Spin Cycle

(I keep writing and deleting this post, because whenever I reread it, it always sounds very Sex-and-the-City-esque, and that, my friends, is the equivalent of literary suicide.)


I wanted to pose a question about the nature of relationships: at what point does a happy coupling advance from worrying about how they look in front of each other--making sure every hair is in place, sucking in that gut, getting out of bed early to brush your teeth before your significant other smells your grody morning breath-- to the dark side: open flatulence, throwing out the phrase, "Shit, my feet STINK," and thinking there's no problem with said significant other asking for help with the task of unwanted body hair removal?

On one hand, it's the mark of a 'mature relationship' in that you seem to accept one another for who they actually are. On the other hand, no one wants to smell my atrocious feet, let alone listen to me talk about how atrocious they are.

And sadly, there's no way out. Once you've crossed that line, it can never be uncrossed--you can't go back. Those days are over. You've passed the point of no return.

Christ. This is starting to read like the inner workings of a death cult. Or worse yet, Scientology.

I think I'd better just stop right there.