Birds of a feather flock together, but that doesn’t mean we want to marry ourselves! Lately I’m exploring truth in the theory that opposites not only attract; they make for long sustaining unions. Snopes.com lists this notion as urban legend, but cites nine instances when a woman’s bra size made it entirely credible.
Based on past, personal (and polarized) relationships, even 38 double D’s couldn’t help my marriages, which went downhill faster than Lady Gaga belts out, “Bad Romance.” Now I don’t mean the Donny and Marie thing, (“she’s a little bit country, he’s a little bit rock n’ roll”) I’m talking fundamental differences. So can extreme opposites actually last?
First off, I’ve been married 7 times. Note: In reality I have two ex-spouses, (currently best buddies and both requesting next time I walk down the aisle, he should be a golfer with a fishing boat!) but they claim they’ll collaborate and sue me if I write about them. Like you can copyright aggravation?! Maybe now they’ll join forces to search for the stashed away five other husbands instead. Meanwhile, on with examples…
Husband number 6 (really #1 or #2, but shhhh!) seemed like your typical bachelor during courtship, but I soon realized he was a Sciencemathologist! (I’m a creative/emotional type — just in case fabricating five extra marriages and concocting the word “Sciencemathologist” didn’t tip you off!) He custom ordered Valentine Conversation candy with the periodic table elements stamped on them. I found this slightly endearing – – after all, how many chalky heart-shaped Pepto-Bismols proclaiming, “crazy4u” can you consume? And there would be instances when I needed the atomic number for both helium and aluminum, right? Suppose I simultaneously bought a balloon and a roll of Reynold’s Wrap? Hey, it could happen. Bonus: I got to brag about our “combustible chemistry.” But would that translate to sexual sparks or burned bridges? Time would tell.
“No diamond engagement ring, please. I’ll just loop some carbon atoms around my finger,” said no Bride-To-Be ever! Over the years, instead of anniversaries symbolized with traditional presents of paper, linen, silk, bronze and pearls, he favored titanium, sulfur, lithium, sodium (sodium got me a saltshaker) hydrogen, and chlorine. And no, that last one doesn’t mean he built us a swimming pool. My friends deemed it “quaint” but I wasn’t sticking around for the big ten year gifts — plutonium and arsenic!
A certain other husband was a painstakingly slow decision maker, fastidious planner, and tossed food out days before sell-by dates. I’m carefree, spontaneous, (nicer than saying disorganized and impulsive) and happen to know Dannon puts premature expirations on yogurt. Heck, I’d throw caution to the wind and eat day old bread, if I ate bread – – but that’s another column, my fellow Carbophobes. Needless to say, leaving the house together was impossible, let alone vacations. Miles ahead, I’d sneak through airport security, (harboring full-size tubes of Colgate,) while back home, he deliberated over the sink – – should toothpaste really have baking soda in it?
How was intimacy, you might inquire? Scheduled and organized. Or was that a game of “Twister” we played? (“Left hand on red negligee!”) Grocery shopping was equally regimented, with elaborate lists for a week’s worth of dinners. Who knows on Sunday if they’ll be in the mood for beef stew on Wednesday in the dining room? Or for Beefcake on Friday in the bedroom?!
But I’m not alone with these oil & water issues. My friend Tiffany (who won’t sue me) expresses herself with eloquent romantic phrases that Hallmark plagiarizes. However, her boyfriend (who doesn’t care enough to send the very best) is one of those “Love ya” guys. Only he won’t spell “love” correctly, so she gets “Luv ya!” And exactly what part of speech is “Ya” anyhow? Pretty sure it’s an exclamation like “Duh or “Meh.” If a man can’t commit to an actual Personal Pronoun, then he shouldn’t be “dangling his participles” in her direction. Today she excitedly called to report a revelation; he switched to “Wuv You!” Not wanting to shatter a Tiffany Epiphany, I said, “Congratulations, he’s one step closer to Kittenspeak.”
Footnote: As you read this, I’ll be answering the door to find both my exes standing united, holding a court summons. On the porch, a Bunsen burner and some stale Sourdough. “Even though you didn’t use our names and you changed our marital numerical order, we still recognized ourselves in your column,” they’ll accuse in unison. And I’ll be hard pressed to deny it – – after all, personality traits as distinctively irritating as theirs are hard to disguise. But I’ll finally have my answer… Opposites don’t just attract, they can attack!
Would love to hear about your Opposite Relationships in the comments section!