Oh my God … the holidays are approaching. That dreaded time of year when those who are single are reminded over and over again that they are, you know, single. I’ve already decided I’m not going home for Thanksgiving, nor will I make a visit for Christmas, which means I’ve had holiday planning on my brain. Stay in Paris and hope friends are around? Or take a little trip by myself, maybe to Venice or Brussels?
Le sigh. The way things stand now, I’ll probably spend New Year’s alone, without a kiss. Ah! Why do I think this way? That conclusion comes from my neurotic, rational side which tracks my future from today to December 25th—no serious boyfriend prospects right now, plus 47 days or so isn’t enough time to fall in love AND get invited to his house AND get kissed on NYE. It’s just how it is, folks.
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I had known Billy for five years through mutual friends, and at some point we started hanging out independently. I was still sailing on the friend boat when Billy indicated his winds were now blowing from a different direction. I wasn’t interested in him romantically then, but we did seem to get on quite well. And so ensued several months of friendly, flirty hangouts, during which I grew more and more fond of the fellow. Keep reading »
This is a story about a dysfunctional relationship. It was between me and my bedroom closet, and I know you know what I’m talking about. Keep reading »
I guess I’ve been lucky in my romantic dealings with coworkers; one turned into a long-term relationship that outlasted the job and the other two were just pleasant dalliances that fizzled out naturally. Which is probably why I’ve always rolled my eyes when I hear so-called experts yammer on about how you should avoid dating people you work with at all costs. I mean, sure, stay away from the boss or anyone who reports to you, but if you’re both on equal footing, who cares? Keep reading »
I haven’t been much of a believer in gut instincts until now. I’m one of those neurotic, analytical, thinks-too-much girls who tends to question her reasoning and feelings. But in the past few months, I’ve let go and gone solely on the gut. It’s what made me leave my job in New York and what brought me to Paris (so, thanks, Gut). And last Tuesday night, as I was rushing to my date with TDH (the tall, dark, and handsome Frenchman whom I met through friends), my gut was telling me, “This is not a good idea. This isn’t going to go well.” Keep reading »
It’d be great if dating and flirting were easy—things you could approach with excitement and nonchalance. Unfortunately, that’s not always the case. You want to make a good impression on your potential love-interest, yet the very act of pondering how the other person perceives you can make you less confident! Below are four tricks for making a great first impression whether you’re cruising the pick-up scene at a bar or on a first date. Keep reading »
A wise Mind of Man once told me, “Generals are always prepared to fight the last war.” People — well, OK, I — try and work through the crap of their last relationship with the person they’re with currently. This, I think, explains why, for the better part of my adult life, I have been a complete and total spaz when it comes to men and dating. I know, shocking, right? if I was a spaz before the relationship with my ex-fiance, I was a complete and total bunny boiler after he broke up with me. I was an insecure, over-analytical nutter and wasn’t sure how, when, and what it would take for me to stop fighting a war in which I was the only participant. Keep reading »
Like the David Letterman Debacle wasn’t bad enough, now we have the story of Steve Phillips, the ESPN analyst, who had an affair with a 22-year-old coworker. Unfortunately for the 46-year-old sports dude and married father of four, his latest dalliance (and apparently there’ve been many before her) turned into a bunny boiler when he broke it off with her.
Brooke Hundley, the jilted junior, went ballistic, repeatedly emailing and calling Phillips’ long-suffering wife, tricking their 16-year-old son into an online flirtation, and then finally showing up at the family home, scaring the crap out of everyone.
Lucky for Hundley, the Phillips declined to press charges, but her reputation, both professionally and personally, is shot. (His too. He’s since been fired from ESPN and has entered a treatment facility.) Obviously, being some cad’s side action is always a sucker’s game, but if you’re going to do it, do it right. Keep reading »