Posted on 08/02/2012 11:33:54 AM PDT by Sir Napsalot
(snip) ... Similar dating advice can be found in arcane classics like Advice to a Young Wife from an Old Mistress and the more recent Secrets About Men from the Mayflower Madam (who trained her “girls” in deportment and other finishing-school finer points).
Advice like: Don’t act like a slut (in public). Listen. Be gracious and grateful.
And don’t talk too much.
The Jezebels are outraged.
“These writers want us to go back to the ’50s!” they type furiously.
.....
In the July 4 Daily Mail, Sarah Bridge asks, “Are women like me too critical to attract a man?”
Here’s an excerpt:
Single at the age of 39, I’ve often wondered why none of my relationships lasted the distance, but had always put it down to luck and timing ....“Your problem is that you’re really snippy,” he said.
“Snippy?” I asked, not entirely sure what he meant.
“Yes, snippy,” he said. “Abrupt. Critical. If someone says or does something wrong, then you’re onto it straight away. Men will ignore a lot of things if they fancy someone — a weird dress sense, or taking hours getting ready to go out — but they hate being put down or made to feel small. You can be funny, but sometimes it’s way too close for comfort.”
Now, should you read the original piece online, which includes two photos of the writer, you may have other ideas about why Bridge remains unattached.
(Excerpt) Read more at pjmedia.com ...
Truth to God, before AND after marriage.
/johnny
Let’s see, how does that go....it’s better to live on the corner of your roof then be married to a nagging wife?
Women talking is why God invented white noise.
LOL - Captain Obvious
Perhaps you should consider the fact that the only consistent feature in all of your failed relationships is YOU.
...and politics, and television, and the workplace, etc, etc, etc..
Give em an education and boom they are equal to men. I dont want to sleep with a man!
My wife ever age. But I am blessed to be losing my hearing at a young age.
The mother in the PBS version of Pride and Prejudice is hilarious in this vein. Played over the top quite intentionally. She sometimes does the ol’ “run out of breath before you run out of words” attempt to squeese the last oz of air from her lungs.
It’s one of my favorite subplots. And the husband takes it in stride...
*sigh* My ex firmly believe that there was no problem so big that it couldn’t be talked into a coma.
Let’s say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they’re driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: “Do you realize that, as of tonight, we’ve been seeing each other for exactly six months?”
And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he’s been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I’m trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn’t want, or isn’t sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I’m not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I’d have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward . . . I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let’s see . . February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer’s, which means . . . lemme check the odometer . . . Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.
And Elaine is thinking: He’s upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I’m reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed — even before I sensed it — that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that’s it. That’s why he’s so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He’s afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I’m gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don’t care what those morons say, it’s still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It’s 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.
And Elaine is thinking: He’s angry. And I don’t blame him. I’d be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can’t help the way I feel. I’m just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They’ll probably say it’s only a 90- day warranty. That’s exactly what they’re gonna say, the scumballs.
And Elaine is thinking: maybe I’m just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I’m sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I’ll give them a warranty. I’ll take their warranty and stick it right up their ......
“Roger,” Elaine says aloud.
“What?” says Roger, startled.
“Please don’t torture yourself like this,” she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. “Maybe I should never have . . Oh, I feel so......”
(She breaks down, sobbing.)
“What?” says Roger.
“I’m such a fool,” Elaine sobs. “I mean, I know there’s no knight. I really know that. It’s silly. There’s no knight, and there’s no horse.”
“There’s no horse?” says Roger.
“You think I’m a fool, don’t you?” Elaine says.
“No!” says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
“It’s just that . . . It’s that I . . . I need some time,” Elaine says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)
“Yes,” he says.
(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)
“Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?” she says.
“What way?” says Roger.
“That way about time,” says Elaine.
“Oh,” says Roger. “Yes.”
(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
“Thank you, Roger,” she says.
“Thank you,” says Roger.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it’s better if he doesn’t think about it.
The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine’s, will pause just before serving, frown, and say:
“Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?”
Dave Barry
Well, maybe we should nominate your EX for the UN Sec General job.
LOL
My eyes started fluttering, drifting upward and toward the back of my head after only 7 seconds.
Then my head snapped forward and as I opened my mouth to grasp for air I turned off the video.
Parody too close to life and almost made my ADHD catch a gear.
Luckily I will be able to concentrate for the rest of the day now and think about other women.
I get all my snippy snark out online battling liberal loons and then when hubby comes home, I am mentally refreshed and cuddly...LOL.
:-)
that would be “Common Denominator” Sir....
LOL
It's a good thing I didn't have any liquids near by........my poor keyboard couldn't have handled a bath today........
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