Secret Number 5ish of a Pilot's Wife: HIND sight, is 20/20…. And its Bigger. Awesome.

So the other day I left the jewelry store (new job) to grab a tea and ended up in line behind a large bottomed brunette. Now I am all for large bottoms, and have always had one myself, but let me tell you more about this particular bottom.

It was larger than mine and wearing an ugly pair of jeans. It was attached to a pair of legs and feet wearing equally ugly shoes, and a torso that was wearing a shirt I wouldn’t be caught dead painting in, much less in public wearing. I couldn’t help but stare at this particular girl's hindside mostly because all I could think about was the fact that James had seen it naked, and had enjoyed 3 of his college years bending it over and doing things you do when naked bottoms are presented in such a manner.

Yes thats right. I was in line behind the girl James dated before me.

Why do I do this to myself? Picture graphic images of him having sex with her? Of her moaning as he made love to her? Because I’m a typical woman who insists on letting her brain meander to the worst places. The places that could poke and prod at my insecurity and justify my right as a woman to weigh myself after every poop and stare in the mirror each morning looking for each imperfection...

It’s the same reason most of us look at skinny skeletal women and think “I wish” only to go home and stand naked grabbing our extra jiggle bits. It’s the same reason most of us insist on knowing who our husbands or boyfriends have dated insist on asking if they were skinnier / prettier / smarter / funnier / better in bed than us. If you have never ever wondered at least just one of these things just one brief time then congratulations you are completely fucked up and the rest of us hate you.


But this time,I decided to turn it around.

Number one in operation make myself feel better:

I told myself that in ‘hind sight’ James had upgraded. Clearly.

Now I know how shallow that sounds but I had heard from just about anyone who ever met this particular ex, that she was not all too bright. James had, according to all who knew her, dated her due to the fact that his previous girlfriends spent their times together mind fucking him and playing head games and frankly this one, didn’t seem to have the mental capacity to put him through the same crap.

Number Two in operation make myself feel better:

Remeber that she was a way to simplify things and keep him company at the same time. That I wasn't just shallow, and that she could not have had the mental relationship I have with James. Its not my fault James dated someone who never developed past the 'embryonic stage' intellectually.

Eventually she got sick of having to hear intelligent conversations and cheated on him with some guy who enjoyed acting out video game anime stories at conventions in his spare time, and was on par with her level of brain activity.

Number three in operation make myself feel better:

Confidently I could say I won on both fronts (looks and brains).

I was clearly better looking and had more personality than a pudding cup. I enjoyed taking care of my appearance and she didn't (something I vaguely remembered James being bothered by when dating her).

To make matters more pathetic, I felt the need to let her know I recognized her (I met her once at a party) and introduce myself as “James’ Wife”

Number four in operation make myself feel better

Offer my hand donning my 1+ carat diamond engagement ring on with my freshly polished finger nails for the indroduction.

I took lemons and made a lemon zinger.

And with the above steps I survied the dreaded ex girlfriend run in.