There I was at my first company Christmas party, looking respectably sophisticated in a little black dress and kitten heels. Fresh out of college, I was working a coffee-running, “Ugly Betty” kind of job at a major conglomerate. This seasonal shindig wasn’t your average corporate affair. Since there were thousands of employees, no one was allowed to bring a date, and it was held at a big dance hall with a giant disco ball hanging overhead. The whole event was like a prom for work people. I huddled among a circle of girls from my group, trying not to watch my supervisor shake it on the dance floor. Keep reading »
The next best thing to having your own wedding is getting invited to one by your boyfriend. There’s something about a man who wants you on his arm at a celebration of love — with the added lubricant of an open bar. So when my boyfriend Mike asked me to be his date to his friend’s big day, I was so excited I nearly went into debt over a pricey cheese plate present and a new dress with matching lingerie — not that I planned on keeping it all on that night. Keep reading »
Your Birthday: it’s the one day a year you are guaranteed to have someone trying to do you. Even when you’re single, you can line a little somethin’ somethin’ up. But sometimes another candle on your cake is the only thing you can count on.
I had been dating this dude for what I considered a fab four months. The sex was so hot from the start, we never spent more than a night apart. Plus, he had a great record collection (housed in adult furniture), the most lovable dog on the planet, and the cutest butt. I liked him almost as much as I like bacon. Keep reading »
Here’s the deal. A few months ago, I was dating a guy I was really into. One night, at a party, a friend of mine approached us. Except, she didn’t seem to want to talk to me — she flirted with my man while his arm was wrapped around me! She even asked for his email address and then fumbled for a reason — she wanted to add him to her comedy show’s e-blast. I’m so sure — at least wait for the relationship to die before you swoop in like a vulture. But since I didn’t want to cause a Jerry Springer-style scene over it, I shrugged it off and thought, Nice try sweetheart, but he’s leaving with me.
A couple months later, that guy and I broke up and she friended me on Facebook. Feeling guilty for making fun of her and even sillier for holding a grudge on someone who clearly wasn’t a threat, I decided to accept her friendship (on the Internet at least). But Facebook is full of all sorts of TMI — profile picture changes, updates on favorite books, and the one that got me: accepted friend requests. Months after the chick hit on my man — okay, my ex-man — he accepted her friend request as well. I did a little web-stalking and found out that they’re now dating. I’ve always thought that I didn’t care about exes and friends dating (like when Denise Richards hooked up with her friend Heather Locklear’s husband after they split), but now I’m rethinking my position. What’s your verdict? Keep reading »
After a bad break-up, I hid in my room for a while listening to Beck’s sad Sea Change, clutching my childhood stuffed animal, Muffin, wondering what I did wrong. But after the obligatory period of self-pity, I was ready to move into phase two: the drunken rebound. My newfound freedom had me wanting some free love! So I rounded up my lady friends, put on my please f*** me pumps, and went out just to get back out there.
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There are so many things involved in attraction. From clothing to chemistry, a never-ending list of items can be turn-offs. But sometimes differences are a turn-on, from magnets to men, you know what they say: opposites attract. Still, some things are so repellent, they’re dealbreakers.
When my friend introduced me to a man who was over a foot taller than me, pale as a sheet of paper with pitch black hair and black leather boots laced to his knees, I fell head over heels for this grown-up goth. I’m sure we looked like a bit of an odd couple, or the cast of a horror movie (me being the girl that would get killed first) but he was sweeter than the little pink dresses I wore. On our dates, he was so cute and surprisingly funny, all I could do was giggle and find ways to show off my cleavage.
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