My Boyfriend and My Inner-Freak
My all time favorite episode of Sex and the City was: "Freak Show"
Carrie meets this totally normal and delicious man, Ben, but decides that he can't be real, he can't be as good as that, and she thinks he must be hiding some weird freakiness.
Miranda: I'm sorry, if a man is over thirty and single, there's something wrong with him. It's Darwinian. They're being weeded out or propogating the species.
Carrie: Okay, well, what about us?
Miranda: We're just choosy.
So after spending the night at his place the first time, she wakes up the next morning, and he tells her that he is going to go out and play soccer with his friends, as it is his Sunday morning tradition. But he would be back in a couple of hours. As soon as he leaves, she starts hunting through his apartment for signs of his inner freak: she opens his fridge, his drawers, flips through things on his desk looking for any clue. Finally while looking through his closet she finds a little box, and tries to open it. And she can't. So she finds a screwdriver and tries to pry it open. It is a glorious scene, she is standing on his bed, hair a complete mess, cigarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth, frantically trying to open the box she is sure holds some deep dark secret to Ben's past. At this point, Ben walks into the bedroom.
She looks up. Then looks at herself. He is completely shocked, however, he calmly walks over to her and takes the box from her hand, and sits down on the bed. And then he easily opens the box, by simply sliding the top off. Inside are old boyscout patches and knick knacks. He then tells her that he came back, because he decided he would rather spend Sunday morning with her than playing soccer. And he had thought she was different. But apparently she was a freak too. And he asked her to leave, and never contact him again.
The last scene is Carrie walking back to her apartment, having recovered from her psycho episode and concluding that everyone has an inner freak, and you just have to find the person who accepts that in you.
That episode first aired in 1999. But even back then, I thought, yep...I need to find someone who accepts my inner freak.
So, fastforward to last summer. One day my boyfriend left me alone in his apartment for a short while...long enough for me to become the freaky super sleuth. I was checking out the clothes in his closet, his sock drawer, his underwear drawer...anything that opened, I opened it. And while I was doing it, I knew it was wrong. But it was like I was on crack. I couldn't help myself...these closets and drawers possibly held secrets about my boyfriend, and I HAD to know it all! Restraint just wasn't an option. So I walk into the bathroom, and eyed the bathroom mirror...and I was about to open that, but for some reason, a little voice in me said to stop the madness. So I did, and I didn't whip that thing open...and the search for his "box of freakdom" episode was over.
By the time my boyfriend came home again, I had reverted back to the sweet-non-freaky girlfriend. Later in the evening, I needed a Tylenol, and asked him if he had any. And he said: "Yeah, there's some in the cabinet behind the bathroom mirror." And I then said something like, "you don't mind if I go open it, and get some?" And he replied, chuckling: "Oh, don't act as if you haven't been through all my cabinets, closets and drawers the minute I was out the door today." Man, I think I started to fall in love with him in that instant.
And that kind of has set the pace since. He is the former Eagle Scout, I dropped out of Girl Scouts when I figured out I wasn't going to meet any hot guys there. I spazz, he just laughs at me. I am a drama queen, he rolls his eyes. I am the freak, and he is the normal one.
Once again, a parable of Sex and the City was right: Love me, love my inner-freak.
(Note to all men reading this: I am not proud that I snooped, and not all women succomb to the urge, however if you leave us alone in your apartment, the likelihood is very high. A similar situation would be to tell you guys that we had naked pics posted at some website, but asked you to please not go there. Trust me...99% of guys would.)
Carrie meets this totally normal and delicious man, Ben, but decides that he can't be real, he can't be as good as that, and she thinks he must be hiding some weird freakiness.
Miranda: I'm sorry, if a man is over thirty and single, there's something wrong with him. It's Darwinian. They're being weeded out or propogating the species.
Carrie: Okay, well, what about us?
Miranda: We're just choosy.
So after spending the night at his place the first time, she wakes up the next morning, and he tells her that he is going to go out and play soccer with his friends, as it is his Sunday morning tradition. But he would be back in a couple of hours. As soon as he leaves, she starts hunting through his apartment for signs of his inner freak: she opens his fridge, his drawers, flips through things on his desk looking for any clue. Finally while looking through his closet she finds a little box, and tries to open it. And she can't. So she finds a screwdriver and tries to pry it open. It is a glorious scene, she is standing on his bed, hair a complete mess, cigarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth, frantically trying to open the box she is sure holds some deep dark secret to Ben's past. At this point, Ben walks into the bedroom.
She looks up. Then looks at herself. He is completely shocked, however, he calmly walks over to her and takes the box from her hand, and sits down on the bed. And then he easily opens the box, by simply sliding the top off. Inside are old boyscout patches and knick knacks. He then tells her that he came back, because he decided he would rather spend Sunday morning with her than playing soccer. And he had thought she was different. But apparently she was a freak too. And he asked her to leave, and never contact him again.
The last scene is Carrie walking back to her apartment, having recovered from her psycho episode and concluding that everyone has an inner freak, and you just have to find the person who accepts that in you.
That episode first aired in 1999. But even back then, I thought, yep...I need to find someone who accepts my inner freak.
So, fastforward to last summer. One day my boyfriend left me alone in his apartment for a short while...long enough for me to become the freaky super sleuth. I was checking out the clothes in his closet, his sock drawer, his underwear drawer...anything that opened, I opened it. And while I was doing it, I knew it was wrong. But it was like I was on crack. I couldn't help myself...these closets and drawers possibly held secrets about my boyfriend, and I HAD to know it all! Restraint just wasn't an option. So I walk into the bathroom, and eyed the bathroom mirror...and I was about to open that, but for some reason, a little voice in me said to stop the madness. So I did, and I didn't whip that thing open...and the search for his "box of freakdom" episode was over.
By the time my boyfriend came home again, I had reverted back to the sweet-non-freaky girlfriend. Later in the evening, I needed a Tylenol, and asked him if he had any. And he said: "Yeah, there's some in the cabinet behind the bathroom mirror." And I then said something like, "you don't mind if I go open it, and get some?" And he replied, chuckling: "Oh, don't act as if you haven't been through all my cabinets, closets and drawers the minute I was out the door today." Man, I think I started to fall in love with him in that instant.
And that kind of has set the pace since. He is the former Eagle Scout, I dropped out of Girl Scouts when I figured out I wasn't going to meet any hot guys there. I spazz, he just laughs at me. I am a drama queen, he rolls his eyes. I am the freak, and he is the normal one.
Once again, a parable of Sex and the City was right: Love me, love my inner-freak.
(Note to all men reading this: I am not proud that I snooped, and not all women succomb to the urge, however if you leave us alone in your apartment, the likelihood is very high. A similar situation would be to tell you guys that we had naked pics posted at some website, but asked you to please not go there. Trust me...99% of guys would.)
posted by CaliValleyGirl at 6:09 PM
5 Comments:
Hmmm.... I never had a chance to do this - so I have no idea now if I would have of not! Of course after 26 years I know about most everything my husband has in the house... *grin* my problem is finding the stuff I want if he puts it away - THEN you'll see me tearing the house up!
Heh. I have an inner freak too. Not only did I check his wallet id out when we first met, when I came back here, I did one of those 'history checks' through the internet. $50, and I knew his history for the past 10 years. The romantic in me was horrified, but from a purely realist viewpoint, I had to know if this guy was up front. He was, and he is.
Teresa....you missed out on some deviant behavior...;-)
Sue,
I admit to Google-stalking him, too. But a background check? Now that's awesome! Lol...And I know what you mean about being horrified. My biggest fear was finding "something"...what would I have done then? It couldn't be used as evidence in a court-of-relationship...I would just have to wait it out, or reveal my search without a warrant...oh man...I scare myself.
oh, I would look in a heartbeat.
Luckily the hubby came about by personal referral from a long time friend. So I could skip the background check.
For being a freak, I caught a guy in college lying to me. I gave him every opportunity to tell the truth and when he didn't I finally let him have it. That was the downhill spiral to the end of the relationship. I had so little faith in him that when I found myself driving by his house to make sure he was home when he said he was home - I ended the relationship.
My hubby on the other hand has removed photos of girls from his photo albums. He claims he doesn't want to remember since now he has men. That still gets the raised eyebrow but I will just go with it.
HH6
AKA Miss Stella
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