Remember when we asked if lust was more important that emotional stability? Well, according to a new study, Spaniards say yes — and Hollywood is to blame. Researchers used a version of the Love Attitude Scale, a quiz that asks people to describe how much they agree with various descriptions of love. Love Buzz found several versions of the quiz online. They include statements like “If you are going to love a person, you will ‘know’ after a short time” and “I could get over an affair with my partner pretty easily and quickly.” The quiz shows how much you accept six types of love: Eros, Pragma, Banquet, Mania, Ludus and Storge. Yes, they sound like exotic birds or rivers in Greece, but they actually refer to various ways people think about the big l-o-v-e. Your values depend on your personality, and, to a large extent, on the culture you were brought up in. Keep reading »
The beginning of a relationship can be a tricky course to navigate. Guys (like me) aren’t so good at guessing what women think or want, and our stupidity can lead to otherwise easily avoidable arguments. Setting some basic rules with your new flame may help you get past the small stuff and start enjoying your lives together. After the jump, ten guidelines to smooth the road with your new beau. Keep reading »
The guy I lost my virginity to found me on Facebook a few months ago. I opened my inbox to read, “Is this Teri? If so, hit me back.” It was an absurdly casual message, as if he had no idea I associated him with puking from anesthesia in the parking lot of an abortion clinic. The shock I felt when I saw the name Jeffery* in my inbox is a testament to how successful I had been at forgetting everything that happened between us. Keep reading »
“You’re doing what?”
I heard that a lot in the spring of 2007, whenever I explained to friends that I had broken up with my Nathan, boyfriend of four years, yet we were still living together in the apartment we’d shared for the last two. It was a temporary matter, I’d say, a situation that would last about a month or two, until we found our own places. Keep reading »
Women, take note: when the appearance of men’s toenails suggest that we are either vying for a Guinness World Record — or preparing for an underground cage fighting match — feel free to mention that they’ve gotten a tad long. We don’t mind. Keep reading »
Over the years, I’ve admitted to a lot of embarrassing things. I told you, dear reader, that I work for a ladies magazine, I have been known to have my back waxed and that I use Facebook responsibly (using anything responsibly is a buzz-kill for a crazy mo-fo like me). But the most embarrassing thing I could think to write about today is that I enjoy being on the inside of a spoon and I’m a dude. Keep reading »
Here are the things I know for sure: I sleep better with socks on; I prefer Dutch chocolate to Swiss; I look lousy in black and will always wear it anyway; and I will never, ever live with a man again. Keep reading »
A few weekends ago, my girlfriends and I decided to have a drink night. For most girl crews, drink night usually starts out with a few friendly cocktails and pointless compliments on each other’s outfits (the question, “oh my god where did you get that?” is a surefire sign that you need a few more drinks in you to make the night more interesting). Soon enough those friendly cocktails ended up being more than a few harshly honest pitchers as we started to commence into the dirty ritual every woman has been guilty of enjoying: talking crap about other girls. From “she’s way too tubby to be wearing that,” to, “he’s way too hot to be doing her,” we ranted on and on as if we were Perez on The View. We were cruising No Mercy Street. Eventually we started to soften up as we got onto the subject of our good friend Jesse, who had broken up with her more-than-perfect boyfriend Jeremy. It had turned out that Mr. Perfect had been cheating on her for six months with his hometown friend. Keep reading »
“V-Day.” Sounds more like an invasion of Normandy than a day spent celebrating love and romance. And rightfully so. Sometimes the intricacies of preparing for the holiday resemble war-room strategy more than jubilation. Sure, you’re armed with flowers and chocolates instead of a rifle and grenades, but there is a common dread, with the tips of those big red hearts hanging like so many swords of Damocles.
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Sometime when I wasn’t looking, Valentine’s Day metamorphosed from a C-list kids’ holiday, with pink and red candy and construction-paper hearts, into an extravaganza. The regular-person equivalent of Oscar Night, but instead of Best Picture or Best Supporting Actress, prizes are given for Best Achievement in the Acquisition of a Leading Man.
But what if you don’t have a new pet “project” to promote or arm candy to show off? Better stay home rather than remind everyone that you couldn’t land the role of girlfriend, even for one night. Cause being single is cause for as much mortification as a bad dress on the red carpet. Keep reading »