Dear Dr. Ding: The Case Of The Poker Paradox
Dear Dr. Ding
Long time reader, first time seeker of irreverent wisdom… So dear guru, I find myself in a politically incorrect pickle in this day and age. A bit of background: dear hubby & I are the proud parents of 2 adorable, rambunctious girls (2 & 4) and a 3 year old doodle dog. We live in excessively PC suburbia working hard to get by. No violins necessary, but it ain’t easy keeping it all together either. My husband has a law-school buddy who has quarterly (more or less) Friday night poker games to which my dear hubby is regularly invited. I want to say, “sure, go ahead! We all deserve a night out!” But…. Here are THE RULES (somewhat shortened):
• Drinks: whiskey, martinis and expensive wine only (NO BEER); absinthe for the post poker beverage
• Food: catered (good food, actually)
• Cost: $250 – the poker is reasonable, no huge bets, no “all in”, cash only
• Woman Folk: Nope
• Babies & Pets: Nope
• Rides Home: Nope & cabs are hard to get – So, plan on crashing or staying very very late. Keys taken at the door.
All very reasonable, right? Only here’s my issue. When hubby goes to said poker night (this would not be the first time) he drinks WAY too much, smokes WAY too much, spends WAY too much money and is exhausted & useless for the entire weekend. And in the event that I make any complaints known, buddy boy host harasses me endlessly for being the nagging shrew, ball and chain, etc., etc. Hubby & I haven’t had longer than a 3 day vacation in 5 years, and no vacation is coming this summer. Money is tight and getting tighter. In view of all that, I’m torn. I want to say “NO WAY” to poker night and at the same time I know he could use a night out to let loose. What does the wise Dr. Ding think of said situation?
-Excessively Uxorial
Dearest ExUx:
Dr. Ding hasn’t seen the word “uxorial” in print since she last read a cozy British mystery about a murder in the vicarage, and truth be told, it’s a very underused word. For you poor benighted souls out there who don’t spend your precious free time reading about WASPS who commit exceedingly diginified murders know, it means “wifely” or, in the vulgate “wife-a-riffic”.
Yes.
I’m going to recommend an outrageously bifurcated course of action: I think you both could use some time away from the kiddoes and your various other responsibilities. But mostly I mean you.
The problem, as you’ve indicated by your own admission, isn’t really the poker night itself. The problem, as Dr. Ding defines it prior to 5 p.m. cocktails, is that you aren’t getting to have fun in this scenario. The solution, as Dr. Ding would likely define it after a few bone-dry Belvedere martinis, is that you need to have a “poker night” of your own. We will get to this later. Trust.
Furthermore: don’t worry about the “PC” aspects of this issue; you’re obviously a hardworking, clear-thinking professional woman and you are raising your girls to be independent, insightful and smart like yourself. Political correctness is not on the table here, because having disagreements with one’s spouse isn’t always about a big, gruesome, pre-feminist, 1950’s military industrial complex-styled, Marxist power differential replete with frilly apron, rampant political oppression, pearls, and Valium.
Oh Baby You. You Got What Ding Need.
A few weeks ago, Dr. Ding was overcome by a fit of nostalgia and posted a torrent of Biz Markie-related posts and the following YouTube video on Twitter in the vain hope of self-adminstering a cure for my musical affliction.
It didn’t take.
So, here you go. Mr. Markie in all his funky, Momma-ranking, Mozart-bewigged glory. I’m including the lyrics after the jump so you can sing along.
You know you want to.
The Watchmen Trailer. That Is All.
100% Totally Mullet
Greetings. It’s summer here in Hellstown. Which can mean only three things.
1. I have the energy level of a slug in a mud puddle who just snorted up a couple of Quaaludes followed by a beer chaser aka 1970s Pornstar Happy Hour.
2. It’s humid, which makes my wrists and forearms stick to this here computer. It’s unpleasant.
3. The resultant torpor makes my grammar, pronunciation and usage of idiomatic expression come out all slow and rednecky. That’s right - Dr. Ding’s serum hillbilly levels rise precipitiously during the summer months. Which is why all I’m posting today is this here list from CaryMc over at LOTD.
You can thank me later.
Dear Dr. Ding
Dearest Ding,
I am about to unleash my inner Darth Mul but I don’t want to jump the gun. I would like to hear your take on the situation. I am a busy lass-working full time, grad school, and planning a wedding. When I come home after class, work or any other event, my fiance rarely asks how things went. Nary a how was class? How was work? etc. He openly expresses his hatred of his job and does not want to talk about it. However, I like what I do and sometimes would like to talk about how I spend most of my waking hours. I am rarely if ever prompted to talk about my day or anything I do in my life. This frustrates me and when I try to start a conversation about anything going on, I receive a one-word, snippy-ass answer. I want to scream with frustration. The only time I feel we actually ”talk” is when he has had a few beers or we have something serious going on. Am I being ridic about this?? Thanks for your counsel.
I Want To Talk!
Dear I Want to Talk!:
You are not beng ridonculonk. I suspect you’re in a relationship with an unhappy person with whom you’re not well-matched, and who probably resents the fact that you’re actually a) happy and b) going places in life.
When I first read your letter my thought was this: O my gentle GirlJesus™ someone please poke this woman’s fiance with sharp stick to make sure he isn’t in a state of (more…)
Dear Dr. Ding
Dear Dr. Ding,
I am sad to hear of the current lack of inquiries requesting your idiosyncratic psychomological wisdomation on various and sundry issues of the mind, heart, body and soul. I could always use a bit of sarcastic wit directing me to move on, up and forward in the world as you always do.
I have been surfing the web via stumbleupon.com and run across a number of web sites that are dedicated to Scientology. Some of the information that I have found regarding the practitioners of this faith/ideology is a little scary and out there (coo coo for cocoa puffs type stuff), in my opinion.
There is one site in particular that has caught my attention. It is called Ex Scientology Kids. This is a site set up by people who were raised in families that had parents practicing scientology. Some of the stories they write are really amazing to me. Many of them identify that that they have been cut off from contact with all of the family still remaining in the faith because of their choice not to practice the faith.
Do you think this is a real religion? Do you think it is the religion that may be harming these young people or is it the people who are running the churches/organization? I know there have been abusive practices in most religious groups at some time in history because of the person in charge, how they interpret the religious texts and their greed. I know you and I have had discussions about some of the fundamentalist churches in the country that raise huge amounts of money, have gigantic congregations and rich leaders because of it.
Share, oh Dingy purveyor of all that is sarcastic and sardonic. I need to know the GirlJesus interpretation of this situation.
Yours Truely,
Sci-Fi Scared