Someday someone’s going to finally get around to asking me if I ever checked out the LinkedIn profile of my husband’s ex-girlfriend. But, I can’t wait to be asked, so let’s pretend you just inquired.
But before we get to the LinkedIn portion of this post, let’s talk about Whole Foods. Because one of Jeff’s other former flames is a super famous baker whose healthy and delicious products are sold in gigantic displays all over the bakery section of Whole Foods. Lucky for me her product has her picture on it, so it’s like she’s staring at me while I take those extra samples of the macaroons and pretend to give them to my kids. Every time we pass that section, I remind Jeff that he totally traded up: Sure, she has that medical degree that she used to create nutritious (and outrageously expensive) brownie bites, but I know how to eat them while watching Gray’s Anatomy. Natch.
Hey, Jeff, that’s called a ‘jackpot’!
Then, last night was apparently “Google Your Husband’s Ex” night at my house. He was sitting right there, so he knew what I was up to. He even gave me the correct spelling of her surname. “Giddy” and “drunk with a Puckish sense of mischief” perfectly describe my mood. I pressed “search” with visions of seeing her face (yes, I hoped there’d be a picture of her and her multiple chins).
Her LinkedIN profile showed up first.
“Look at me, all clickity-click-click-click!”
Her resume loaded up first, and the smile faded from my face. Fancy prep school, followed by fancy-but-socially-conscious-college (Ivy, of course– dagger to my second-tier heart), followed by uber-impressive joint graduate degree program that she uses to serve the public good.
Ok. Fine. So what? Jeff dated someone who can slaughter a standardized test and likes public service. Maybe she had a Studs Terkel fetish. Nothing to get upset about.
All this time, I am waiting for the picture to load. It took about 7 minutes, which was plenty of time for me to see her connections (lots of White House regulars and people I have heard on public radio) and visualize all the classic texts she’s read that I am only aware of because of a passing joke on The Gilmore Girls.
Readers, you understand, right? I wanted that picture to load, and I wanted it to load fast. I’m not saying I went on a full-out misogynist binge, but if she happened to have a hairy chin or a snaggle-tooth or two . . . Well, could you blame me for my petty fantasies?
Do I have to tell you how radiant this woman looked in her picture? Could she at least have sported some fine fuzz above her top lip for this inevitable occasion– when her ex-boyfriend’s under-medicated wife came across her picture?
Not only was she bright-eyed and very attractive, but also? Blessed with perfect hair. NOte: Neither of Jeff’s ex’s have heeded the siren call of full-forehead bangs, so at least I have that going for me. (Query: Do graduates of Ivy League schools just intuitively know to say NO to bangs?)
There’s a moral here somewhere. Maybe it’s “don’t Google your husband’s ex-girlfriends if they are super successful, skinny and got a blow-out before their LinkedIN picture.” Maybe it’s “don’t marry someone who dated Ivy League go-getters if you’re insecure about your English degree from your giant state school that specialized in agronomy (study of soil management and crop rotation).” Maybe it’s “go to bed before 10:30 PM.” Maybe it’s “get a life.”
All I know is that tomorrow there’s going to be a shortage of brownie bites at the Whole Foods near me, because I’m going buy them up and eat them in bed next to Jeff and remind him of all the ways he’s so damn lucky he ended up with me. (Then I will brush all the crumbs to his side of the bed and fall into a snore-y sleep while drooling on my Target lingerie– because that’s how I define success.)