Strap On Your Funny Bone

Last night Ms. and I saw ‘Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby’. If you haven’t seen it, it is exactly what the title suggests. No deep thought, lots of ridiculous caricatures. Ms. loves movies like that… and I… tolerate them. I am a good girlfriend. I don’t understand exactly why I don’t find those movies as funny as she does. Am I missing a chromosome or something? Honestly, I do love comedy. I just seem to have not developed that area of my brain that can wrap itself around 'South Park'. Ms. can recite Shakespeare. She can quote Jung. She is far better read than I am. (In fairness, she’s also older – she’s had more time.) But we joke that I am the more mature of us. A few months ago I looked out from the kitchen where I was making dinner and watched Ms. sitting on the floor giggling to herself in front of a ‘Family Guy’ cartoon. It made me smile. I think our kids are going to like her better than me.

Kiss & Tell

Ms. and I work in TV. We met on the same show; Ms. has already explained this. When you meet either of us it’s not obvious that we date girls – we don’t look like dykes – which was a good thing because the show we met on was known to be a political minefield. But now we’ve each moved on and are interviewing for bigger and better things. Last week Ms. met with some folks about working on a new show and recommended me. Now, is there some sort of obligation to divulge our relationship before we’re hired? If we were straight and married would it have been easier for Ms. to casually mention it when recommending me? And in an industry where nepotism is an accepted hiring practice, does it actually hurt us that we don’t use each other as a boost, but interview on our own merits? Ethically, what do our prospective bosses and coworkers have a right to know?

~ Miss

Feathering

We’re moving. We’ve decided to suck it up and move into an apartment that fits our lives. Our meager furniture is going to look very minimalist in our big new place. But it’s something of a clean slate – our first apartment “together”. Ms had a very nice one-bedroom that I imposed myself on nearly ayear ago, cat and all. I did, however, organize all the closets and label everything under the sink, so it was a pretty good deal for Ms. But now, faced with obvious budget constraints, how do we furnish an apartment for that next step in our lives? How do you go about deciding to become mature people? Buying furniture that matches, for instance, or a complete set of 12 plates, or a Cuisinart, Belgium chairs, Moroccan rugs, ottomans from, fittingly, Turkey, $60 pencil holders, $115 for an étagère, a hutch made of American maple and tropical cane, finished in tobacco, what does it take? What is a hutch anyway? Is it entirely inappropriate for me to paint a mural of sheep herding in the Caucasus on the living room wall? It’s the first time I’ve considered moving into a home, rather than finding a place to live. Someplace I might stay for more than a year. What’s that like?

xoxo,
Miss