Kudos to you for getting so clear about want you want, even if that realisation was partially induced by a morphine high.

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Nothing to be ashamed of at all. Admitting what you really want is the first step to getting it.

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My darling Elizabeth… We may have come to the same realisation recently and this concerns me… are we such wonderful slutty and powerful amazon (but hot ones not scary ones) women a dying breed?

I recently decided I can’t stand living with my roomie any more… I love her to pieces but she’s FILTHY and I hate it. Everything I like/want is just a wee bit out of my price range and in my head I’m like, “Well Hunter, if you had a manfriend you’d be able to split rent on a stunning one bedroom by the lake.” But no such luck.

Then another thing happened… on the weekend my arm went totally numb – like left side, OMG am I having a stroke numb?! I spent hours in the hospital alone and thought to myself, “Self, wouldn’t it be awesome if there was a manfriend here to keep you company.”

I’m officially over the ex, but being over my bed hopping ways… seems harder. Do I have to stop bed hopping to find a real manfriend??

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I’ve had two hip ops, one just a plain arthroscopy with cartilage debridement and the second as the first but with an open cor…never mind, I have scars similar to the ones you mention. Which are now v faint lines, even the one running from my hip to my groin is hardly visible a year later.
My best advice is you’ll soon be okay underneath and on your side but don’t go on top for a while (ouch!). Spoons good. Oh, and avoid the wider-hipped fellow (no props) as the groin strain is horrendous and will make you (read: me*) walk like John Wayne for a week.
(*prop and I gave up as he had a bad knee and I had a bad hip, and he was too bulky for spooning.)
Get well soon.

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Really?!!!?!?!?! You?!?!?!?!? Want a boyfriend?!?!?! If not for the rapidity with which I’m able to manoeuver my forearm in front of my face my computer screen would be covered with breakfast…..

…alas, my computer has been spared, but the oh so soft cotton of my shirt is no longer and my forearm resembles dried “throw up”…but congrats (I think) on realizing that you want a boyfriend.

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@Sam – bite me! and wash your shirt / arm before you come to visit…

@Dotti – Thanks so much for the input, love hearing from a fellow limpee, that there is light at the end of the cripple tunnel! We should hang out. Near rugby players…?

@Shans – hope you are feeling better. I don’t know if bed hopping goes with manfriend-finding. Why don’t you try avec bed-hopping and I’ll try it sans (while healing) and we can report back…

@P.S. and Becky – thanks my lovelies! appreciate the supportive tones. xx

now – i’ve admitted it. Where do I find one of these “boyfriends”? Is there some sort of 12 step program?

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I call bullshit!

But in the most friendly and supportive way. Seriously! Because though technically I don’t really know you. I heart you. So it is definitely in a one friend looking out for another friend way.

So here’s what I’m thinking. Have you ever seen that sex and the city episode. Where Samantha gets sick with the flu. And she’s in her brand new apartment (that she owns and thus has no super?)….well for those that haven’t (which really is shameful but I’ll let it slide)…Samantha is sick…she has huge windows…the curtain rod falls…and she can’t keep the blinding light out…she can’t fix the rod…but doesn’t have a man to call to come fix it (ps…I’m pretty sure there’s a section called “handyman” in the yellow pages…just sayin’)…and so she’s sick…and feeling alone…and very lonely…and thinks a life partner might be just the thing….

But then!!! She gets better…the flu is healed…symptoms gone…and she’s back in full swing…and when questioned about it by Carrie she says something about…being delerious etc.

So what’s my point? My point is…sometimes it sucks a bit….being single. This is true. Like when you have a boyfriend…at least there’s someone who HAS to go camping with you (oh…but…wait…Mega Love always said we’d go…and then 6 years later…still no woodsy action…hmm…interesting)…and on New Years…there’s always a garaunteed hangout…and on a friday night when you want a fucking DQ blizzard…it would feeling really lame being chubby and getting ice cream on a friday night…but with your man by your side??? suddenly it’s ice cream (no shame) and then some sex woohoo!…so I get it…a man…that’s yours…can be good

But I still call bullshit…on possibly both of you (Shans seems more interested in a benefactor so I can let that slide)…maybe you do really want a man…but I’m thinking this is just a shitty moment…but you WILL heal…the scars ARE kickass (especially with a bear attack story)…But also…we WILL still love you if you want to hand in your slutembership card…but think a bit first…because if you want a man for the right reasons…I’ll take that card…put it in a safe place…kind of like retiring a jersey number….but if it’s not for the right reasons…if it’s “samantha-esque” than go ahead…feel sad for a bit…maybe put the card in an undie drawer…and then it’s there to pull out whenever you’re ready to put the “red lacies” back on…Just Sayin’

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@ER – in SW London so lots of rugby players around here. My weekends usually consist of watching the lovelies.
However my newest sport involves my main tool for recuperation: my lovely, fast and pretty, blue hybrid cycle. Leching at lovely, fit men as you overtake them/they overtake you/you pass them running the opposite way and give you the eye (Battersea Park yesterday, he was a gorgeous joy to behold. Looked vaguely familiar too but not in a cumface way).
Best £250 I’ve spent for a long time, and having a bad hip is a great excuse to cycle aimlessly (read: slowly) around parks where fit Antipodeans hang out. Next step is graceful dismounting (harder than it sounds, especially when you can only lift your leg so high) and requesting ‘assistance’ from selected…specimens. Would a slightly squeaky brake be too obvious?

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@dotti – you have given me the best possible reason to cross the river (I’m NE London) and to buy a bicycle. That’s kudos to you!

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Nah, you don’t want a boyfriend, you need a f’buddy….and y’know, last time I heard about duty-bound sex, I remembered that the line ” in sickness or in health” is only reserved for husbands.

Trust me when I say this, women can always “get some”

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