The way Francesco broke up with me was as simple as it was shocking. It was a Saturday afternoon in July and we’d just seen a movie at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. Riding the subway back downtown, we sat side by side, him in an inexplicable and smoldering silence. Then he got up and walked out of the train. I never saw him again. Keep reading »
Every week, the gentlemen over at GuySpeak answer questions from women the only way they know how: in guy style. Then they handpick some of their favorites and send them over to us to answer (read: fix) them in girl style. We call it GuySpeak/GirlSpeak. This week — how do you help a guy understand the difference between flirting and being creepy?
Oh, wise one, I require your sacred advice. There is this guy I flirt with sometimes, and its all good until the flirting turns into lewd comments. Is there a polite way to tell him he crossed the line without totally turning him off?
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Contrary to what your mama might have told you, “just be yourself” is not always the best advice. Almost all of us have something we’re insecure about, and while years of pricey therapy might eventually banish self-doubt, I’ve found that the best way to get over it in the short-term is to refuse to acknowledge it exists in the first place. What some call denial, I call common sense … Keep reading »
Normally, we are encouraged to stop blaming our parents for our problems. But a new study proves that it may be good ole mom and dad’s fault if you’re a single lady with few prospects. Turns out, our ability to attract mates may be linked to our genetic makeup and Australian researchers have located some immune system genes in female DNA that may be responsible for reeling in the dudes. Aha! I knew it wasn’t my fault! Keep reading »
“I think today might be the one day of the year where it’s socially acceptable to get wasted alone,” I wondered aloud as Emily and I walked past some heart-shaped decorations in the window of one of the many anonymous-looking Chinese restaurants lining the streets of Belleville. It was Sunday, Valentine’s Day, and we’d spent the morning in yoga class and were now walking back to the metro together.
“Awww,” she said, consolingly. “Well, I think Valentine’s Day is kind of like New Year’s. Usually a letdown. But totally, you can drink.”
“Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll cook something nice too,” I said, immediately reflecting on the guilty secret that has been my life for the past few weeks: working in bed for most of the day, reluctantly dragging myself out into the cold to find a pathetic dinner of baguette and cheese or yogurt and cereal. It made me remember that I’ve been so lazy lately that I hadn’t bothered to do the dishes after most of these meals, and that my apartment was a complete disaster zone.
We walked on in silence, both ostensibly sad because of the lovers’ holiday. Me, because I’m completely alone. Emily, alone as well because her boyfriend lives in Spain. At that point, it seemed only natural that, yes, I’d cook tonight, and Emily should come over so that we could have a girls’ night, drink some champagne, and feel sorry for ourselves. I felt relief because the thing is, I’ve never had any feelings about V-Day before, but this year felt like a slap in the face because last year, I’d spent it with Alex … Keep reading »
A relationship book called Marry Him: The Case For Settling For Mr. Good Enough by Lori Gottlieb has been the topic of much blog discussion in the last few weeks, thanks to its controversial suggestion that women should throw out their list of dealbreakers, settle and marry the best guy they can find. Also on bookshelves? A far more entertaining and hysterical book about, in part, the very guys Gottlieb might implore you to settle for. Comedian Julie Klausner’s I Don’t Care About Your Band: What I Learned from Indie Rockers, Trust Funders, Pornographers, Felons, Faux-Sensitive Hipsters, and Other Guys I’ve Dated is a hysterical series of essays about the “lessons learned from romantic disappointments.” Klausner began chasing boys early — she describes a certain epiphany she had, mid-blow job, as “I remember thinking the moment I felt Nick’s goth penis in my mouth that I. Was. Home.” — eventually accumulating a treasure trove of tragically hilarious dating tales. After the jump, Klausner answers some of our more pertinent questions… Keep reading »
The other evening, after a long day of writing, a train stalled on my line as I was attempting to make my way home. The train wasn’t stuck for long, but all the people who had been kicked off other trains behind it were now at the same station. It was so crowded that I couldn’t even make it down the stairs onto the platform. I took one look and decided to take a taxi. I jumped in the first available one I saw, thinking $15 wasn’t a lot to spend for an uneventful commute home. But things didn’t actually go as I had planned.
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