(Bachelorette parties don’t fall far behind.) Thankfully, for those still masochistically drawn to tradition, there are advice columns.
Is your fiancé looking forward to his “last night of freedom”?
Last night of freedom, oh golly…get this womenz:marrying you is akin to getting thrown in the slammer. Though you, in all your well-intentioned unknowing-ness, will be forced through coercion and commercial lies to be his nodding and approving servant, call girl, chef, grocery list, laundromat, toilet bowl cleaner, hershey-highway-underwear-stain remover, financially dependent child bearer/raiser/hated mother who actually believes her husband gave up his”freedom” the night before his wedding and thus would never cheat, who couldn’t divorce even if he did cheat because the money isn’t there or the idea of being alone/poor/manless has been conditioned to be more unappealing than dealing with his daily task of making you feel inferior and oh-so-lucky to iron his shirts and massage his smelly feet/groin …. it is YOU who is taking the freedom.
It’s an important guy ritual to blow off steam pre-wedding and for him to reassure his pals that he’s still “one of the guys” even though he’s making a commitment to marriage.
What’s this steam the author talks of? Anger? Fear? Gas? An insurmountable amount of stress from having to plan the most important Patriarchal Day and Duty of your life? No, it’s the dumbest, most underhanded metaphor for jizz I’ve ever heard. Confusing to boot. Come on–the only thing men are taught to ritualistically blow is their own load. Why must we couch it in bad metaphor like “seed” or “steam.” I mean the author does make this ritual sound pretty serious–the guy is getting married so I’m sure this super necessary seance is chock full of manly men things one can only do in their wife-less days of old. Like, for example, fly-fishing:
Bachelor parties aren’t exactly what they used to be. Rather than the stereotypical evening of strippers and stogies, many men today are opting for other types of parties. Taking a weekend trip with the guys — think outdoorsy activities like white-water rafting and fly-fishing
“Listen honey you’re about to take away all my freedom, I gotta go catch a rainbow trout.” ??? Oh and bull shit on a kabob that’s what he’s doing. I guess the author bought that line too. “Outdoorsy activities.” Hmm, sounds quaint. (note: if men go out in the woods it’s “outdoorsy, if a woman does it she’s “connecting with nature” or something). Anyways! Apparently men have to reassure the pack the new lady won’t be interfering with tubing events or asking too many questions when Hubby says he and the guys are going-code term for local strip joint-“fly fishing.”
Communicate Your Limits
Be open about your feelings. This doesn’t mean nag him endlessly; it means tell him what makes you uncomfortable. Saying, “Thinking about you hiring a stripper makes me feel unhappy” is very different than saying, “You’ll hire a stripper over my dead body.”
I can think of nothing more idiotic than waiting the night before *committing to someone for the rest of your life* to have a talk about boundaries. Not only that, the kind of boundaries that might constitute cheating. Or how the luvayalife views over half the world’s population as potential sex objects. (But I bet they have a wedding song picked out. awww) Anyways–when you do have that talk women don’t “nag” ffs, be considerate. He can only communicate in grade school counselor language: “When you ________ it makes me feel ______.” Really tell him whats up! (Likely, he’ll still hire the stripper but the idea is you didn’t use the right phrasing so his behavior is really ALL YOUR FAULT).
Remember Your Own
Don’t forget — you get to do this too. If your bachelorette party is going to be a spa day, that’s one thing, but if you’re hitting the town looking fabulous with your girlfriends, that’s totally another.
Oh equality! I almost forgot women want that and NOT liberation. Phew! Okay, so I think I got it: women going out “looking fabulous” is like getting to do????what great thing exactly? I’m confused–I thought men just went fishing these days. Or climbed trees. Now all of a sudden we’re back to hints of last-night-of-my-life-to-put-money-in-an-undergarment-omgah- myfreedomtimer-is-running-out! Even assuming bachelorette parties also engage in the super awesome act of objectification, sexualization, pornification–is the message here that two assholes are better than one?
At least there’s good news:
Remember, there might be a lot of girls out there, but you are the only one who has to put up with his shit at home one he wants to marry.