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Month: October 2019

Womenology – 102 – Advanced Womanry

Part 3 of 3

by WildMan aka, George Palczynski

Everybody sing!!!
“I can’t get NO… sat-is-fac-tion.

To a man, it’s a song. To a woman, it’s… a good deal more. It’s a trope the world over. For women, it’s not a learned inclination. It’s congenital. It is essential yin. A woman’s general satisfaction had never come from a placebo. She can’t be talked or tricked into being satisfied.

Fact And Fancy
This is a cold fact. Men, dissatisfied, make no effort to fix the source of their dissatisfaction. Men merely, simply, digitally, restore the balance. If 0, then add 1; if dissatisfaction, add satisfaction. All nature is balance. It’s called ‘equipoise’. It’s powerful and it works. It may be the preeminent calculation to durable human sanity. Women are not without it; they resort to it. Dissatisfied with X, they’ll open a tub of ice cream, or go shopping for shoes. See! It works… alas… not to their complete satisfaction.

Why then are women so persistent in fixing that which dissatisfies them? Because women will not rest until ‘it’ is …BETTER. Cavil at it all you want, but it’s in their make up, and there’s not a damn thing that can be done about it.

When I was a young man, a nice young woman asked for help rearranging the furnishings in her apartment. Apparently, she was… dissatisfied. As this had been part of my skill set by which I managed to pay off my bar tabs and stay stocked with Lucky Strikes – I agreed.

She was a feathery girl, light of heart and spirit. She could not crash through life, nor would she plow through it. It, life, was not a jungle for her to clear a path through with a machete. She, Carol was her name, did not flutter through it like a butterfly, she floated and glided – that’s how feathers ‘roll’ – they float.

You can have your bits and pieces as you like them but I’ll have them as they are… as long as they are packaged in a sweet, sweet disposition. Carol was so ‘at home’ within that sweet disposition that I’m not sure which had been made for the other. Had that disposition been made for Carol, or, Carol for that disposition?

A Lesson, A Class, A Seminar, A Tutorial

She deliberated upon each move of an assembled component piece. This was my resting time. I put it to good use, observing her – body language, facial reactions, voice – tone, pitch, and rhythm. This was not purposeful. She merely, naturally, caught my attention, my interest… and curiosity also. It was probably the signal life lesson on woman ever given me. She caught me smiling at her taking earnest consideration of the most recent composition. “What are you laughing about?” Said I, “I wasn’t laughing, I was smiling.” Said she: “Well, it looked like you were holding back a laugh.”

I moved this there, that here. Gave her props. She moved stuff along with me. We’d… she’d finally got it. She redlined ‘satisfied’. But wait! “Could you move your end back a couple of inches”, she said, of the sofa. Sure, I hadn’t said, just moved it. There. I’d almost asked if dinner was ready. She’d promised a meal in return for muscle. It was crockpot stew. The aroma was wafting for some time.

“Now just a quarter inch forward” came the words wrapped in that sweet voice. I swear it, with the saints and angels in heaven my witness… she said, “Now just a quarter inch forward”. …I’d laughed hard in my young lifetime, but I’d never been poleaxed by funny before. The laughing… it hurt. “You’re laughing again”. I nodded – I couldn’t talk. I was near on my knees on the floor, sputtering/wheezing with laughter. I’d hurt nothing moving all that furniture. I was certain I’d strained a couple intercostals laughing. Was she miffed? Damned if I could tell – couldn’t see through the tears.

She could do nothing but wait. Eventually, I’d settled. She did ask once, “What’s so funny?” I broke out again, waving off any possibility of an explanation.

Happiest dinner I ever had – smiling, grinning, chuckling and eating. She asked, several times, (CURIOSITY!), what was so funny. Having finally got control of myself I told her… “it was ‘a quarter inch'”.
“A quarter inch?”
“Yes, a quarter inch”
“How’s ‘a quarter inch’ funny?”
” It made me laugh”.
“It is if it makes you laugh”
“You’re weird”
Spent, I laughed, weakly. She shrugged, nodding disbelievingly. I was, to her, at that moment, an alien, so far removed from female/woman that she could make of me nothing more than ‘weird’.

A quarter of an inch is a big deal to a woman; and it’s never funny. That can’t be said of ANY other of GOD’s creatures. That’s the bottom line as to what will finally satisfy women everywhere… the last ‘quarter inch’ more… or less… maybe.

Atonement and Over Compensating

A woman’s curiosity and desire had got us into trouble but her amends got us from the cave to the penthouse. Women have earnestly set upon restoring the paradise that had been lost by them, whether they will cop to it or not. Not a one of them may admit it – ‘at’s okay – at some point you just have to let go of ‘it’.

Women will work ceaselessly to make things better, better men, children, homes, gardens, meals – better, always, everything, better. It’s not for nothing that women have themselves a reputation for being difficult to satisfy. They are on a mission.

Not The End

‘Better’ is without limit there where perfection is not known to exist.
– George Palczynski

Never Forget

“Insofar as something retains mystery, it commands interest.”
– George Palczynski

Always Remember

A man is never so assured of his manhood as when a woman insists he is weird.
– George Palczynski

Vive la difference

And THAT’s the Happy Ending

On Becoming Unbecoming

I like words.  I wanted to be an English teacher.  Then….one day in English class, we came to the section in the text on diagramming sentences. I didn’t like to dangle parts of a sentence onto a hang down line. Like the adverbial phrase modifies the hoo-ha.  You know what I mean? I didn’t think it was fair for those words to hang down like outcasts so…..I decided to become something else.  They say you can become anything you want to in our country….I’m all for it!

But I digress…what I wanted to talk to you about were the times I was young and my behavior was unbecoming.  That’s what my Mom called it.  “Carrie, what you are doing is unbecoming for a lady.”  Where’s the lady.  I’m just a kid!

Now there’s a funny word!  Unbecoming. When we come into the world and become human, can we unbecome ourselves? What does it mean to act in a becoming way, anyhow? Is that like always going someplace and never coming back?  One direction only?  “I becoming, but I don’t be leaving?”  I’m not sure.

One way I was deemed unbecoming was when I sat in a chair.  I didn’t just sit on it.  Like a lady.  I’ve already told you I was very skinny and tall for my age.  Skinny as a rail.  (What is a rail, anyway?) Well….my rump was on the seat of the chair but one long leg could be over the back of the chair and the other one over the arm.  I could hang my head down over the seat so it almost touched the floor.  I could watch people upside down. I did that a lot.  I could have invented Teeter Hangups!!  Well, anyway, being upside down so much is probably the reason I have such a good complexion to this very day.

Mom said my sitting behavior was unbecoming.  But it wasn’t difficult to become myself again on those occasions.

I was unbecoming in my active state, too…not just sitting.  Sometimes, I could skip, hop, jump, and run all at the same time.  Mother said I was always in Perpetual Motion.  She sometimes called me Perpetual, for short.  I unbecame myself from that state when it was bedtime.  I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.  That’s what my Mom said.   I heard her breathe a deep sigh (of relief?) when she closed the bedroom door. I guess, after all, it was time for me to become asleep.  I always had a lot of things planned for the next day!

Yesirree, old Perpetual’s going to be in motion again tomorrow!!

Finding Mr Darcy Today

Jane Austen had the right idea: have a man fall in love with you, without holding hands or sharing a kiss. Wouldn’t that just be the challenge of all challenges, to have a man declare his love without laying a hand on you?

Now please understand, dear reader, that I am not making a case for toying with a man’s affections. Not really. Maybe a little…anyway, just like the age-old question of can men and women just be friends, can they fall in love without physical contact?

I think it’s possible; I mean, look at the Duggers – those girls were only allowed a quick “side” hug with their beaus before the wedding day. And the boys seem to be fine young men…well, except that one brother, but let’s not get into that…

I believe it is possible…I mean, we hear about people meeting their soulmate on sites like Match.com or e-Harmony…and out of all those couples, how many actually make it?

I have no answers, so don’t look at me.

As we look at “what was then,” how does it compare to “now?” Marriages back in the old days were usually ones of advantage, or if it was nobility, to strengthen a family’s bloodline. It’s still done today, or at least back in the 1970’s – I went to high school with a beautiful young lady who had an arranged marriage, and last I heard, they were still together. She met him three times before their wedding date. No, her family didn’t belong to some religious cult; her father was Egyptian, her mother was French, and this is what they decided for her. I guess she could have said no, but who knows what the ramifications would have been?

Anyway, back to Jane… people would make plans to spend a week at someone’s house, usually for a party or some sort of gathering. You attended, you met someone whose background was “appropriate” and exchanged letters….then if all went according to plan, you got married, after seeing each other a few times in the company of others. It was their version of speed dating.

All in all…maybe not such a bad thing? No matter how revealing or hot and heavy the letters were, they still had tons to discover about each other. And the divorce rate was quite low, as it was frowned upon greatly, unless you were a man whose wife cheated openly (except for mistresses of Kings, but that’s another story.)

I would like to hear your thoughts, dear readers…is this something that could work today?