Horror movies might seem like the obvious choice for a night in with your date on Halloween, the scariness leading to inevitable cuddling. Yet the cannon of less terrifying spooky flicks can give you more helpful romance advice than your average self-help book. And really, do you want to watch a bunch of movies that teach you that after you have sex you’ll get chopped up by an ax murderer? Or one that shows you that even after a few indiscretions, ranging from marrying another to sleeping with a manic transsexual, your partner will be all too happy take you back, or at least join you in a water orgy? That’s the kind of lesson I want to learn as I slowly slip into a candy coma. Keep reading »
When I was 15, my mom got remarried to a Hawaiian shirt-wearing, retired “Coasty” named Tom. His kids, Caleb and Heather, lived up near Boston with their mom, and we lived in Florida. So, I only ever saw my new step-brother and step-sister on big holidays every other year. They were more friends than siblings. They were a little older than me — she was 19 and he was 17 — and I thought they were so cool. Mostly because they had shirts with Chinese dragons on them, which, if you don’t remember, were actually super fly back in the day. Keep reading »
I’ll tell you where to find eligible, sensitive, loving, manly men are, and that’s Queens, which is like Brooklyn, if Brooklyn didn’t try so hard. This magical borough in New York City is positively thick with emo blog hacks from Texas. But if this gritty urban paradise isn’t convenient, then the next best place to meet men is, you know, wherever. Keep reading »
I came late to appreciating chivalry, which I have written about on The Frisky before. For most of my life, chivalry made me uncomfortable. I’ve always identified as a feminist and Third Wave feminism generally is pretty frosty towards traditional gender roles. But moreso than being a feminist, I felt the same way a lot of modern women (who may or may not identify as feminists) do in that I felt pride of my ability to take care of myself better than my mother can take care of herself. I pay my own bills, I know how to change a tire on a car, I buy my own technology, etc. etc.
However, as I grew older and had more life experiences and more serious relationships, I realized that I liked being treated chivalrously. Some of it is that I like the outward displays of both respect and affection; as a person whose job entails the reading of many nasty Internet comments about my beliefs/life choices/appearance, those little loving moments are golden.
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