Food and sex

Last night, my soon to be ex-boyfriend said this:
“All my girlfriend wants to do is cook and have sex.”

And I thought it was just a really lame joke, plus he third personed me.

Then he said it again.

Perhaps he should start searching for a support group with people who share this problem.

Last night we cooked:
salmon tartare with capers and cilantro and chipotles
mozzarella, tomato and basil salad
spinach, mushroom and blue cheese ravioli

Yes, I enjoy cooking.
Yes I have enjoyed sex. More than once.

But please try to understand my utter astonishment at the stb ex’s comments. “Wha” in boldface appeared in my thought bubble when he said it.

It’s truly no fun to be 44 (as of last week) and dating for the first time in 15 years. Not a new lament, I know.

So, stb ex-,

I have silently listened to your “lite jazz” cable music until my ears are so bored, they can’t begin to bleed. I don’t care if you’ve never listened to Cassandra Wilson or Garrison Starr, or Elvis Costello or Aimee Mann or The Wallflowers, but just give them a chance, ok?

I’m 44; you’re 51. Big deal.
You should not be worrying about pulling a Nelson Rockefeller. You haven’t even seen my trapeze.

So gracious of you to let my dogs come to your home. Guess I should have warned you that their hair actually falls off sometimes.

I was a jerk and presumptuous to try and rearrange the kitchen cabinets while you slept this morning.

Thank you, and good night.


Who did he say this to? And what’s wrong with cooking and sex? Seems like most 51-yr old guys would appreciate that combination.

I started dating my fiancee 3 years ago, when I was 40 and he 42. He appreciates the cooking and sex. Grateful, even. He says he’s been more satisfied with both than he ever was in his previous 19-yr marriage (I know, he’s buttering me up. :wink: ).

Today he helped me build a flowerbed. Good guys are out there. Trust me. :wink:

Cooking, sex and Elvis Costello. Oh, honey, there are so many others out there for you.

NinetyWt, how cool for you! What flowers in your bed? After I left his house this morning, I went and got some Thai basil, tarragon and garlic chives. It’s about time to plant an herb garden here.

He said that stuff to me. Last night. Obviously I’m still rather chapped about it.

JonScribe, I live at the very crotch of the Bible Belt. If you have the longitudes and latitutes of Elvis Costello lovers, kindly share your map!

You enjoy food and sex.

He comments that you enjoy food and sex.

What a right bastard. You’d better dump that zero and get with a hero.

And, you like good music. Have you considered moving to Boston? :wink:

At the risk of talking myself out of a potential dreamgirl, is it possible he was saying it in a “I can’t believe how lucky I am!” sort of way? I know I would be doing that, if I ever found myself in his position. And, then I’d wake up.

A woman who cooks well and has a healthy sex drive. Wow! Complaining about that is like whining about your billion dollars in the bank.

Feed him a cheap frozen TV dinner, then tell him to visit Mrs. Palm and her five daughters just before you boot his sorry @ss out the door.

You can, should and must do better than that waste of skin.

We won’t even go into the lite jazz. I presume he adores Kenny G and Yanni. He’s lucky you don’t kill him in his sleep.

PS: Please post the recipes for those delicious dishes over in my new Recipe Thread.

Thanx, Grace.

I have a friend whose dad used to run a greenhouse here. He had left behind some historic daffodil, iris, & lily bulbs on the old home place. She let me dig some, so…

I have 3 or 4 kinds of daffodil, some Snowdrops, and some Iris. Now safely tucked into a circular bed (complete with some barnyard & sand !) ringed with bricks set on edge.

That he used the third person when talking to you is rude. I bet he won’t know what he’s got until it is gone. If you ever come West I will be more than happy to help you cook. :wink:

He sounds like my loser ex. The one who used to say the exact same things about me, and believe it or not, yes, he did mean them as a complaint. How he managed it, I’ll never fully understand.

The cooking abilities actually got turned into an insult; it was my fault he ate too much, right? And so it was my fault that he gained 40 lbs. during the time we were dating , because of course, he shouldn’t be held responsible for having any self-control on the maybe 1-2 evenings a week we saw each other. And those 1-2 evenings, of course, were responsible for the weight gain, because, of course, there was no way to compensate during the other 5-6 days a week when he couldn’t find time to see me.

The sex issue: well, I’ll skip the TMI, but let’s just say that at some point we definitely ceased to be compatible in that department.

Screw him (metaphorically, of course). If you’re miserable with him, it’s better to be single. I’ve been single for a large majority of the going on 3 years since my loser ex and I broke up, and I’m a much happier person for it. Why I stuck with him for 4+ years, nobody can understand, myself included.

Wherever you live, there must be someone who can appreciate what you have to offer, and who won’t make you feel like crap. There is no need to waste yourself on someone like that. A cat is better company; at least mine appreciates being well-fed.

I’ll second that! But it appears there are some people who DO understand the OP, so maybe it’s just us, ladyfoxfyre. :slight_smile:

I’m sorry, I can’t get my head around that.

What is this schmuck’s problem? Is he obligated to help cook every time? Do you two have fights over whether he can leave bed to go to work? Is his name Pygmalion by chance, and he expects you to act like his pipe-dream ideal?

Dump him. Besides, lite jazz is worse than Rush. Break his Kenny G. records and get outta there.

Wait. I’m male and I do all the cooking. Man, Lady Chance gets off easy.

And I ain’t saying anything else until someone tells me what the heck ‘doing a Nelson Rockefeller’ means?

Allegedly, Nelson R. expired while enjoying relations with his much younger secretary.

Our age difference doesn’t seem that great to me; however, to him it’s remarkable.

For CF and LF, I cannot really help you understand. I’m trying to do that myself now. It just seems that a perfectly nice man has morphed into a prick.

This is the first relationship he has had that has lasted more than three months since his divorce 13 years ago. I’m starting to recognize that he is kind of hermetically sealed. Whether he realizes it or not, the things he has been saying are designed to keep him out of anything that might have real emotional consequences (I think).

This is my first experience navigating the tricky shoals of a relationship since divorcing two years ago.

I appreciate the input because I doubt my perspective right now. Am trying not to feel washed up, undesirable and needy.

and i think we can all make some pretty good guesses as to why that’s so, from what you’ve said.

the original Mrs. stb ex- must have been a saint.
or a doormat.

Heck yes!

There’s only one right way to say that, and that’s with a very big cat-that-swallowed-the-canary smile on one’s face.

STB-Ex is a dumb-ass.

Making a big deal about the age difference is absurd too, but in his case it’s down in the white noise of sins. I’m ten years older than my wife, she was 24 when we met, and it’s never been a problem. Between a 44 year old and a 51 year old, which one’s older is really a matter of attitude. Where he’s old is that he’s apparently lost his joie de vivre, especially in certain important departments; he’s stopped being interested in new music; just in general, it sounds as if he’s turned into an Old Fart before his time.

Meanwhile, you feel like there’s life to be lived, new things to be explored. You’re ages younger than he is, but the actual years have nothing to do with it. You won’t miss him when he’s gone. And if you hang around here, you’ll prolly find someone a lot better in short order.

STB ex’s ex- wasn’t a saint, she was bi-polar. Cheated on him, took the house and business and sold both at a neat profit - yet now lives in a trailer, torpedoed his credit, left him to raise the girls, etc. And I must admit a real admiration that he didn’t declare bankruptcy and paid everyone every cent owed. As a result of all this, I suspect that he has developed an impenatrable protective coating.

I’ve decided to back out. Just don’t have the energy or desire to peddle my assets to him. I’d apply the putz smilie here but don’t know who’s more deserving - me or him.

All you do is cook and have sex? Is this like “Woman, get yer @ss outta bed and make me some breakfast”?

What a :wally !! (him, not you) Good idea, leaving him.

So, do you ever come out to El Paso (is there a hopeful smiley)?

I did want to mention that I think rearranging someone else’s cabinets (when you don’t live in) is um… scary. Those are his cabinets and he can keep them any way he likes, even if it seems bizarre to you.

It would be different if you asked him first.

An action that one person sees as “helpful” can seem to the other to be “controlling.”