10,000 Ways It Didn't Work

"If I find 10,000 ways something won't work, I haven't failed. I am not discouraged, because every wrong attempt discarded is another step forward". --Thomas Edison

Through most of my early twenties, I was happily coupled with some “nice” man or other… each of whom I was convinced would turn into Mr. Right. But no matter how many times you kiss a toad, he does not turn into a prince. If anything, he gets even more toad-like. I never imagined in those days that I would spend a half a decade (so far all of my thirties) single and for the most part, celibate. Most days feels like a scene from Bridget Jones, straight down to imagining that my dead body would be found half-eaten by wild dogs… except in my fantasy it’s more like by obese, dog-like pervert cat, Tiger. I have no doubt that when he watches me showering that his fantasy is eating my carcass. It’s funny that in the years since Bridget Jones and Sex in the City, the answer still remains: Why are there so many unmarried women in their thirties? It is not that we are covered in green scales or that there aren’t any decent men out there. However, I look around at my dear friends who all are rowing with me in the vessel of thirties singledom and see some very clear reasons why each of us have found ourselves in this situation. I think it’s important to note that we are all fairly attractive, (mostly) level-headed, with a good education, established careers, and home-ownership. One would beg to even wonder why we would even need a man in the scenario at all, except that all of us have certain desires that no toy (or endless supply of batteries) could ever quite fill. And despite the fact that I can fix my own lawnmower and change my own oil, I want a man to do the “man” chores. It’s not sexism. It’s being practical. And part of doing "man" chores is satisfying an incredible sexual appetite. It seems to be a win-win for all. Except it isn't and never has been because as my lady friends and I are discovering living the paradoxical lives as fierce Southern ladies does not bring in the men, only the bacon which we can happily bring home and fry up on our own. So what does a fierce Southern lady do? And how does she conquer the expectations of women that run thicker than molasses in December? Well, she learns from ol' Edison to know the 10,000 ways love didn't work and perhaps glean some knowledge about herself and life along the way.