Every woman I know has been in this situation at one time or another, wondering whether the guy she’s wasting—I mean, spending most of her time with is interested in her as a girlfriend or just a buddy.
In my case, his name was Daniel. He’d flirt, drive me around in his cool vintage car, and generally make me feel like the coolest, prettiest, most fun girl in the world. We hung out 24/7. He was like my boyfriend, except he never made a move. Ever. Keep reading »
An update on the Doodler. I do no like, nor do I accept, guys sending mixed messages. According to He’s Just not That Into You, I’m supposed to read the signs and accept, without a guy actually saying so, that he’s not interested. But the Doodler left me confused. He seemed interested! We hooked up! He’s roommates with one of my friends! Besides, we had fun, didn’t we? Why wouldn’t we go out again? I emailed the Doodler on Friday evening, suggesting we go out this week. I haven’t gotten a response. Rude much?
As for Chicken Parm, things have been rather nice between us the last few weeks. Friday evening, Chicken Parm came over, not to spend the night, or go to dinner, or even to screw. No, he came over to nap. And cuddle, too. Then, he left. Last week, he told me, “I wish we lived in the same building but had separate apartments, so I could do work in mine, but sleep in yours.” It was oddly romantic. I think I may have even said, “Aww.” Keep reading »
Elisa Baxt recalls one of her first dog dates with her boyfriend; it was on a beautiful spring day, and she and Scott were having lunch at an outdoor cafe, eating salads, and sipping lemonade. Next to them was Elisa’s three-and-a-half-year-old chow-lab mix Cody, chewing on a special order carrot (raw and unpeeled).
“It was a great day,” Elisa said, “and Cody was a great icebreaker. Of course, now, she’s like our child. And we take her everywhere.” Keep reading »
Sometimes Bill Cunningham, the New York Times street fashion photographer, takes pictures of French women, and they always look so damn sexy. Granted, the Times is going to choose the best photos, but somehow French women always manage to look more seductive than the average American woman.
Now, it’s silly to stereotype and say that all French women are sexy, but there are definite cultural differences between French women and American women—that’s undeniable. It also seems unarguable that these differences are responsible for that thing French women seem to have. The thing that makes them seem fashionable and cool and charming. Keep reading »
As a single person, it sometimes feels as if the world is partial to couples. Perhaps you’re like me—tired of checking that “single” box on your tax return while your married counterparts file jointly and gleefully claim dependents. You see a family buying in bulk at the supermarket and wish you could take such cost-saving measures without having to eat spaghetti every night for a month. Or you wonder what you’d do with the extra cash if your rent was suddenly halved.
Sure, families get tax breaks and cohabitaters have lower living expenses, but there are some financial upsides to being on your own, especially during an economic downturn. The truth is, with fewer responsibilities, singles are freer to take risks and find novel ways of coping with the stress of a Great Recession. Finally, the singletons have some advantages. Keep reading »
While some women have trouble with breasts that droop or low-hanging butt cheeks, my heart has always been my least-resilient body part. Like Chet Baker once crooned, I fall in love too easily. And once it ends—especially when it’s not my idea—I tend to have a little trouble getting back up on that passion pony. The worst time was after a six-year relationship went kibosh (translation: he dumped me). I didn’t so much as kiss another man for two years. I know. It still makes me shudder.
Sure, I was busy moaning, moping, sobbing, and sighing for the first six or eight post-dump months, but by month 10, I thought I was ready to move on. For the next year and a half, I kept wondering, mostly aloud, to anyone within earshot, why nothing was happening. It was only in retrospect that I noticed what a basketcase I’d become… Keep reading »
Before getting your moral molars all impacted, we’d like to make clear that we’re not endorsing having an affair or ruining a perfectly good marriage (or an imperfect one, for that matter).
Whether single or taken, flirting is fun. Getting hitched helps out in the tax and health care departments, but married social life can start to feel like a blur of “dinner at the Newman’s” and “girls’ nights out.” We already know that flirting at the office helps business and is good for substance-free spirit-lifting. Unlike flirting with single blokes, hair flips and deep conversations with married guys aren’t automatic green lights for making a move. Here are ten other reasons to flirt with a man in a (wedding) band. Keep reading »
When you’re single, meeting eligible men can be kind of frustrating. Yes, you can go to bars, try online dating, or stalk pet-owners at the dog park, but if you tried your usual tricks and now feel like you’ve depleted your options, have no fear! We asked 10 women in cities across the country how they met their last boyfriend (and what they did on their first date together) to give you a few new ideas. It looks like we’ll be signing up for acting classes, going to a few baseball games, and watching live wrestling events! Keep reading »
I have said and/or done the wrong thing so many times that it’s truly the eighth wonder of the world that I ever managed to trick anyone into dating me more than once. There was the time I fell off my chair and farted (loudly) just as my butt hit the ground. Or the guy I leapt away from as he tried to kiss me, gesturing frantically at the giant oozing cold sore on my lip. (I still don’t know how he missed that thing—I’m pretty sure it was visible on Google Earth.)
There are plenty other gems in my arsenal of embarrassment, but who hasn’t had a red-faced moment or ten? I used to beat myself up over these transgressions, but despite my occasionally questionable behavior, most of the men I’ve been out with have forgiven me quite cheerfully. In turn, I’ve turned a blind eye to their missteps and gaffes. What I’ve found is that it comes down to levels and limits. Here are some guidelines.
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