The Over-Educated Nympho

This issue is a huge pet peeve of mine because I see and hear it everywhere–

Guy wants girl who’s nympho
Guy gets nympho
Guy has sex with nympho
Guy thinks nympho is whore
Guy no longer likes that girl is nympho
Guy brags to other guys that girl is nympho
Guy tells nympho “not tonight honey I have a headache”
Nympho beats the shit out of guy with baseball bat

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Upon creating this blog I was thinking of the friends I should email to tell them that after two years of harassment/encouragement to start a blog I finally have, I realized I don’t have that many friends. At least not friends who I know well enough to inform them of www.theovereducatednympho.com, since many of them are more of the acquaintance-level classmates and former co-workers, most of whom do not care or actively do not want to know about my sex life. ????

I talk about other things too. But of all the things I plan to talk about–relationships, recently moving in with my boyfriend, feminism, finding a job, work, books–sex is by far the most interesting. Although this is probably fascinating to people who randomly stumble upon me via the “next blog” button, most of my friends/acquaintances/relatives would feel alienated if not deeply disturbed. Like when my brother turned fifteen and I gave him condoms “just in case”. He was completely mortified. He hissed at me and closed the door behind us and said “I don’t need these! I go to an all-boys school! I don’t even KNOW any girls!!!” And then promptly threw the condoms behind a row of books on his shelf where they probably still are years later, expired and sad and unused.

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I made this yesterday after comparing a couple sangria recipes on line and coming up with my own compilation. Not only is it liquor, but it’s got lots of cut-up fruit bits in it too so you can count it as a couple servings worth of fruit and OHMYGOD who knew liquor could be good for you. It’s bitchin’ and will knock you flat on your ass. But you should be drinking this at the pool anyway, and what better place to be than on your ass? With brain-candy magazines, sunscreen, and a foam ball to throw at children who keep splashing you.

Sangria Recipe

bottle of red wine, cabernet-sauvignon ideal
1/2 cup triple sec
1/2 cup ginger ale
1/2 cup orange juice
1/2 cup apple juice
1 8oz can pineapple bits with juice
orange wedges
lemon wedges
apple wedges (gala kind is best)
ice

Best if chilled in fridge for a couple hours or overnight, but drinking right away because you just want to get doggone drunk is fine too.

I have a theory that blogging is so popular because it’s free therapy. Free GROUP therapy, because friends and strangers can leave comments either validating your feelings or telling you you’re full of shit and escaping vengeance with a baseball bat by signing “anonymous.” And at least here in the South the topic of therapy is very hush-hush, whereas in New York City everyone openly talks about therapy and even strangers on the subway have a spare business card from their therapist to give you.

I have attended therapy for years here in Texas. I quickly learned not to talk about it. At first I worked in “my therapist told me I’m either manic-depressive or just regular depressed with a super enthusiastic personality” in random conversations with classmates and co-workers, but soon saw that it was never received well and only acknowledged by a refusal of eye contact.

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