Good question.
It was lost in a pile of irony the last two months.
See, a few weeks before I launched The Newlybed, I took a job at a luxury travel startup. The recession decimated the luxe travel industry and that, my friends, is what prompted the owners of the company to shut it down in mid-March. Their decision was telegraphed long before that, meaning that there wasn’t that much to do at work. Except blog, of course.
And there you have it: when you’re working at a company that’s sinking, you can afford to spend your days writing pithy posts and reviewing raunchy research. But when you’re looking for work, sparing the hour it takes to craft a column seems wasteful.
But, this morning, I accepted a new job. And The Newlybed is back!
* Sigh *
I know that this Richard Girling guy’s Times of London piece about the evolution of lust, sex and coupledom is really just about his new book.
I know that everybody wants to have lots and lots of sex. [Bragging about my goal to bang my husband 10, 000 times was one of my first Newlybed blog posts.]
I know that he’s only trying to push buttons when he makes overstatements about what women want from men and what men want from women.
I know his use of statistics is sorta clunky, definitely misleading and applied only to boost the flagging cred of his arguments in order to make the scientifically-sounding headline of “The Evolution of Sex and Marriage” not be a complete lie.
I know, after reading the whole thing more than once, that the assertion below his headline that “We can barely control our sexual appetites, but are hungry for happy, monogamous relationships” is just a big, fucking rouse.
But why does he need 2000 words to accomplish what even middling romcoms do in a single catchphrase?
As a sex-positive 3rd wave feminist, negotiating newlywed/newlybed territory can fun and fulfilling, but far from uncomplicated. So, when I think I can get away with it unnoticed, I indulge in small yet embarrassingly silly New Wife delights. It’s not as if I turn down the living room dimmer switch and ogle my sparkly carats.
No, instead I cherish the private glee that comes when I give my mother-in-law’s club card number at Safeway and the cashier calls me Mrs. HisLast. (Of course, when my relations do the same, I pretend not to hear them. )
I also relish the far more mundane (but equally satisfying) opportunities to co-write letter and cards. It gives me the chance to break out my Wedding Etiquette book on how to write stiff-and-formal notes; I warm up with a few polite phrases and then weave in as much sarcasm and tawdriness as possible.
Here’s an example of one we should (but won’t) be sending on:
Dear John and Ebeline, We’re quite sorry to have missed your open house last week. Word is that it was another lovely affair – no surprise, as your past parties were always great opportunities to cap off the holiday season with great conversation, fabulous food and delightful guests.
However, as a newlybedded couple, we have a social obligation to each other’s physical needs. We regard this spousal duty as intractable beyond all else. During the hours you held your open house, Mr. Abraxas rather unfortunately became taken by a fit of passion and we spent the entire evening in bed, feeling otherwise unfit to attend your party.
Normally, we would be happy to reschedule for another outing, but it is rather unpredictable as to when one of us may fall ill with this sickness. Last Thursday, Mr. Abraxas was feeling quite chipper; without warning, during the simple act of dressing for the party his temperament changed dramatically. As you can imagine, we would hate for this scene to be repeated in circumstances where a quiet, private room was not immediately available.
Again, please accept our sincerest apologies.
All the best for the new year,
The Abraxi