I guess I’m a simple scents kind of guy. I wear unscented deodorant and I don’t even wear cologne. The only scent I occasionally wear is Caswell Massey’s Tricorn Talcum Powder sprinkled underarm and in my underwear.
To me, if I’m smelling Arpège or something, and sense strong and less refined scents competing with it, I’m less likely to want take in all that fragrant wonderfulness than to wonder if she has to hazed back into womanhood every morning by running a gauntlet where buckets of disparate odors are thrown at her.
If you notice that your male partner inexplicably turns into an inconsiderate asshole every 28 days or so, could you please consider the possibility that perhaps he is not entirely to blame?
Also, those women in their late '40s or early '50’s, please realize that when you can go from crying to raging to happy to pouting to depressed and back to angry within the space of 15 minutes, that tends to make your partner a tad confused.
I’ve had dreams where my husband was doing something offensive. When I wake up, I am INCREDIBLY pissed off at Bill, although he doesn’t deserve it. However, I tell him that I had a dream about him doing whatever, and he sort of chuckles, and then I say that I’m gonna go kill orcs and goblins until I get it out of my system, and then he seems to relax a bit. The thing is, if I’m pissed at someone, I’m going to stay pissed for a while, even if it’s completely unfair. The best I can manage to do is to give him fair warning, and then try to work it out of my system (usually by playing some sort of computer game).
If he’s actually done something to deserve my anger, though…
“Let’s Assume We’re Equals”, and its close cousin “Let’s NOT Assume We’re Different in Various Kinds of Widely-Known Already-Established Ways”, are not optional relationshiip modalities that you and you alone get to invoke, embracing them in feminist self-affirmation then suspending them at other times in feminine traditionalism.
Let’s just ratify that as a fundamental axiom and establish that it ALWAYS applies, and I get to insist on it as readily as you do, and then move on from there, OK?
Ha! I was once at a play in a gay theatre with my two gay friends. At the intermission of course there was a long line of almost entirely men and me, a chick, waiting for the bathroom.
I was a big hit when I did my thing and came back to tell my friends I had dutifully put the seat back up.
I’m fine with this, as long as you(1) don’t then veto everything I like, especially when it comes to choosing dinner. Once you’ve said “I don’t care” or “you choose” and I say “Ok, ethnicitysaladsteakwhatever*” your next words had better fucking well be “Ok, I’ll drive”.(2)
(1) you = every man I’ve dated, a set that probably does not include the poster known as zoid,
(2) Or “ok, you drive”. Sorry, Really Not All That Bright, I was typing my example and missed your post).
If you want to go out to buy that green sweater you saw last week then go directly to the store in question, buy the thing you want, then go home. Do NOT drag us around to ten different stores looking at different shit for two hours before you eventually make your way to the store that has the item you came out for. That is just annoying.
Do NOT say, “tell me honestly how this (item of clothing) makes me look,” and then get angry when we answer honestly. If we say that it makes you look like a filthy slut well, ok, fine, get angry about that. But if it’s some totally innocent type of, “Eh, I think it’s kind of ugly,” then you have no right to get angry.
And another thing: just choose an outfit and stop wasting time. Who cares if it clashes/doesn’t match/looks old/makes your ass look big? Believe it or not, not everyone is going to be looking at you, and very few people besides yourself are going to give a shit about what you’re wearing.
And, BTW, maybe your ass does look fat. If you don’t want to hear me say so then don’t ask me if it does.
I’ve learned this lesson and it really has made my life better. Jim is a full-grown adult; when he says he doesn’t care, I take that to mean he doesn’t care and move on from there. He is fully capable of expressing an opinion if he does care.
descamisado, having had a fucking spider the size of a quarter (plus its legs) in my towel on my hair, I’m extremely afraid of spiders, now too! However, there is a nifty device for picking them up so one can take them outside and drop them. Search for spider catcher and you will find it. I have used it on more than one occasion!
Men, please, for the love of pete, do not douse yourself with aftershave and then throw cologne on. I am extremely sensitive to scents and good grief, I don’t want to smell you from five feet away.
Ditto the “I don’t care” then you better be happy with food we are having
See, I don’t get this. What’s there to be afraid of with spiders? What are they going to do, kill you? Probably not. I’ve never understood the fear of spiders. Snakes? Ok. Spiders? Nah.
How the hell else are we supposed to know if there’s not a better sweater out there? Women’s clothes comes in a truly dazzling array of cuts and styles, and we won’t know if one will make us look better than another until we’ve tried them all on.
However, I confess that I hate clothes shopping so much that if something fits and meets my requirements, I am liable to buy the damn thing just to get out of the store. I don’t want to try on a dozen garments. I might take a dozen garments into the dressing room, but if I try on the top and it looks horrid, I’m not going to try on the bottoms that I chose to go with it. And yes, I was like this even when I weighed 115 pounds in my teens.
As for driving, my husband says that my driving makes him nervous, and he hates for me to drive. Even on long road trips, he’d rather fall asleep at the wheel rather than let me drive.
Women: If you find yourself having to constantly repeat yourself when talking to your man when he is watching TV, reading a book, staring into space, etc., it is not because he does not care or because he is conciously ignoring you, it is because you talk…all…the…time and men seriously do not realize you said anything because your voice sounds the exact same as background noise to him. Once you say “are you listening to me?” in a slightly louder voice the man then has to access a previously shut down area of his brain to realize that you were actually talking to him. This is not the man’s fault. He has sub-conciously developed this mechanism to block out your voice as a survival technique.
i never really understood it until i moved to tennessee… when i lived in michigan it dodnt matter… but here a brown recluse bite can happen before you notice, and in a few days can leave one helluva permanent mark if not taken care of.
