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Take my uterus -- please

Well then, I'm not a woman.

And yes, I tried that "look up... and there he is." For various reasons, it turned out that sort of thing isn't for me. I'm sorry there are a lot of single females out there who were not cut out for singlehood and are now miserable, but I'm not one of them. Can we quit playing this "who has the right to keep their organs" bullshit, please?

And for what it's worth, I have nothing against the whole Valentine's Day fuss either. It doesn't mean anything to me one way or the other. It's nice to see people having fun. So this isn't an anti-2/14 post.

Comments (2)

Annalucia [TypeKey Profile Page]:

Dorothy Sayers said in one of her essays that all human beings need three things: work, play and love. The last doesn't necessarily have to be romantic or sexual.

Have you read ``Lise Meitner: A Life in Physics'' by Ruth Lewin Sime? Published about ten years ago, still in print, a fascinating read even for those of us who find the physics part heavy going. Lived to be 90, never married, and apparently lived, breathed, ate and slept physics. When she wasn't in the lab or doing research she played the piano or went to concerts, and her relationship with her siblings and their children seems to have been close and affectionate. So she had all three ``necessaries'' that Sayers spoke of, though the casual observer would probably not notice this.

As for ``look up...and there he is,'' well, that depends on the guy. One thing I was lucky enough to learn in my younger days was that having no boyfriend/husband was better than having the wrong one. When you're alone, at least you can hear yourself think, and call your soul your own. When you're living with a stinker, you can't even do that. Some of these ladies have probably had a narrower escape than they realize.

Haven't heard of the book, may look it up someday. (I have a huge pile of unread books I need to get through first.)

Re: living with someone -- the one thing that made me realize that I was trying to fit the square peg I was into the round hole of a "relationship" was the fact that during my time before the mast (so to speak) I wrote hardly a word. He even set up my own little study for me in a side room off the kitchen -- it had the window I require for all my writing rooms, a comfy couch, a nice desk, and my computer all set up. But I couldn't write.

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Don't worry, he's just chopping broccoli.


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