Untameable




"How is it we both have 'ones who got away'?"



"Because that's the life of a bad girl."



Originally, I intended today's entry to be about Back to School and the quirks of my various professors, but that got thrown out the window when I turned on the tv tonight and the second season finale of Sex in the City was on. At the very end of the episode, Carrie stops Big as he's leaving his engagement party to the insipid Natasha, has a Barbra Streisand moment and, as she walks away, suddenly realizes that she's one of those women who can't be tamed by any man, but needs someone just as wild to run free with.



It gets me every time, really deep in the throat. Even the unfortunate wild-horses-run-free visual metaphor doesn't dampen the impact.



"You know you'll never be a good girl. That it will always be an act. You might even be able to pull that act off for a long time, but you'll really always be a bad girl underneath."



Am I really a bad girl? I guess I am. Bad girls are lonely girls, and let's face it, I'm pretty fucking lonely. Like, all the goddamn time. It's always there, Loneliness, along with Depression and Insomnia. I mean, I've learned a lot about how to manage and cope with those three constants, but I can't ever truly eliminate any of them. They usually don't hang out at the forefront of my existence anymore, and generally I'm fairly ok with life and all, but I know they're always around somewhere, and I have to be extra careful not to invite them in for dinner, because Loneliness and Depression and Insomnia are awful house guests that can take up residence faster than you can say, "You, Me & Dupree."



Bad girls are prone to showy decisions. For example, given the choice between quietly slipping in late or breathlessly breezing in with a sincere, "I'm so sorry I'm late! The traffic was just awful! Please, don't let me interrupt..." the bad girl will always choose the choice that will bring the most attention. And everyone knows I get off on attention, although I'm trying self-restraint more and more as I get older. Reining it in sometimes has its advantages.



Bad girls also have a hard time sustaining romantic relationships. They tend to attract those already attached, and thus often find themselves living the life of the mistress.



Being a mistress has its advantages. For one thing, the mistress can say things the wife (and here I use "wife" as a generic term that encompasses any significant other) never could, like the best driving directions form Point A to Point B, or how his new moustache looks like a moldy slug stuck underneath his nose. She can sass him six ways to Sunday and never make him mad. She doesn't have to pick up after him, or remind him to take out the trash. But while mistresses tend to go to the better parties and wear the better shoes and enjoy all the fine things the AmEx can buy, they also go to sleep at night alone.



And while sometimes a solitary bed just feels right, sometimes it just feels lonely.



Which brings us right back to where we started, about bad girls being lonely girls.



Us bad girls, we're so lonely sometimes we settle for something so wrong just to have another body around. But it always ends in disaster.



Having another body around soon ceases to be enough, because bad girls are really all mushy and romantic deep down. We live our lives like lilies of the field, going almost exclusively on faith, with the sincere belief that tomorrow is another day. We want to find connection with someone who understands, and we hold out hope that maybe that someone is out there: Someone just as bad, just as untameable, and just self-aware enough to rein it in a little as needed. A partner, not a body.

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