ask e jean

Tor­mented? Driven wit­less? Fear not, help is just a short let­ter away

ELLE (Australia) - - Advice -


DEAR E JEAN, First-world prob­lem: I hate my job. I don’t hate the com­pany I work for, my co-work­ers or my boss. I hate what I do! I’m an ex­ec­u­tive as­sis­tant. I’m 34, and if I have to sched­ule one more meet­ing, pick up an­other lunch for my boss or put to­gether an­other Pow­er­point pre­sen­ta­tion, I’ll lose my mind. I’ve given no­tice and will be leav­ing at the end of the month. I have money saved up, but my ques­tion is: what can I do now? I have no idea what be­ing an ex­ec­u­tive as­sis­tant for 12 years qual­i­fies me for, ex­cept be­ing an ex­ec­u­tive as­sis­tant. I’ve learnt I’m not a peo­ple per­son. I’m quite in­tro­verted, I like maths and the less I have to deal with peo­ple, the bet­ter. Am I just be­ing a cranky bitch? I dread go­ing to work ev­ery day. It’s not a stress­ful job, yet I al­ways feel on edge and ag­gra­vated. – A Girl’s Gotta Find Her Pas­sion GOTTA, MY GLADIOLUS Sign up for a course and learn to code. You have the time and maths skills, not to men­tion the mes­meris­ing in­tro­verted per­son­al­ity, to code like a mofo. But for­get the short pro­grams. In my opin­ion, cod­ing well re­quires, at the very least, a few months to at­tain even fledg­ling level. Find your­self a men­tor and pre­pare to spend an ad­di­tional four or five months in­ter­view­ing for the best jobs. If enough women en­rol in enough cod­ing pro­grams, we’ll soon be writ­ing the code that will cre­ate the al­go­rithms that will rule the men who used to rule the world. Not to say there isn’t some bright, in­tro­verted 15-year-old in her bed­room writ­ing the code that will end the world as we know it next Thurs­day. Read Ray Kurzweil’s book The Sin­gu­lar­ity Is Near, about how tech­nol­ogy will soon “tran­scend our bi­o­log­i­cal lim­i­ta­tions and am­plify our cre­ativ­ity”.


DEAR E JEAN, To­day I got in­cred­i­bly mad at my boyfriend when he asked for sexy pics to “tide [him] over” un­til we see each other to­mor­row. It’s not the idea of pic­tures that got me worked up, but the fact that our sex life has be­come in­creas­ingly about him meet­ing his de­sires. I feel like a blow-up doll. I want ro­mance! I want a com­pli­ment! I want fore­play! I want him to

take time! I want him to ac­tu­ally kiss me! The few oc­ca­sions I’ve broached the sub­ject, he’s re­buffed me in a teas­ing man­ner. So now I feel un­com­fort­able even bring­ing it up. How do I get him to be­come con­scious of my needs in the bed­room? – This Doll Is About To Blow Up ABOUT, MY DAR­LING Let’s make a list of what your boyfriend is or is not do­ing and come up with ways to get him to do the right thing. 1. He can’t end a sen­tence with­out ask­ing for a top­less selfie. Tell him you’ll be de­lighted to show him any­thing he wishes (and a few things he hasn’t even thought of), but first, he must give you three com­pli­ments. Then don’t budge un­til he hails you as the queen of all women. 2. He can’t ro­mance. Haul the te­dious block­head out of the house and go camp­ing, danc­ing, roller-coaster rid­ing, etc. It will bathe his brain cir­cuits in dopamine and nor­ep­i­neph­rine, the neu­ro­trans­mit­ters that cause the but­ter­flies to flit in first love. Hell, just go­ing out­side and turn­ing a som­er­sault can flut­ter the bug­gers. 3. He can’t kiss. At the next party you both at­tend, play Kiss­ing Cha­rades – each cou­ple acts out a fa­mous movie kiss and the cou­ple who get the most correct guesses wins (and will find the make-out pump is well-primed). 4. He doesn’t take his time. Here’s the rule: no wham-bam un­til he thanks you, ma’am. He must en­ter­tain you with fancy ca­resses for 15 min­utes be­fore you even con­sider tak­ing off your clothes – and ev­ery woman knows that keep­ing her clothes on and rolling around on the bed with a cute per­son is some­times sex­ier than tak­ing her clothes off. 5. Skip num­bers 1, 2, 3 and 4, and tell him ex­actly what you think. The dude is not all-pow­er­ful. The less se­ri­ously you take him, the bet­ter. You say you feel “un­com­fort­able even bring­ing it up”? You say he “re­buffs” you? Ha! Shout at him! Pelt him with ep­i­thets! “You worth­less oaf-boy! You self-ag­gran­dis­ing pre­ma­ture ejac­u­la­tor! Dud! Rookie! Botcher of or­gasms!” Tell him what you want. “I want long, slow, dirty, life-de­stroy­ing fore­play, and I’m bored, bored, bored with you!” This is only half of what you’ll yell when you de­cide you’ve had enough and leave him.

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