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Photo courtesy of Olympicgirls.net.
This week we learned of the current medical/physical/emotional condition of U.S. Olympian Lolo Jones, the beautiful 29-year-old hurdler who announced to the world that she is a virgin. “It’s something, a gift I want to give to my husband,” she said. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life … Harder than training for the Olympics. Harder than studying for college…”
That sounds about right to us. Thanks to the promiscuous behavior of our youth, we can’t even purchase a ticket to the Olympics. And yet, we are left to wonder at which point virginity goes from a special gift, to something the cat left outside the sliding glass door. You know, I have a container of sour cream sitting in my refrigerator that has never been opened. But I’ve got to suspect they put an expiration date on that sucker for a reason. Now, I’m not saying Lolo Jones in anywhere near that date, but let’s not kid ourselves, pretty soon I’m going to take a long, hard look at that sour cream and think aloud, “Eeks, I should have had this last week.”
So, is Lolo doing the right thing? Oddly enough, I think she is.
The Chronicles of Ms. X: “Well, this week was kind of a dud! Lots of texts and messages, but dang, what’s a girl gotta do to get a “where” and “when” from a man? I’m not looking for a pen pal. One man felt we had a lot in common: neither of us smoke and we both have a car. What? Another asked my preference in bed size. He has a king but is thinking of going to a queen “because on one side of the bed there is plenty of space to walk but the other side is too close to the wall.” I don’t know, like, what in my profile, like, gives him the impression I care about his room design delimma?