Be a post whore!

[Aliantha]

OMG...Oprah is on, telling her audience that 'women have to make men feel like they're winners (otherwise they start cheating)'.

Personally I don't think it's my job to make Daryl feel like that, but I do support him and tell him when I reckon he's doing a great job (which happens to be often atm, but I think that's a symptom of the happy time in our lives lately).

Aren't we just supposed to support our spouse and appreciate them and love them?

Since when is my spouse's self esteem my responsibility? Sure I care about how he's feeling, but I didn't hear Oprah say anything about men having to make women feel good about themselves.

[glatt]

Originally Posted by Aliantha

I didn't hear Oprah say anything about men having to make women feel good about themselves.

Do any men watch oprah?

[Aliantha]

Originally Posted by glatt

Do any men watch oprah?

I think we all know the main audience are middle class women, which is what makes the above statement particularly toxic in my opinion.

Are we going back to the 1950's where magazines and news articles told us women what to do to be a good housewife. Things like always make sure you touch up your lipstick before your husband gets home, and make sure the children are fed and quiet when he walks in the door, and never criticize him and oh, here's how to make the bread that he'll really like!

[SquidGirl]

Isn't Oprah a supporter of how its up to yourself to stay positive and think good thoughts...only you control your destiny/day type of thing? So, shouldn't the man be responsible for making himself feel like they are a winner then, too? I kindof don't get it.

Cheers-Aliantha!

I think by BEING supportive you are making him feel like a winner. My BF is super into mountain biking. When we met he was riding 7+ hours a day. I have been the only girl in his life that not only supports his obsession but pushes him towards it. I supported him in buying a $3,500 bike this summer as he wanted to 'settle' and get something inferior that he could deal with and just be content. The support and encouragement made him the happiest man...like he was a winner. I didn't have to "make" him feel like he was a winner, I just supported him. Yes, I think he still cheats on me with his bike...but that's an infidelity I can handle.

[Aliantha]

My husband cheats on me with his work if you want to look it that way. I'm pretty sure he doesn't derive too much sexual pleasure from it though. lol

[Bruce 9012]

Not lately

[Cicero]

Join date: 2005. Posts: 14. Huh. I am so curious right now.

[Bruce 9012]

Im back...?

[Bruce 9012]

Is that a Tricerotops

[Cicero]

Bruce is slumming it...

[Bruce 9012]

bleeechh

[glatt]

We always knew the guy across the street from us was a bit of a hoarder. "Treasures" were always appearing in his yard and driveway. Junk that he would find in people's trash, bring home, and store in his driveway for 6 months until you would notice it was no longer there. Broken lawn chairs, an old comforter draped over the fence airing out for a few months, broken wicker laundry basket. Stuff like that. Junk.

Well, over the weekend, there was a bit of excitement over at his house, and some guy was helping him clean up the place, and managed to convince him to throw some stuff away. He filled maybe half a dozen bags with trash, but during the cleanup, he had his front door open. The junk inside his house was about 4 feet deep just inside his front door.

Today, there was a huge orange sticker on the front door saying the house was uninhabitable, or something like that.

Guy has always been a little nutty. But now the local government has gotten involved.

I wonder how they found out? His place really wasn't that bad from the outside.

[Clodfobble]

We had a similar situation with a neighbor where I grew up. My dad told me a couple of years ago, all of a sudden stuff started coming out of the house. Lots of extra garbage each week, people occasionally coming by to carry out furniture, all sorts of things. This went on for weeks, until my dad happened to go talk to the guy one day, and found out the story: the wife was the hoarder, and she had died. The husband had just lived with it through the years as she got older and hoarder-ier, and now he was finally clearing it out, one cubic foot at a time. That crosses the line from dedication into enabling, for me, but I guess it's sweet in a way...

[Sundae]

Diz is becoming more independent. Which is great. But for a short space of time (I hope) it means he is being a major pain in the buttski. He is tired of living in one room and wants to explore, but isn't 100% ready to go out of the room alone, so he's being demanding, unsettled and attention seeking.

He was only confined to the room for the first week, since then the door has always been ajar. And I know what Diz wanting to play is like - and this is not it. He wants me to go downstairs, so he can follow me. Tough. He'll have to do it alone.

Also, I feel a bit grim tonight. No real idea why, just not happy in body or mind. Bleugh. Have to hope I wake up feeling better. And not having strangulated the Diz cat.

[Sundae]

Whoring it up!

For those of you following the Diz story, he is now trying to sleep in the small gap between my lap and the laptop. Occasionally resting his head on my arm until I move too much. I moan and moan, but I absolutely adore my cat, who is the best thing that has happened to me in years.

Anyway, I came because of the horror film thread. No point cluttering that up. I could do with a good scream. I'm not talking primal scream therapy or anything like that, I just mean the build up of tension and the release of fear you get from a real no holds barred all out scream. I've been thinking of this for weeks, although I've had horror on my mind for weeks thanks to Halloween I guess.

Funny thing is, the things that might genuinely make me lose control and scream without reserve... well I'd be worried I wouldn't stop screaming - ever. Bin looking at some of the top US haunted houses (tole you it's bin on my mind!) and I wouldn't even get through the queue. If I did, the first actor that jumped me would be the last. Not because I'd lamp him one, but because I'd curl up in a corner and whimper until security bodily lifted me - eyes firmly closed, fingers in ears - back into a well lit gift shop or restaurant.

I dunno, maybe I'm due a nightmare. Or maybe it's symptomatic of another kind of unrelieved tension.