September 13, 2007
"Seven years, three months, two weeks, three days - that's how long I've been celibate."
"So could dating 14 men in 14 days change all that?" I'll bet it won't change that, but it will generate raw material for a comical article about how crappy men are.
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Yeah but look at the comments: "Not surprised she remains "celibate" - self-obsessed, not prepared to adapt or engage, views a man as a meal-ticket and on-demand baby provider, and precious little else, typical example of the British female. No wonder British men are "bitter"."
A situation designed for friends with privileges.
If she were serious about trying to find a boyfriend she; a) wouldn't date 14 men in 14 days, and b) wouldn't write about it. If she's so concerned about her daughter, why turn her (their) life into a comedy sketch?
for every crappy man there may well be a crappy woman.
Now that's a weight issue, right there.
Amazingly, I agree for once with hdhouse, that: for every crappy man there may well be a crappy woman.
That said, I am not surprised that so many of her dates were still stuck on their ex-wives. Statistically, it is much more often that the woman is the one filing for divorce, and as the dropper, and not droppee (or divorcer instead of the divorced), and so I am not surprised that so many of her dates were so tramatized.
she claims her type is a young, sensitive artist. The problem is most young artists aren't so sensitive that they want a 43 year old single mother as a soulmate.
Now I'm totally confused. She used whingeing and whining in the same sentence to describe the same man. I had thought that whingeing was the British version of whining, but now...
She just misspelled wanking.
All this celibate females should let us talk to their gynaecologists. Or is insertion without pleasure not sex? Does it have to be fun to be sex? How is sex really defined? Hmmph....
Perhaps her problem is that she's looking for men in a lonely hearts club online. That term sounds like a haven for people with broken hearts and relationships.
Maybe she should try a more straight-forward dating service...?
She still has a long way to go to get to the major league record currently held by Barry Bonds...he has gone 2,632 days without sex...although some say his record is tainted by his use of steroids...but he simply equates it to his naturally shrunken testicles
Trying to recapture one's youth this way is indeed comical, though also sad. We're exquisitely designed to reproduce, from about 15 to 30. Our romantic inclinations, not surprisingly, roughly coincide to this demand.
But once this task is fulfilled, what to do with the remaining desire? It's a classic middle-age stumper: Why am I here? Why do I long to long for someone?
It can make for some very unhappy people. Humans are very, very flawed; but in our teens, we don't see much beyond the pretty storefronts. By our 40s we pay much more attention to the back alleys of our souls. Yet not too many folks clean up back there, even for company; laundry strung across a line, boxes piled high with letters we can't seem to throw out.
Perhaps it's why God made small dogs.
"Day One; Wake with a cold... don't feel like sexual contact."
Pretty much answers it right there--ice queen.
"Day Two: ...run me a bath when I'm tired..."
What planet is she on?
"...and let me talk about my day without constant interruption."
Here's a clue to all you women out there. Few of us men care. Seriously, we don't even want to talk about our day, why the hell would we want to listen to you drone on about yours?
"Day Six: ...the thought of kissing a man after so many years in the wilderness suddenly seems strange."
Now we're getting into freaky territory. If this woman wants sex, she should just go get laid and stop whining about it. At least buy a vibrator woman.
"Seven years, three months, two weeks, three days - that's how long I've been celibate."
As on old friend of mine would quip,
"...I wonder what I should get her for our 8th anniversary?'
He said he never knew that once he married he would become a monk; celibate, but without the robes.
"By our 40s we pay much more attention to the back alleys of our souls. Yet not too many folks clean up back there, even for company; laundry strung across a line, boxes piled high with letters we can't seem to throw out.
Perhaps it's why God made small dogs."
That's great stuff Pogo. I'm going to steal it.
I honestly believe that there is a reason why single women are single. This is a perfect example of one. She had at least three opportunities to do at least something with someone and she decided not to because of age mostly. At some point you just have to give up the goast. She's single, in truth, because she wants to remain single. She doesn't want to bow to the needs of another person. That's a completely valid reason, but then don't blame it on the men.
This lady isn't very attractive and comes across as very high-maintenance. I'm not sure why a non-desperate man would want a relationship with her.
Perhaps her problem is that she's looking for men in a lonely hearts club online. That term sounds like a haven for people with broken hearts and relationships.
Maybe she should try a more straight-forward dating service...?
Spot on. Or she should try showing up to places where interesting single men of her type might be. Interesting single men don't obsess over being single. They're busy being interesting, and if the looking lady isn't being interesting herself she's not going to find the right guy.
Quality singles of both genders abound, but they're not going to singles events or singles clubs or signing up for singles sites.
She's a fun writer, with personality and insight. She should go to writers events. If she's interested in artists she needs to go to art shows or other places featuring artists. No doubt there's a decent sized population of artists so dedicated to their art they never got around to marrying and now in their 40s they're open for something deeper.
I do love the advice she's getting on that site. "Just lower your standards!" How totally uninteresting.
I don't think she should lower her standards per se, I just think that if you knock someone off the list for any petty reason you can find (like age) you don't find anyone you like, and isn't that comforting.
I agree that if she was really interested in having a relationship with someone she wouldn't be answering lonely hearts ads in the local penny-saver. She'd be going to events and outings where she could meet other like-minded people who have similar interests.
I reitterate, she's single because she honestly doesn't want to be in a relationship. The article, I think, makes that quite clear.
I keep a tight hold on this cootch of mine.
I always clean up back there. It's unhygienic not to.
Grunt said...
"...she's single because she honestly doesn't want to be in a relationship."
Exactly right except for the honestly part.
She just wants to get laid but can't even be honest with herself about that.
Over lunch, we discuss why our relationship has always been platonic and if it would be a good idea to have sex.
In the end, we agree it's a "big sister, little brother" relationship - and he's only 29. It might feel a bit pervy.
Pervy indeed. He's "been one of [her] best male friends for over a decade" and now she's willing to risk a perfectly good friendship by inserting sex into it. It was obviously her sick idea, not his. She's whack.
Her other problem is that she doesn't honestly like men. Which is why men don't like her. Instead of 14 dates, she ought to try 14 sessions of CBT.
Pogo: Outstanding!
I think she did what she wanted to do, which wasn't to have sex but to write an article about not having sex.
If she wanted to have sex -- and write about that -- she should set up the dates and vow to herself to have sex with any of them who turn out to be willing. It would probably still be difficult after so long, so maybe for before each date, put $100 in an envelope. If you go through all 14 dates without having sex, then there's $1400 in the envelope, and you have to give it to charity. Might want to have a friend keep possession of the envelope to create enough pressure. And make it a charity you don't like.
I thought you said it's an article about how crappy men are. Now you say it's about not having sex. Okay, it's about not having sex with crappy men... by a woman who herself is really rather mean and miserable. The comedy part eludes me.
"she claims her type is a young, sensitive artist. The problem is most young artists aren't so sensitive that they want a 43 year old single mother as a soulmate."
And most of the cutest, most sensitive ones are gay.
Being gay is great. By the time you get too old to attract hot young guys, hopefully you've become financially successful enough to start paying for them. Of course, I suppose straight men could do that too...
What she truly wants is what every normal person wants -- to love and to be truly loved in return.
Focusing on sex is just a distraction from that worthy pursuit.
There was a boy
A very strange enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far, very far
Over land and sea
A little shy and sad of eye
But very wise was he
And then one day
A magic day he passed my way
And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings
This he said to me
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return
Or, to paraphrase Alfred, Lord Tennyson: It's better to have loved and lost, than to live the rest of your life with a psycho.
The major league record holder for having the most sex was of course the great Bambino....who generally had sex every 96 minutes...or had a hot dog...which most observers likened to a particular nasty sex act… enough to cause strong men to weep, women to faint and horses to be startled....on a barnstorming trip the Babe and Lou Gehrig shared a suite...Lou left the Babe smoking a cigar as he tickled his floozy de jur...Lou tossed and turned but couldn’t sleep for all the grunting and groaning....the next morning the Iron Horse said: "Jeepers Babe how many times did you get to bat last night" the Babe pointed to the ash tray and said "Count the cigars"....there were twelve cigars in the tray…the Babe of course couldn’t even spell steroid.
It would probably still be difficult after so long, so maybe for before each date, put $100 in an envelope. If you go through all 14 dates without having sex, then there's $1400 in the envelope, and you have to give it to charity. Might want to have a friend keep possession of the envelope to create enough pressure. And make it a charity you don't like.
Hard to argue with such an authoritative voice. You seem to really know what you're talking about! There's nothing like the voice of experience.
Now there has long been controversy over who had the biggest bat in major league history....Babe carried a legendarily large stick...so much so that the rumor was that he was black...the favorite nickname for him was "Nigger Lips" in a much more free wheeling time...in contrast to stereotype,Ron Bloomberg who is a member of the tribe had a particularly impressive club...as did Heathcliff Johnson formerly of the late 70's Yankees...packing a much more slender wicket is of course former Red Sox infielder Johnny Pesky who lived up to surname as well as the aptly named Wee Willie Keeler...I think this young lady's best bet is to go down to the pitch and see which of the batsman has the least stickiest wicket...and perhaps she can get past first base...or whatever it is called in jollie old England.
I keep a tight hold on this cootch of mine.
...from the little-known June Carter version of "I Walk the Line".
When we examine her photo closely and extrapolate from the positioning of her hands…we must surmise that this poor woman is suffering from what the Iron Sheik could have diagnosed “My friend, I must tell you that you are suffering from a bad case of the Camel Cootch.”….most often found in jump suited singers such as Celine Dion but occasionally to be found to trouble certain English ladies who squeeze into clothes just a size or two too tight
"I could dance with you until the cows come home. On second thought I'd rather dance with the cows until you come home." Groucho Marx
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