boink-buddy? Or as I refer to my sister’s revolving door relationships… the flavor-of-the-month.
I refer to my hubby as my love muffin. Or as he prefers, love bag o’ nachos.
They’ve been referred to as “autonomous space-heating humidifiers” in my little universe…
Gentleman caller?
I like to call my gentleman friend, my enamorato.
I call mine my “man candy”. He thinks it’s funny. I think it’s funny. And everyone who hears it snickers. I feel the same way, though. We’re a little old for boyfriend/girlfriend.
A friend of mine in college called her fiance her Beloved Intended.
Oh, and who wants to be a nice person anyway? Nice people are boring. I’d rather be a touch evil. I don’t get walked on as much this way. (My mil still isn’t sure what to think. I used to be such a nice girl… well nine years of her son have changed that, I promise.)
Since I’m married and don’t have this problem, I asked my mother about a good name for a romantic companion for the adult female - she suggested ‘Toy Boy’, which is what she calls hers.
“Lover” always makes me think of the SNL skit. I always called mine my standing date. But I like non-Bob or autonomous space-heating humidifiers.
So - what’s this about you and Bob? I heard it at the plastic surgeon who claims he gave you a facelift before you moved to New York….
Ah, the price of fame. If only I knew what the hell i was talking about….
I can’t claim this as my own but how’s this for an alternate: Friend… with Benefits.
Sound a little too HR? Perhaps the ever popular: My Guy?
enjoy!
P.
You know, if you found yourself attached to a highly-desireable man . . .
a plum of a man if you will. . .
you might end up with a plum-BOB. . .
Shell, you’re giving us a line…
I don’t care what you call him - I just want one.
Lonely Librarian in Texas
Back before we bought the house and he became my baby-daddy, my friends called me & my boyfriend SPIDs. Sex Partners in Denial. Because, as his mom says, if we lived in Missouri we’d be common-law.
Rosa
I would use all of them, why be boring? Change his ‘title’ with each intro. Just remember his real name at night! Hubba hubba!
BW - Bed Warmer
It’s interesting to read all these names. It’s not so elaborate in Swiss, so we stick to “chéri”. But I really like the bed-warmer too…