Screw Jill.

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Do you need to tell the Jills of the world to fuck off?

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000

Answers

Oh.. at first I took that 'Screw Jill' sentence to mean something completely different.

(grin)

-rich http://www.inferiority.com

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


The Jills in my world are the ones who smile knowingly when I tell them I want to have both a family and a successful (one day high- profile) career, and tell me my priorities will change once I've had a child - like I'm not going to want to be an Managing Director any more, and will instead want to work part-time at the local cafe or something.

And I just nod and smile, because I'm too polite to tell them that they're talking shit and shouldn't presume to judge how my wants and needs will develop simply because they can't fathom what it's like to be ambitious and determined to have it all. How sucky is that? I really should cut them down to size.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


My husband's family feel sooo sorry for me because I work. They think that I should be able to stay at home and take care of our son. He is 11 years old. He is in school all day. I don't need to stay at home with him, he is fine. They also all make babies like rabbits. Every time I see the family there is a new baby around. I like babies, other people's babies and I like to hold them and cuddle with them and play with them. I do not want another one! One is plenty for me. When I hold one of their babies they look at me and gather all of the family around and they collectively sigh and say "Doesn't this picture look great. Ginny needs to have another baby." No thank you. Leave me alone.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000

Hey! I was sad to see the someone thinks all Jills are bad. I am not! I am married (hey, it was my choice, okay?) have a cat who is not my offspring thank you very much, am working in Hollywood where everyone is beautiful and I stand out because I am overweight, have brown hair, sometimes wear glasses (at night my vision isn't so great) and I read... a lot... We Jills are not all bad. Oh, I do drive an SUV, but it is for road trips, not baby seats. Please, let one Jill brighten your day. Really.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000

Thank you for hitting it right on the spot, Pamie. I got married because I wanted to be with Mike permanently, not because I wanted to spawn little clones of myself. But everyone IN MY WORLD feels the need to ask whenever I go home "So when are you and Mike having kids?" I tell them the truth. Whenever I've run out of more entertaining things to do. ERGH. And what's with pet rent, anyway? My cats are much cleaner and quieter and well behaved than your hoard of clumsy, noisy monsters. Let's see some KID rent.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


Fuck, yes.

Maybe not the Jills in my case. Maybe it's the Brians. The ones who make sexist statements about human nature and how it's only natural to "want to conquer" and for whom conquest always involves treating women like sacks of meat until you can fuck them. Conquest never means setting a goal for yourself and achieving it. It never means learning a new skill or conquering a fear or hiking or writing a great song, it means conquering women.

Blech.

It's pretty fucked up for people to treat other people that way, and it's really fucked up that when I hear it enough I start to feel like a loser because I'm not out conquering. Because I actually have respect for the women in my life.

So yeah, those people can fuck off too.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


Rock on!

Here's a story for ya -- I work for a non-profit organization, and "Good Day New York" was filming in our offices. They were doing an interview in my office, so I had to tidy it up, and move all of my toys (small robots, Pikachus, stuffed frogs, Felix the Cat, and so on.)

So this producer (female) comes up to me and says, "Oh! Are you a *mother?!*" ::stare of astonishment:: "Um, no...why?" "Oh. Well, it's that you have all these toys in your office, and I thought they belogned to your children..." ::completely bemused:: "Um, no. I'm not a mother. I have those there because I *like them.*"

"Oh."

My boss (female, and cool) didn't let me live that down for weeks...

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


YES!! I'm from Arkansas and pretty much everyone I went to high school with has married or moved out of the state. (seriously)

When I go back home, I tell them about all my exciting adventures in DC lik being in law school and helping an elderly lady get social security benefits and getting pepper sprayed because I wanted to see the protesters.

What do I get at the end of all that? Have you met anybody? When are you going to settle down?

Forget telling Jill to fuck off. I want to slap the crap out of her.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


My Jills are the ones that say that men staying home to raise the kids must not be very successful. My Jills are the ones that say that if the woman has a higher income, that the man must feel bad about it. My Jills are the ones that say that just because a man is doing something that the woman wants him to do, especially if it benefits her endeavours, he must be "whipped". My Jills are the ones who say that someone has to stay at home with the kids. Why? My mother and father didn't stay at home with me, and I'm not an axe murderer. I've never participated in a drive by shooting, and I never even smoked tobacco, let alone crack. I'm not worried if my kids have to have a babysitter after school, too. I did.

My Jills are the ones who say that I can't be happy living alone, and I must have a man to move in with, with the eventual goal of marriage. Sorry, I don't. I kinda like the fact that I have the place all to myself, thank you very much. I can hang my pantyhose from the shower bar, and nobody can complain, because it's MY shower bar. It's MY bathroom, in MY appartment. I like my independance right now. I lived with a boyfriend once, and while it didn't go bad, I like the fact that I have the final say in whatever's going on in my place. I like the fact that I can sit and watch movies and eat nothing but popcorn all day Saturday, and nobody can say anything about it. Oh, and Jill: I don't hang my pantyhose from the shower bar. I wash 'em in the washing machine. With my jeans. Then I throw them in the dryer. I don't put Bounce sheets in my drawers and closets. I hate laundry, I hate dishes, and I hate housework. I do not know how to give my windows the perfect shine, and I don't dance with Mr Clean in my kitchen. I don't like Martha Stewart, and I really don't give a rats ass if my curtains don't match my furniture. I'm terrible with plants, and I don't care if my pie crust comes out light and flaky. As a matter of fact, I buy my pie crusts ready made.

My Jills are the ones who say I must be a perfect cook. I'm not. I can burn warer. And I'm OK with that. I'm learning, but I didn't spring out of the womb knowing how to cook. And you know what? Neither did my mother. My brother, however, did.

My Jills are the ones who think he must be gay.

My Jills are the ones who think I must be weird because I'm a girl and I like science fiction and role-playing, because those are boy things. My Jills are the ones that called me a tomboy, because I liked playing with trucks and GI Joe and Transformers when I was a kid. Hey, I liked Barbie, too, and I had a whole pile of Cabbage Patch Kids.

My Jills are the ones that tell me that Barbie is the reason that they are so self concious about their bodies. She's a doll, dammit. A hunk of plastic with hair. I never felt bad about my body because I played with Barbie. I felt bad because I kept losing her shoes. These are the same people with subscriptions to Cosmo.

My Jills are the people who write for Cosmo.

They are people who tell me that the only way I can feel good about myself is if I can fit into a size 2 bathing suit, and if my hair is perfect at all times, and I have the thickest lashes and the longest- lasting lipstick application. The people who tell me that I have to have two orgasms before breakfast, and the only way to do that is with my perfect husband. And when I'm done that, for breakfast I have to have low-fat soy milk on my three flakes of Special K, in order to keep that tummy nice and flat. And watch out for cellulite! If I do have cellulite, these people will be happy to sell me a cream that will reduce the look of it, and another for my fine lines and wrinkles.

My Jills are the ones who ask me where I got my streaks done, and don't believe me when I say they're natural. I've never dyed my hair, and I probably won't, even if it starts going grey. Choke on this, Jill: My mother doesn't have single grey hair, and she's 57. And you know what? She complains about it! She figures she's earned a grey hair or two.

My Jills are the people who tell me that all the nice men are either taken or gay. That's crap. I met a nice man, and I didn't do it through a dating service or personals. I did it at an art supply store. Yes, he's an artist, and he's no more gay than my brother is.

My Jills are the ones who call twitter and laugh and say that I'm sooo daring because I gave the art store guy my phone number.

You know what, Jill? I don't read Cosmo or Elle or Vogue. I don't watch Oprah or Days of Our Lives, and while I liked Sleepless in Seattle, I hated An Affair to Remember. I thought Ghost was dumb. However, I loved Star Wars and I saw the new one 5 times. I saw Dogma, and I thought it was great. I don't like Celine Dion, LeAnne Rimes or Mariah Carey. I do, however, love Weird Al Yankovic, and I've seen him in concert twice.

I couldn't care less what you or the rest of society thinks about me. Maybe I'll get my tongue peirced. Maybe I'll stop shaving my legs. Maybe I'll become a forklift operator instead of studying "Office Administration." But whatever I do is my business, and not yours, and if you even dare pipe up to say anything about it, you know what I'll say?

I'll say "Fuck off, Jill."

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


Your anger is Jill's weapon. The only way to be happy with a boring life is to judge the lives of others. We have to unite and make the Jill's look like the freaks. Not us. God, I feel like Norma Rae. Norma Rae could kick Jill's ass.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


You would think all those Jills would shut up after you bag your tiger on the big game hunt of marriage, but they don't. They get louder.

"When are you going to have a baayyyyyy-beee?" "You should have a bayyyyyyyy-beeee." "Are you two trying for a bayyyyyyyy-bee?"

The other thing that just boggles my mind is how, now that I am married, people will ask me if I have checked with my husband first. Like, they will ask if I want to do something, and after I say "yes", will ask if I need to check with my husband.

I reserve my vitriol for the worst Jills of all. "Mah husband bought me this 4 carat diamond ring. What did YOUR husband buy you?" "Mah husband just made vice president of his company. What does YOUR husband do for a living?" "My house is being considered for House Beautiful. Who 'did' YOUR house?" "Mah husband is taking me to Berumuda over Christmas. Where is YOUR husband taking you?"

Give that Jill a little smack for me, will ya? Thanks!

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


"YAY FOR PAMIE!"

It's a good thing there isn't anyone else at home right now, because they would be confused and start asking me questions. Pamie, you made me cheer right out loud. "YAY!" just kept coming out.

Damn straight, FUCK JILL! Whee!

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


I got married. "Oh, are you changing your name?" "No. Neither is he." "Neither is he what?"

Once in college a friend said she thought men were more driven to succeed in business becausae women knew that if their projects failed, their husbands would support them. As a child, all my friends lived with their single monther. I was the only one who spent half the time with my (divorced) dad. I stared at her. It had never occured to me that this was a viable financial tactic. Where do people LEARN these things?

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


Yay Pamie! I wear ponytails and plaits and buy toys too and I'm WAY older than you, little missy. And no, I'm not pining for a bambino, and no, this toy is not for my little girl. This Lisa Frank pucker-lips purse is all MINE, buddy. Dear Jill:
Your Religion: Well, you think I'm a Christian, right? So if I put down Jewish or Buddhist or something, would you still love and accept me? Because I'm a Taoist.
Practice: Regularly, but I'm really not getting much better at the piano. Oh, wait, you mean my religion! You're trying to find out how GOOD a Christian I am. Because you think I'm a young Christian Single Adult. Well, wrong. As for practicing my spirituality...if you're a Taoist, you DO practice all the time, not just on Saturdays or Sundays. We're not about the rituals, kiddo. Though you can be if you really want to be.
Education: College Graduate I.e., yes, I can spell, and I can read.
Your Race: Some Folks is Even Whiter Than Me. oops, channelling Todd Rundgren. Well, last time I checked, I was Caucasian.
Marital Status: Single-Never Married ...but I lived in sin for 7+ years, does that count? In Georgia, it does.
Relationship Goals: Dating/Fun | Steady Relationship | Marriage | Marriage and Children ...Er, depends on who I meet. With Bachelor A, I might just want to go see a movie dutch treat. With Bachelor G, I might want something else.
Tobacco Use: Yes | No ... Er... How do you classify ~ eight clove cigarettes a year?
Alcohol Use: Socially | Rarely | Never HT: WT: Name: Age: Female Male Address: City: Zip: Home Phone: Work Phone: Cell Phone: Job Title: Work Hours: Briefly, what would you like CSA to do for you?

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000

WORD!

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


Alcohol Use: Socially. Some days call for a frozen White Russian.
HT: Tall
WT: Average-to-thin. You should ask if today is a "fat clothes day" or a "baby tee day".
Name: You already know this, you sent me the letter.
Age: Old enough to know better than to bother with smug dating services.
Female ...yep, I'm a girl...hooray for boobies.
Address: Again, you know all this stuff, you solicited ME.
Home Phone: "Hello to everyone in this household, your roommate is a loser who needs a snotty Christian dating service to get a date."
Work Phone: "Hello, can we talk to you about your dating history while you're trying to do your job? Oh, this is her boss? Well, can we speak to your lame employee who can't get a date without us? Her mind is not on her work, as you see..."
Cell Phone: Bwa ha. Yeah, I might miss your all-important call while I'm driving to or from work. By the way, AS IF I'm going to PAY FOR YOUR CALL.
Job Title: Sycophant
Work Hours: too damn long
Briefly, what would you like CSA to do for you?
In brief, stop bothering Pamie. You suck.


-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000

Recent moment that I wasn't there for:

Guy: Andy, will Shelly come work the concession stand for the play this weekend?

Andy (my husband): I don't know, I'll mention it to her.

Guy: So, she'll do it, then?

Andy: No, I haven't asked her yet. Maybe you should ask her.

Guy: Oh, so she won't do it?

Andy: _I don't know_, you'd have to ask her.

Aie. I can handle the 'when are you having a baby' and the 'when are you going to graduate and get a real job' stuff, but this pissed me off beyond -- grr! This guy was basically assuming that my husband would make a commitment for me, flat out, without consulting me in the matter. We are not One Unit. We are two people that happen to like each other a lot and got married. Beh.

NB: It would be different if it were a close friend who knew that Andy would know whether I want to, say, go to the bar that night after the show, or at least that Andy would be asking me rather than just assuming I'd say yes or no. We only sort-of know this guy.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


I'm so glad I'm not the only one who gets those awful things in the mail. I swear I get one at least once a month. What's worse, I know they send them to everyone in my apartment complex - the area around the mailboxes is regurlarly littered with them. Because everyone who lives in an apartment complex is single and Christian, you know.

I'm torn as to tell Jill to fuck off for a)being such a self-righteous bitch and implying that people who aren't Christian aren't worth dating or b) attempting to make me feel inferior because not only am I not Christian, I'm (shock, shock, horror, horror) single too. You know the only reason Jill is using a Christian dating service is because that Rules book didn't work for her.

And to all the Jills of the world: I don't want to get married. I will not change my mind when I "meet the right guy", I will not change my mind when my "biological clock starts ticking", I will not change my mind when I am 40 and am "more likely to be involved in a terrorist attack" than to ever get married and it's too late. So stop telling me that I will. If I do, it's certainly not going to be because of something you said or because some boy "saved me" from the horrors of spinsterhood. It will be my decision, and it WILL NOT be influenced by you or your "smug married" attitude (tm Bridget Jones). If being married means acting like you, I want no part of it.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


Funny, I noticed they left off the "Married" and "Alcoholic" options. As if there aren't plenty of self-proclaimed "Christians" who fool around on their spouses (or sure would like to, if some dating service would be so kind as to set them up) or who have substance abuse problems. Oh, you mean they only want "good" Christians? Well, why didn't they just SAY so?!? ;-)

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000

You know...I kinda like it that CSA is around. I mean do you really want die hard Jesus Crispies hanging out in your favorite bar or coffee house? Fuck no. They would be bitching to managment about the music and handing out tracts. Antiabortion debates are such a buzz kill. I say let them have their own little world. It makes the rest of it a much nicer place for us.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000

Actually, today I would like to use this forum to say "FUCK OFF" to an actual Jill. This Jill tried to get my (now ex-) boyfriend to sleep with her while I was out of the country for 10 weeks. He refused, many a time. While I was there, we broke up (we had both changed a lot, and we hadn't even been going out for a month before I left) and I started dating someone. When I got back, my ex had left school and Jill, a bartender at a bar that I frequent, said to one of my friends when we were there, "I can't BELIEVE you brought that little whore here. She broke up with ______!!! And went out with someone else!!!" Um, hello? Wasn't she trying to get in his pants all the time? Why was she mad at me for breaking up with him? I also found out later that she DID actually sleep with him while I was gone, so where does she get off blaming everything on me? That makes no sense. And now, when I see her at the bar, she will do really lame and stupid stuff like "bump" into me and not apologize, or give me dirty looks or whatever... So, I would like to take this opportunity to say, "FUCK YOU JILL. YOU DON'T MEAN SHIT TO ME AND YOU ARE NOT HURTING MY FEELINGS BY BUMPING INTO ME AND NOT APOLOGIZING. YOU LAME-ASS."

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000

To all Jill's: Fuck off, I never met a nice Jill in my entire life. You Jill's can all die as far as I am concerned. But Harrassing Pamie is just going too far. Please die and make the world a better place with your absence.

Oh and Heather, that rant was awesome. You rock. That's just the kind of attitude I go for. Don't let anyone else tell you who you are.

Pamie, you rock as always, we'll keep our sniper scope's locked for all those Jill's out there for you.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


Okay, Jill, here's another reason why you shouldn't ask people who have been married a few years when they're going to have that baby. BECAUSE THEY MIGHT BE INFERTILE! They may have been trying for the LAST TWO DAMN YEARS to have a baby. And hearing you tell them what wonderful parents they would be does not endear you to them.

That happened to me more times than I could count before I finally conceived my son. I never, never ask people that question because a, it's rude, and b, I remember vividly the pain it caused me 15 years ago.

Also, Jill, when I first got married, did you really need to inform me that since I wasn't taking my husband's hard-to-spell-and- pronounce last name, that I obviously wasn't very committed to the marriage? Eighteen years later we are happier together than we ever were, and I hope you're in moron hell where you belong.

Oh, and no, the unmarried women at the wedding DO NOT want to try to catch the damn bouquet, especially not for the photo that will undoubtedly go into the Bride's Special Day photo album.

Gee, this is fun; pamie, thanks a lot for the topic. I feel much better now.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


Oh yes. Can someone please just hold Jill down so I can slug her? I've been getting the 'so have you met anyone?' crap for years. But I just did somethng that sends all the Jills in my world into a high state of panic. I just bought a piece of property. And I'm going to build a house on it. For me. Yes, just me. No, noone else. Just me. Deal with it, Jill! And the next time you ask me 'but what will you do if you get married?', be prepared to swallow teeth. I'm serious! Ugh!

And as for kids? Drool makes me nauseous. If the baby leaks, this female gets queasy. Tell me how this fits into that whole 'female = baby lover' theory? Don't get me wrong, I love my neice and nephew. But that is *only* because I can hand them back when they start to dribble.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


Die, Jill.

I don't need to be told that I should be living the American Dream, owning a two story house with a white picket fences, 2.5 children and a damned dog.

How about I take the long road to owning a mansion with a Jeep Cherokee, a wife with one kid and 20 cats?

Take that, Jill.

-- Anonymous, May 12, 2000


If we take "Jill" as meaning my local social security office, then I don't just want to tell her to fuck off, I want to put a bomb under her.

I got a bit of Christian propaganda like that about three years ago, found it lying in the hibiscus bush at the front of the house (we have no mailbox and occasionally some people like to use the plant life for that purpose) sheet of A4 paper, folded in three, printed on both sides for six "pages", headed JESUS COMES! SIN WILL END! LOVE WILL PREVAIL! and going on in that hysterical vein but I was most intrigued by the authorial ascription at the end: "LAODICEA THE REMNANT, who 'keep the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus'". If we look in the book of Revelation, however, we find Laodicea was the naughty one among the seven churches, the one God was going to spit out, trample upon, etc. Bad enough getting God-bothering propaganda in your floral display, but it had to be ill-informed about the very book it was trying to push too

-- Anonymous, May 13, 2000


Yep, that Jill just will NOT shut up. I got married, I had the kids. Then she kept saying, "Oh, that's so cute that you're a career girl. I'm sure that's a nice daycare you leave your kids in 10 hours a day. Must be dreadful for you, you must feel so guilty, but in today's economy, you do what you have to do."

Then when I started working at home, she said, "That so wonderful, you get to keep your kids home with you now!"

Uh, no. I said I WORK at home. I can't work full-time AND doing Play-Doh with the kids all day long. They still go to school. Screw Jill for making me feel guilty about that, for acting like just because I'm at the house, the kids have to be here too. They love their school. If they stayed home all day they'd just watch too much Digimon and eat potato chips and I'd yell at them. And I happen to love both my job and my kids. I work because I prefer it to being with the kids 24 hours a day. And I'm still a great mother.

Funny, that Jill says a lot of the same stuff my mom says.

-- Anonymous, May 13, 2000


I'm three years out of high school and a good 30% of my class and my friends are already married. My sister is one year older than me (meaning, she's 22) and has been married for 2 years, with her first baby due in a month. I think it was the right choice for my sister, and I'm very happy for her.

However, my family (grandmas, grandpas, aunts & uncles, not my parents, who are very cool) seems to think the fact that I've never brought a boy home with me for a holiday means that I have no life outside of school. They ask me about "safe" subjects, like my grades or whether or not I went to the big football game (I haven't gone to one in 3 years of college, but they keep asking). My love life is ignored. I think maybe they're worried that I'm a lesbian. They don't really ask about what I do in school, because they don't care. They don't really ask what I plan to do after school, and they get all frightened when I mention wanting to move to New York and try for a big time career.

But the worst thing is, everyone in my whole family who is married got married by the time they were my age. That's right. 21. My parents, grandparents, aunts, everyone. So it makes me really abnormal to be career-oriented and not have had a serious boyfriend yet.

And you don't get to have your photo up on the wall at my grandma's house until you get married. It's a wall of wedding photos. I'll probably never be up there; they'll forget my face when I move away.

-- Anonymous, May 13, 2000


Allie, same with my family.... Everyone except for, like, TWO were married and had at least one kid by 22ish. The Husband-Type Man and I have a litany of responses for the inevitable "When are you two going to have a baby?" b.s.:

*Maybe next week *Well, it's not barbeque season yet *Ooh, tomorrow! Honey, where's the crock pot? *We'll think about it in five years *Give me 5 good reasons why we should have one

I went to a (Christian) high school with a passel of Jills. Every time an alumni gets in touch with me, no one ever asks about school or career (or talks about school or career); it's "are you married?" and "how many kids do you have?" and "Is your husband a Christian?" Practically every single woman on my alumni update wrote about the joys of motherhood and/or how much they loooove being a stay-at-home mommy. Not that I'm knocking mommies in general... it's just... is that ALL your identity encompasses? Really? When I got the "please, we want to hear from YOU" alumni update request, I finally sent in a snarky bit about my degrees and the fact that me and The Husband-Type Man are "presently enjoying a child-free environment." You don't need to tell me I was being a bitch... I know, I know.

Both me and THTM have found that marriage gives us an opportunity to rebel against sexism in society, since marriage still is seen generally in a sexist light. We got all sorts of weird responses when we both decided to hyphenate our last names. "Don't you love him? Aren't you committed to this marriage?" "HE'S taking YOUR name?! How'd you get him to do that?" "Isn't he, like, mad that you aren't taking his name?" "But you're SUPPOSED to take his name! How else will people know you're married?!" "Dude, what are you, totally pussy-whipped?" Gawd.

-- Anonymous, May 13, 2000


The other day, I heard my boss telling a co-worker, in reference to me "He's not even married," as if I had committed some horrible crime against humanity.

This same yoyo has questioned my sexual orientation before, basing his holier-than-thou judgments on my involvement in theatre, my penchant for wearing colored shirts and Ralph Marlin neckties to work, the Felix Unger-esque neatness of my office, and the stuffed- animal Looney Tunes characters that decorate my den at home.

So, let's get this clear: I'm not gay. I'm not married because I like my bachelor lifestyle. I'll wear whatever I choose. And the toys are for me. OK! Are we clear on that? Good.

Thank you, Pamie, for this opportunity to tell "Boss Jill" and all the others where they can put their ideas about my single status.

-- Anonymous, May 14, 2000


I don't want to tell Jill to "Fuck off" because then she might get the idea I'm in serious need of saving and I'd soon lose the will to live. Being saved can be a soul-destroying experience.

As to her need to see me married ... Like others, I've been thought to be gay, a pedophile, a quiet fellow who will one day go on a murderous rampage with bombs stuck in my Speedos (bad fashion choice) or some such thing. Sometimes when asked about not being married I will look wistful, melancholy, daub at my eye and sigh heavily while whispering some woman's name so they get the idea I'm some poor bastard who has had his heart ripped out and stomped on like French grapes. Sometimes I'll make a reference to kids and how much I would like to have them, and the Jills will feel tremenously sad for me until I add "with lots of garlic and a Greek salad."

Oh well. What can you do? I don't want to be married. I don't NOT want to be married. What's with this either/or business? If someone comes along and we both want to be married, we will. If not, we won't. I don't believe in living life with rules about what you will or won't do. When it's right, you do it. When it isn't, you don't. I think not getting married for a grocery list of reasons is as stupid as getting married for a grocery list of reasons.

Anyway ... the Jills don't usually bother me. They are simply of too little importance for me to care about. (Well, unless I'm spiffed on gin in which case I might go on a rant or two.)

-- Anonymous, May 14, 2000


Ditto on the no-maternal-bones-in-body thing. I was at a party once and the host's wife had just had a baby five weeks prior. I was staring at it because it was still all squashed-looking from the process of being born, and the wife noticed my staring and asked if I would like to hold it. "Oh, it's just that I've never been around a baby this young before," I said, but she plunked it into my arms anyway. (I always fail this test. You're supposed to keep your arms down and you won't get the baby, but I've found it's pretty deeply ingrained to reach out to accept an object that's being handed to you. That's why your fries don't drop to the pavement outside the drive-thru window. But I digress.)

Anyway, as this lactating creature is filling my arms with baby, she says, "Now, when they're this young their muscles aren't developed yet, so make sure you support her head at all times, otherwise it'll fall back and HER NECK WILL SNAP." Scared the HELL out of me. I held the baby's head up and just froze, terrified that I would move the wrong way and KILL it. A few minutes later it started crying, apparently under the impression that it had been handed off to an unfeeling robot, and it was mercifully removed from my care.

I still end up holding babies all the time, though. They just land there. I don't get it; I never ask for them. If I had gone through all the pain and suffering required to bring a child into this world, I wouldn't WANT fumble-fingered idiots like myself messing with it. You'd have to BEG me to handle something I'd worked so hard for, and prove yourself worthy of trust beforehand with some kind of certificate or something.

I thought I wanted to get married once, but that feeling only lasted a few months. By the time I'd figured out that I really only wanted to do so because of the nagging feeling I had that it was "time to get married", though, everyone knew that there was a wedding afoot and it was too late to gracefully back down and say, "Sorry... peer pressure." My advice on that front is to be secretly engaged for a while to see how you really feel about the whole thing before you go around telling your mother and your best friend and all (not that anyone asked me.)

Finally... although Jill can go fuck herself, I don't see anything intrinsically pathetic and wrong with using a dating service. Shopping for a new handbag doesn't mean that your life would be empty and meaningless without a new handbag, just that you think it'd be more fun to have one than not. I played around with Match.com for a while and it was great. You get to pre-eliminate men of religions you don't care for [let's call them... Jacks], those who smoke, those who already have kids, etc., and just look at the people you might consider going out with if they were the last men on earth. While it's great that some people can Meet Cute in a grocery store, I'd rather start on a surer footing than "he looks nice, speaks English, and has good teeth." Didn't you read the Onion article, "Apartment full of Jesus stuff brings date to screeching halt"?

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


This is the first time I've responded to one of these so please go easy on me.

We have Jill's in England too.

However, ours have habits like moving in, having kids and then expecting their man to work every hour to bring in money.

I know people who go to a pub (bar) on the way home from work every night and don't get any strife off their partner. I know other people who play sports 2-3 times a week (in leagues or around the country at weekend - like I did before injury) who get nothing but grief because they don't spend every waking minute of the day with their wife (outside of work). Why is this?

Society places a lot of expectations on couples, when are you going to settle down (not today). When are you going to have kids (maybe I should find someone to have kids with first). Have you ever been in love (only when I look in a mirror (and that's irony in case someone doesn't get it)). Why do they do this?

It's like, look we can't go out and do things because we are tied to looking after this baby, why should you be able to?

Religion? Don't get me started. Actually, two of the nicest people I know are born again christians in Fresno but they have never pointed religion out to me until I asked what the bible passages where doing stuck to the fridge (and I'd known them two years at that point). Their attitude is accept people for what they are and I think that's mine too (unless they are arseholes and then just don't think about them).

I'll be out this coming weekend, I can usually spot a Jill after about 3 minutes, if it gets to 5 can someone call me and let me know?

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


All right, the girls have had their bit and more power to y'all. Pamie's Jill sucks and I wish she and her ignorant-ass friends would step the hell off. But now, let me take a moment to introduce Jill's evil twin brother, Jack.

I've never met Jack, but I've met lots of people who had some Jack in them. Jack is everything that sucks about men, at least in this culture. His theme song is Denis Leary's immortal ditty "Asshole". Jack is probably a christian in some distant, murky fashion, but mostly he's just the embodiment of machismo.

Jack is big and muscular and he grunts a lot. He never expresses any emotion other than anger, because emotion makes you weak, and Jack can never, ever, ever allow himself to be weak. Jack is eminently practical (he thinks) and very distrustful of anything that doesn't meet his definition of the term. If there's something he doesn't like, he'll usually describe it as "pie in the sky" or "useless" or "airy-fairy". He's also rigidly authoritarian, in manners both subtle and blatant. He may never actually commit violence, but violence seems to hang over him like a cloud all the time, a potential that never goes away. Jack hates anything that's different. He doesn't even particularly like women, because he can't understand them.

Jack seems to be defined as much by what he is not as by what he is, and his entire goal in life seems to be to limit the possible ways by which other people can live their lives. Jill will sweet-talk and cajole you, but Jack will just coerce you, one way or another, into whatever joyless path he thinks is right for you.

Luckily, Jack seems to be losing ground these days. He can't figure out why less and less men want to be like him. Somewhere he's fuming, jaw clenched, trying to figure out what went wrong and who to blame. Unfortunately Jack doesn't deal with anger well, and whoever wanders by next is likely to be the target of his ire.

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


I'm glad someone else doesn't love to hold babies. I've never understood why admiring the baby is not enough; I have to hold it. Why am I supposed to want to hold it? I just don't get it. And then if I say no thanks when the baby is thrust at me, it's this huge insult.

I actually just got dumped by someone who said I didn't seem to have a maternal instinct and he wants children someday. Um, OK. Good luck with that, then.

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


I've always been in an awkward position when it comes to "normal" society. Ever since I started graduate school, I've been surrounded by peers who are men with wives. And I'm a green swan. I have more in common with the men intellectually. I can't just go off to the kitchen and hang out with the wives because they're concious of a separation between me and them. On the other hand if I'm hanging out with their husbands that's weird too. There's no real way to win.

In my first research group, there were a couple of Chinese male graduate students. Every day, their wives would come in at lunch time with a hot lunch for them, and sometimes a hot dinner too, if they were in the middle of a long experiment. I had to go out to lunch, or go home and make it myself.

A lot of my peers were married when they started grad school. But they weren't married to other graduate students. Their wives stayed home and took care of the kids, or they worked in administrative jobs. In those families, there was never an issue of whose goals would come first.

I'd be happy as a clam to hook up with someone maybe a little younger than me, who isn't quite as much of a creature of ambition as I am or whose career is so different that it doesn't compete. I don't care if my husband/boyfriend/whatever has the same level of education as me, or if he makes as much money. But society does.

I've fought with practically every boyfriend I've had since college about who was going to have to sacrifice what for whom. No matter what line of egalitarianism they talk at first, at the end it all boils down to me giving up my freedom for the hypothetical family, and them not.

I had a boyfriend who spent 10-12 hours/day at work. On the weekends, he liked to brew beer, work on his bikes, train for marathons and centuries, and travel. He also wanted to have kids, but didn't see how it would mean that he'd have to change his lifestyle. We broke up when he decided he was going to move to Arizona to open a brewery. There were no interesting opportunities for me there, he knew it and decided to go anyway, so I said "it's over". He came back with "marry me", which was touching, but it really didn't offer any solutions to the problem.

Then I got married to another guy with a Ph.D. He "compromised" to stay in the same place as me, converting his Math Ph.D. into an interesting scientific programming job. When my job evaporated suddenly, there was no similar conversion possible for me in the local job market. Even though my skills are fairly widely in demand, in plenty of places where we both could have gotten jobs, he refused to consider moving. He had "compromised" once, and now it was my turn, even if the compromise that I'd be making was much more limiting than his. It was tit-for-tat fairness on the surface, same old same old underneath.

Now that I've got the job that I wanted, and I'm alone, I find that the stupidest little things come up: I can't go get my dry cleaning, because the cleaners closes at 5:30, the implicit assumption being that your wife can pick up the dry cleaning in the afternoon. If I have to take the cat to the vet, I have to schedule appointments for the in-demand Saturday slots or duck out of work early. If I need to go to the doctor, or the bank, or to get an oil change, it's the same thing. And if I ever have to host a departmental reception at my house, there isn't going to be anyone at home to make hors d'oeurves and get the house all ready while *I'm* at work.

I'm starting to think that what I need is a wife, but I doubt that Jill would marry me.

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


Oh! Ouch! Whoa! Yikes!

I never thought I'd see the day when my name was taken in vain so virulently and at such great length. Um.... I've never had kids, I'm not Christian and I hate SUVs. Not that it matters but I'm just saying.

This was quite a surreal experience, actually.

I don't suppose ya'll would consider picking on say, Cindy or Jennifer or Diane for a while, would you? Yah, well, it was worth a try.

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


Dear Jill,

Bite me. I have spent the last 12 years - my entire dating life - trying to please you and your whole hell-hound sorority of women with your Barbie Dream House expectations. I have waited by the phone, Jill, for some of the biggest losers to call me - because, JILL, my self-esteem was so WARPED by all the messages I was receiving (from you and your kind) about how to BEHAVE around men, that I would do whatever it took to continue my relentless pursuit of THE ONE who might deign to marry me.

Oh, and thanks so much for that book THE RULES. It is the most misogynistic piece of tripe ever to hit the stands. Due to your advice on the subject, my best friend now thinks she has to wear make-up when she jogs JUST IN CASE she passes by a man who MIGHT lower himself to speak to her.

Thanks a million also for furthering the obliteration of self-confidence in 20-something women everywhere. Nowadays, if we don't jump through hoops to get a man's attention, we aren't trying hard enough and, if we DO - because we want SO badly to get married because, isn't that the most important thing, Jill? - we are total psychos who "try to hard."

Shut up about your china patterns and the schools you plan on sending your as-yet-unconceived-children to. We're all in the same boat out here, Jill. And I wish I could kick your ass overboard.

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


Oh, how I hate Jill.

I was around 20 or so Jills this weekend at my cousin's graduation.

Oh the joy.

Yes, I would like to meet Mr. Wonderful. Yes, I want a child. Ok, I want 2....but get off my back already. I always said that I wanted to have my first child by the time I'm 30. Maybe I'll make that deadline and maybe I won't.....but if I'm not fretting, you shouldn't be either.

I can't believe the stupid people that will ask the same couple over and over again when they are going to have a baby. Like someone said earlier....maybe they CAN'T have any. My friend tried for 7 years to conceive....and couldn't. So every time someone asked her, it really upset her.

Another friend just didn't want to have any kids. She got so much shit for that. People FREAK when you say that you don't want kids.

whatever.

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


Where do you guys find these women? I mean, where are y'all hanging out? I rarely run into women like this anymore, or if I do I guess I just don't take them seriously.

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000

Jill is a skanky whore. I too have had recent run-ins with Jill (or rather Jane her annoying Australian cousin) Friends wedding on saturday.......suits , doves, kids , married couples , engaged couples (all self rightous motherfuckers). "Oh , you are here and your partner couldnt make it" No i am here getting drunk as you bastrads near closer to instatnt death than you realise. "I am sure you will find someone like I did" "I am sure if you didnt drink you would find the right girl" "Have you met anyone here" "You must be in the hurting stage" Sheesh do these people ever let up. Say it loud " I am not married and yes I am happy!"

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000

Living well is the best revenge.

I'm single. I'm happy. Fuck 'em, don't give 'em any.

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


Life is too short to bother with the Jills of this plane of existence. If they keep trying to thrust society's expectations on you, then screw the lot of them.

i spent 12 wonderful years with my SO, until she died. Although she was Italian Catholic, we never got around to being married. We didn't need to. i met her while she was in University. When we moved in together, i was the breadwinner, paying her for books,helping with tuition, etc. I worked every job i could to make expenses, and then help pay for law school. On top of that, I usually did the majority of the housework.

I contributed every penny i could to pay off her school loans, and with her trying to get her career off, i continued with the housework. When she made junior partner, I hosted the parties.

I have a blue collar job, and don't make an exhorbiant sum of money. When she died, she was making 4 times my salary, and it didn't matter. So Jill, I am sorry that this idyllic life does not fit in with your view of life. i did all the macho things, rode a bike, was in an army, fought in a war, but never happier than doing the laundry or cooking for someone i loved. Jill, unless you become a real Christian, tolerant of others, FUCK OFF.

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


Fuck you, Jill.

Remember when you made snide comments about the fact that my boyfriend didn't have a job and that I was supporting him? Fuck you. The fact that my boyfriend had enough savings and I had enough income to be able to support our lifestyle is none of your fucking business.

Remember all the smirking about the fact that I live together with my boyfriend WITHOUT BEING MARRIED? Remember that, Jill? Well, fuck you, Jill. Remember when you said that living together before marriage is a sign of the fact that I somehow "can't catch my man"?

If I hear one more fucking Jill use the expression "why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" I will ram my fist down her fucking throat, I swear to God. I am not a goddamn cow, and Keith is not "getting my milk for free." He does not have to propose to me in order to somehow "prove" his love for me. We are not ready to be married yet. When AND IF we are ready to be married, it will still be none of your fucking business, Jill. You got that?

The worst part about all of this is that two of the most horrible Jills I've ever met read my webpage and frequently send me email. Ever heard a cliche about how women are innately biologically inferior to men? They've sent it to me. Women should stay at home with Baby and let Husband bring home the money because that's How It Should Be? They've sent it to me. Feminism is a big sham and all lesbians are man-haters? They've sent it to me.

Jesus Christ, I hate all these fucking Jills, and I wish they'd LAY OFF ME already.

That is all.

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


I just told my companys resident Jill that I got a skateboard for my birthday.

For once Jill didn't have a damn word to say. (her face, however, was priceless). It's a cheap thrill, but man I enjoy messing with her mind sometimes.

-- Anonymous, May 15, 2000


Fuck god...I mean fuck jill! Fuck you jill I hate you jill you ruined my life jill...you bitch...youdevil...I hate you I hate you I hate you...........Jill's not going to read this is she..........

-- Anonymous, May 16, 2000

Y'know, I can't. I just can't do it.

Jill, I'm glad you're happy. Seriously. That's good and all. It does, however, annoy me to no end that you seem to think everyone finds happiness in the same manner. Time to look reality in the face, dear. People are unique, and each person finds happiness in a different way.

I suppose I was more vocal than most a few years ago, when I was adamant that I was NOT going to get married or even LOOK for a husband before I hit 35. I don't get bugged by the Jills in my world - I think they've decided "she's the Weird One" already.

-- Anonymous, May 16, 2000


You know, I have something else to say about Jill. Jill is what gives religious people - especially Christians - a bad name.

Christianity is not a "way of life." Being a Christian does not mean that you don't drink, don't smoke, don't curse and don't have sex. It's a religion. It's a way to express your spiritual connection to the universe. It is NOT as easy to understand and define as the Jills would have you believe. It's a pursuit of knowledge and a pursuit of personal peace. The Bible is not a handbook for life written with a heavenly lightening bolt. The Bible was written by men - a bunch of them, spread out over hundreds of years. Some of them huge freaks.

People are supposed to go to church to worship and learn - not to socialize and eat coffee cake.

Those people with the anti-abortion fetus signs and the God Hates Fags signs? They're not Christians. They're ignorant, opinionated, self-righteous bastards. They're idiots whose behavior is, by definition, decidedly anti-Christian.

And so is Jill. What Jill is doing is selling a package to people who want to connect with others with their same values and opinions, and I wish mightily that all the Jills would find some other word than "Christian" to define that set of values.

-- Anonymous, May 16, 2000


I just want to offer a public apology to the real Jill on this forum. We don't hate you, and we don't want you to fuck off.

Please don't be mad at us, we're just venting.

Smile?

-- Anonymous, May 16, 2000


Allison, I think you put it best.

And I too feel sorry for any real Jills reading this, as I think it's a perfectly lovely name.

-- Anonymous, May 16, 2000

Oh yes - it is sort of a shame that we're having to use the name Jill here, isn't it? It is quite pretty.

-- Anonymous, May 16, 2000

right. so, jill is my middle name.

so ... yeah.



-- Anonymous, May 22, 2000


You know what? "Jill" isn't even real. She's a Stepford. Whenever you see one, just look straight through the mask. You'll see the same fears, but you won't see any balls. Because if she had any, she wouldn't have to be so damn fake.

So there.

-- Anonymous, May 22, 2000


Can I vent to the Jills of middle & high school?

Good. I don't own anything Doc Martens, Abercrombie & Fitch, Lucky's, or anything like that. And ya know what? I don't want to. No, I'm not poor. I have the money to buy them, thank you very much. So what if I wanna dye my hair purple? So what if I wanna shop at Hot Topic? I'm not hurting you. Don't look down on me if one day I'm goth and the next I'm Mary Sunshine, okay? I don't mind having boyfriends over the internet. I'm happy to know that he's not just going out with me because I'll sleep with him. And, when you see a picture of him, and you think he's cute, don't ask if he's seen a picture of me in your unbelieving voice. Yes, he's seen tons of pictures of me! He doesn't care that I get zits, and I'm a little chubby. And neither should you! I don't look down on you for getting drunk and sleeping with whoever every weekend, do I? I don't care that Teen says that my blue glasses, purple hair, and gold jeans aren't in style. I'm not going to dye my hair blonde, get plain glasses, and wear Calvin Kline just because you say to. I'm going to wear my fishnets, and my Joe's Crab Shack shirt, and my gold jeans for as long as I want. And there is nothing you can do about it.

-- Anonymous, July 03, 2001


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