There is a fairly amusing thread happening at Metafilter on the topic of a “study” that found women are less likely to get married the smarter they get. The study itself seems like crap, but the thread is an anumsing male/female mud wrestle.
The best comment so far:
“Which just goes to show you that 60% of us were destined to die alone. God, now I’ll be listening to Morrissey all freakin’ week.” – quote in context
In and among it is the comment from a female:
“Utopia is finding the charisma, sexiness, and intelligence all wrapped into one man who’s not an asshole, doesn’t lack self-confidence, hasn’t been totally screwed up by his mother, doesn’t refer to other women as “my baby’s momma,” can hold a conversation, isn’t a pretentious prick, takes responsibility for himself, has a backbone, and yes has a sense of humor about himself and the world.” – quote in context
One reply had this to say:
“No, utopia is finding a down-to-earth, no crazy-demands, slutty in bed but safe for mom, smart enough to know she doesn’t need to show off girl who’s not a bitch, doesn’t evaluate her worthiness by her peers’ opinions on her lack of diamonds and gold, hasn’t been totally screwed up by her father, doesn’t refer to men as “unnecessary necessities”, can hold a conversation about Star Wars, isn’t a superanuated priss, does the dishes once in a while even though Gloria Steinem says it’s oppresive, has a soft side, and yes, has a sense of humor about clearly mysogynistic posts that aren’t meant to be taken personally.” – quote in context
There were another few interesting comments… this one for instance:
“Cynthia Heimel on obsession:
It’s like this. Say you’re obsession-prone and you meet a guy. Nice guy. Smart, funny, pleasant to be around, friendly, warmhearted. Maybe from Colorado or somewhere.
You become mildly interested in this guy, he feels likewise. You begin to cast secret speculative glances at each other, you wondering what kind of kisser he is, him thinking he sort of likes your crooked teeth even though they may not be every man’s cup of tea.
And then obsessiveness strikes, and you start thinking of him while ironing your hankies. You go out dancing and wish that he would walk through the door.
And then, when he does walk through the door, it’s as if someone has shot a revolver very close to your left ear. Your throat gets dry, your heart pounds, you can’t act normal.
Symptoms of Obsession:
The last thing you think about before falling asleep is Him. If you happen to wake up in the middle of the night and crave some orange juice (obsessed people are notoriously thirsty), by the time you’ve gotten halfway across the room and before you’ve tripped over the coffee table and sent an entire vase of daffodils sprawling, you will again be thinking deeply of Him. When you wake up in the morning, you feel fine for a millisecond, then His name comes floating into your consciousness, bringing with it dark fear, dank dreams, deep despair.
[….]
You start walking around in his neighborhood instead of doing the laundry. Or even in the neighborhood you think he might frequent once in a while, since he once bought a pair of shoes there. (I have a friend who was once obsessed with a businessman from Cleveland. She took to lurking around Sixth Avenue in Manhattan, reasoning that if he were by any chance in New York, he would be down on Wall Street, and everyone knows that to get out of Wall Street you have to take a cab up Sixth.)
(from Sex Tips for Girls)” – quote in context
xxx