Well, This Diva Sez

And so here we are. It's Friday. You've sent questions. And it's time for me to get around to answering them.

From Ed:

What makes a Diva jealous in a good way. What makes a Diva jealous in a bad way. Is there a difference?

OOOOOOOH. We've got a good one, right off the bat!

Answers to this and all your very important questions after the jump.

Now, personally, given how I feel after I've had a visit from the little green monster, I don't think it's possible there is such a thing as "good jealousy." It's all bad, and as I will explain, even the least likely thing can set me off.

The husband, God love him, is absolutely, 100% secure in our relationship. He doesn't worry that I'm going to leave him for someone who doesn't play MMORPG's. He doesn't worry when I start chatting with males, because he knows that, for the most part, I would prefer to chat with men because they're not talking about, well, men all the time, which is something I find a wee bit tiresome at this stage of the game. So, if we're at a party, he doesn't worry. He has no need to worry. And he goes on about his business, blissful in the knowledge that no man will be able to tempt me away. This, I believe, has something to do with the fact he is the King of Logic. Logic is always the bottom line. Emotions, he would argue, while nice, are a drawback because they get in the way of logic.

I, on the other hand, am a freakin' drama queen. (I am a diva, ya dig? This makes great sense in the scheme of things.) I love my emotions. I feel {insert Tony the Tiger voice here} they're grrrrreat! I feel they're the truth about who we are as human beings and logic, while it has its uses, is pretty goddamn boring. As such, I can get very jealous, at the drop of a hat, and, most of the time, it's for absolutely no good reason other than the fact I have a very good imagination. Picture the a couple at a party, split up, talking to two separate groups of people. The woman (me) notices something might be amiss out of the corner of her eye. He just touched her on the shoulder? What does that mean? Does he think she's hot? She's a blonde, for chrissakes. He doesn't like blondes! Goddamnit! What's she got that I haven't? What makes her so appealing that the husband, who is not mr. touchy feely, just touched her on the shoulder? Aiiieee. He's cheating on me! He's leaving me! I know it. I know it. Well, that's just NOT happening, ya hear? I'd better go over there and intervene!

And all of this is because the husband noticed a spot of lint on her black sweater clad shoulder and, living up to his worst OCD tendencies, couldn't stand to see some small bit of white marring all the blackness.

Jealousy is our insecurities at play in the fields of the Lord. It's the two-year-old inside of you who screams MINE! and starts hitting even though Mommy told them they shouldn't. It's your worst fears, laid out on the table, for all to see, because you're too angry and hurt to pull back and look at things in a rational manner.

Now, I'm not denying jealousy has its uses, because, ultimately, it does tell that special someone in your life that you do, indeed, care enough to send the very best of your own particular brand of insanity, but how healthy is that? Not very, in my opinion. Relationships are hard enough without a little green monster horning in and offering up its two cents worth.

Okedokey. On to the next question, from Michele:

Hey, can I join the divas club??? I wanna play, too!

Alas, no, we're not taking applications at this time.

But you, Michele, have just become the lucky winner in our Guest Blog for the Divas competition! (And no, I won't be sending you a pineapple.) Because of your willingness to lay yourself out on the line and ask the hard questions, you, my friend, are our first choice for guest blogging when one of us decides we need to act like Maria Callas and opt for a cruise around the Mediterranean with Aristotle Onassis instead of fulfilling our commitments at the Paris Opera. (Or when one of us decides to burn our house down, like Aretha Franklin, and must spend a few nights away from our beloved computers, hanging out in the Detroit City Jail, getting to know the little people.) You, Michele, will then get to put on your Diva hat and tell the world what you think about the topic of the day!

Congratuations! Your gumption, I predict, will take you far in this life!

From Kate:

How did the Divas get started?

Surprisingly, the tale---like all good stories---is a simple one. Sadie emailed Feisty, Silk and myself because she needed a dose of estrogen after reading more than few males whine about shaving their faces. We anted up, posted about the various joys of leg shaving and it was a great success. Hence, the Divas were born.

And that's all there is, folks. If memory serves, Our dearest Silk will be answering questions next week, so make sure you get them into her by Thursday. Since she's actually across the pond, I will be bold and declare that questions need to be in the divassez@gmail.com mailbox by no later than Thursday at 6pm GMT. Which, if you can't compute time changes, means around mid-day here in the States.

Posted by Kathy at March 18, 2005 09:50 AM