50% Success Rate
When people are shocked by the 50% divorce rate, I sometimes wonder if it isn’t more remarkable that 50% of marriages stay intact. What keeps them together? Is it love, friendship, commitment, devotion, obligation, guilt, greed, laziness, fear, or a combination of factors?
When people first come together, there’s a natural euphoric attraction that lasts anywhere from 6 months to 2 years. It’s exciting, intense, thrilling and sexy. During that time, they might also fall in love. After the euphoric stage ends, many people stay together and remain in Love. They replace the biological euphoria with a more stable, long-lasting sense of love and attachment. It makes them want to create a life together with all of its associated responsibilities and obligations.
What keeps 50% of those people from hitting the road to chase that euphoric high once again? (Granted, a bunch of those folks are cheating and not splitting up, but that’s another post).
Boys are Stinkier than Llamas
Hot Chik Road Trip 2006: Lu and I hit the road for a couple days to celebrate our annual journey around the sun. It was completely unplanned other than getting an oil change and having the car checked out the day before. The best parts of any good road-trip are the unexpected sites, meetings and adventures, the music, and the free-flowing conversation in the car. These are the conversation highlights … - Choose direction … EAST!
- Reminiscences of Lu and Steve’s trip to Montana last summer
- Leah’s 4.0+ GPA this semester (the woman ROCKS!)
- Agreed that cows are really dumb
- … is the muffler getting louder?
- Eve Ensler's recent article on the phenomena of body hatred amongst women ... MUST END!!!
- Groth and Birnbaum research on the psychology of rapists
- Secret Topic
- The stupidity of politicians who don’t know how to lie properly
- Decided that with proper training and a positive attitude, men can be just as good lovers as women (some, maybe even better)
- Changed direction … NORTH
- Female Genital Mutilation: Cultural Relativism vs. Absolutism
- Religion and gender oppression
- Secret Topic
- Scenic overlook (Illinois side of Mississippi River)
- Lu lamented that she’d never visited a vineyard
- Memorable shoe store experiences
- Lu impersonated the mating call of the Howler Monkey
- Secret Topic
- Decided that boys are stinkier than Llamas
- Muffler definitely getting louder … I need a new mechanic
- Stopped for a picnic in Black Earth, WI, which was delightfully interrupted by a phone call from the Secret Topic
- Went shoe shopping
- Loud exhaust sound joined by jangly sound
- Stopped at muffler shop to hoist car and admire the gaping hole in the exhaust pipe
- Explained to Lu why, although duct tape fixes nearly EVERYTHING, it won’t work to fix the gaping hole ... at least not for long
- Best Western vs. Thunderbird Motel???
- Opened 1st bottle of wine … and toasted my birthday.
- Secret Topic
- Nap (me). Barbie pool swim (Lu)
- Out for dinner: good food and soundtrack by Nora Jones!
- I mocked Lu’s admiration of history … because it was funny and made her squeal (and satisfied my need to be evil at least once a day)
- Kwik Trip: bought more alcohol and received abundant assistance at the map carousel from very friendly attractive co-patron
- Opened 2nd bottle back at motel
- Secret Topic
- Lu claimed sole authority over penile extension (TV remote control)
- Decided that Mike Myers and Vincent D’Onofrio are exceptionally hot … happily fell asleep
- Day #2: I took a very giddy Lu to a vineyard. We spent all our money on wine and returned home early. All conversation on the return trip had to be shouted above the sound of the rumbling exhaust pipe. Blasted the tunes instead. Highlight: Annie Lenox.
On Holiday
I’m going away for a few days to enjoy a little much needed fun and relaxation. I hope to get back to the blogging routine upon my return. Perhaps I’ll have some adventures to share. Be good while I’m gone.
Piss Me Off and Spank Me
When I go to the gym, I’m not one of those pretty, well-put-together women. It’s 7am, the fitness center staff won’t be serving cocktails and hors’douvres, and I’ll be sweating profusely. On a good day, I stumble out of bed, dig out one of each from my gym clothes drawer, don sneaks, brush my teeth and head out the door. I don’t even comb my hair. People with hair like mine never comb their hair. If I did, I’d look like Bride of Frankenclown, which shouldn’t be confused with Bride of Assclown. That’s several more levels of shame, humiliation and defilement below Frankenclown.
Needless to say, when I get to the gym, I’m fairly single-minded. I rarely talk to other people and they rarely talk to me. It’s not that I’m mean or grumpy. I just look like a poorly kept, chubby, middle-aged muffin-head … probably not very appealing. I’m okay with that. I didn’t join the gym to make friends. In fact, I get a bit disjointed when I run into friends because I have to act like I’m glad to see them. It just doesn’t seem right. At the same time, people need to be aware that they share the gym with other folks. Is a smidge of social courtesy and respect too much to ask?
So, the other day I finished the first part of my routine and was ready to move on to the elliptical machine. Despite the fact that my gym is huge and has every machine ever made, there are three elliptical machines that I fancy. On this particular day, two of them were open when I wanted one.
SCORE!!!
Since the TV monitor at the first empty machine wasn’t working, I plugged into the second, climbed aboard and proceeded to swing my happy little legs to and fro. Unfortunately, I was rudely interrupted 4 minutes and 38 seconds later.
A man-boy approached my machine and loudly said, "Hey, I was using that machine. I had to stop and take a break. I was planning to come back. I had to go take my insulin."
It wasn’t what he said. It was the how-dare-you-use-my-machine way he said it. Also, if he had included an "excuse me" or "I’m sorry to interrupt" or "Please, if you don’t mind", it would have made a world of difference.
I’m as compassionate as can be toward folks with Diabetes, however, I was shocked by his effrontery and sense of entitlement. The first and last thing I said was, "So, you want me to get off." Statement, not question.
He simply said "yes" without offering a "thank you".
At that point, I was tempted to move to a different part of the gym and use one of the other less desirable ellipticals so I’d have a TV. I also had a fleeting thought that a hot fudge sundae would be great for breakfast. However, instead of being pushed away by his rude behavior or lured by the comfort of warm chocolatey love, I got on the empty machine next to his and re-started my workout.
I was really pissed off. In fact, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. After a minute I looked over at his machine and noticed his resistance level. I upped mine by five more. Then I watched his pace and went faster. I wasn’t going to let that little prick beat me! By the time I was done, I was dripping from head to toe. I haven’t had that kind of a work out in ages. My ass still hurts a little bit. And I owe it all to that nasty socially retarded pretty-boy gym brat. Now, I just have to figure out how to get him to infuriate me every day.
Anger isn’t a bad emotional response to things. In fact, it can be a really powerful force for positive change. Instead of being destructive or aggressive, we can choose to be productive … show the bastards they can’t control us! I sometimes think about a guy who did that in this country a number of years ago. He used a lot of people’s rage to influence change … generations of rage as a matter of fact. Honestly, have any of us been the same since Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. shared his dream? If an angry man like Dr. King can re-shape a country, I should be able to harness a little bit of personal vigor to tighten up my rump.
Coffee Time
This morning I was once again reminded that I share my house with a man … a very twisted man, but a man nonetheless.
Me: WOW! This coffee is really strong.
Monkey-Man: Really? I didn’t do anything different to it.
Me: How many scoops?
Monkey-Man: Three, same as you.
Me: (sipping) Man! This stuff will put hair on your chest.
Monkey-Man: It must have been brewed by someone with superior strength and virility.
Me: (humoring) I suppose that could explain it.
Monkey-Man: (with enthusiasm) … someone with powerful TESTICULARITY!
Me: (looking at cup suspiciously before taking another sip) Ahhh … now that you mention it, I can definitely taste the unique flavor of testicularity.
Monkey-Man: By the way, did you get a phone call late last night?Me: (blushing) Yeah ... (quietly as I walked away) ...and I bet he makes one hell of a cup of coffee.
Anyhow, if you’re ever in the neighborhood, please drop by for a cup of coffee. I’m sure you’ll appreciate the subtle taste enhancement of testicularity in every cup.
Much Too Much
You’re too impulsive
Too distracted
Too imaginative
Too capricious
Much too much
You’re too reactive
Too sympathetic
Too emotional
Too demonstrative
Much too muchYou’re too zealous
Too exuberant
Too animated
Too energetic
Much too much
You’re too careless
Too trusting
Too passionateToo foolish
Much too much
Too fast
Too slow
Too high
Too low
Too hot
Too cold
Too shy
Too bold
Too much
Too much
Too much
Too muchMuch
Too much
When people are shocked by the 50% divorce rate, I sometimes wonder if it isn’t more remarkable that 50% of marriages stay intact. What keeps them together? Is it love, friendship, commitment, devotion, obligation, guilt, greed, laziness, fear, or a combination of factors?
