blogistential crisis

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google search revealed that the meaning of life is 42.

So I started this blog out of sheer desperation. Close to 3 years of celibacy and hermitdom made me nearly lose my mind. Then after getting a tiny taste of what I’ve been missing, having it become a complicated mind fuck and being “opted out” of like a mailing list, spinsterhag was born!

Then he “opted” back in. It’s still complicated. But I’m getting some sex. And that raging hormonal craze is calmed to some degree.

I’m realizing that more than a sex life I actually want a love life. And seeking love, seeking a life partner, is not en vogue right now. Polyamory, hook ups, casual, nothing serious, that is all what men want. Maybe women too, I don’t date them so I don’t know. But saying you are seeking a potential long-term/life partner cuts off so many guys. They want “fun”. When did love become so out of fashion?

Perhaps it’s just that I’m completely unlovable. It would appear to be the case as I’m 45 and alone. My being grateful for sex once every 2-3 weeks is a clear indication that I’m used to being happy with the tiny bit of affection I can get. And I am. And yet I long for someone who can’t stop thinking about me. Who wants to see me. Who loves me. How embarrassing it is to admit that I want that kind of love.

If I could only get a cat I could just embrace my lonely cat lady life and say fuck dating. I’ve paid for and am so far very disappointed with it. Lots of men who are around 60 are interested in me. Ugh. Many of the men my age deem me too old for them. And the ethically non monogamous knocks out about 50%.  I need to go on some dates but I can’t find anyone even close to compelling. I need some funny stories so this blog doesn’t turn into a sad angry feminist rant of a unlovable hag.  Perhaps it’s too late?

I’ll try to be funnier tomorrow.


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