They come few and far between but we all have them. You know, those first dates that make you think, Wow, is this the one? I had one of these dates last Tuesday with The Lawyer.
We met at my favorite watering hole and jazz club for drinks. We arrived at exactly the same time, an obvious omen of good things to come. Continuing on the good omen train, while looking over the wine menu, we found out that Malbecs are our favorite type of wine. Keep reading »
Unfortunately, I’m becoming a professional at going on great dates that have awful endings. There was my first date with Scar Twin, which went off without a hitch until I fell down a flight of stairs; my first (and last) date with Jack, who wrapped up our evening by insinuating that I’m a slut; and most recently, my great — and also tragic — date with my old college friend Baby Face. Confirmed: Tears do not taste good in dirty martinis. Keep reading »
Facebook is overrun with pictures of baby bumps or “side belly cleavage,” as I like to call it, originating with women announcing their journey from TTC (trying to conceive) to TWW (two-week window after ovulation) to Chosen Ones With Tiny John McCains in Their Bellies. As friends, we’re overjoyed when we see these in our feed, obviously, because we’re all going to get free baby lessons once our friends duplicate (this is the correct terminology, right?).
There is a contingent of people who find the public baby bump pics, ultrasound avatars, or photographs of loaf of bread in the oven a little smug. But my key objection is the sheer lack of originality. Your ovaries spit out an egg that caught the flying shuttlecock of your mate mid-Fallopian tube — that is some world-class tennis you’re playing, lady! Your prowess in implanting a fertilized embryo deserves something a little more personalized.
If you’ve received the lucky news that you’re adding an initial to your Pottery Barn towels, tell your friends and family one of these fun ways: Keep reading »
Consider the open relationship. Maybe you’ve always felt constrained by a traditional relationship, and known that you could happily be with more than one person. Maybe your partner brings it up to you one night over tacos and margaritas, and you’re game. Or, maybe this is just something that you’ve wanted to try, to see if it’s something you could really succeed at. Most people go into open relationships not because they want to bone every person out there that catches their eye, but because the concept of monogamy is one that for many, feels decidedly foreign. It is kind of strange to think that we’re expected to stay with just the one person for a sustained period of time, and an open relationship can help expand boundaries. If you’re considering an open relationship, keep in mind that, if done correctly, they can be a blast. If handled poorly, like most things in life, they will blow up in your face. Here are some tips on how to navigate this new terrain. Keep reading »
Anonymous dicks on the Internet have told me a few times that I’ll never get a boyfriend because of my feminism. First of all, oh noes, because being single is so bad and women’s lives are meaningless unless a man validates us with their commitment. Second of all, what? I’ve had a boyfriend for a year and a half. They go on to claim that the only men who date or sleep with feminists are some variation on the word “fag,” which I take to mean effeminate, which is sometimes the case and sometimes not. I will say that my boyfriend is extremely masculine but does not engage in the desperate, hyper-macho mindset that leads people to call other people some variation on the word “fag” as if it’s an insult. That, or they’re “white knights,” or male feminists who are only in it for that sweet, sweet feminist pussy (which is weird, because they’ve also made really vile remarks about my vagina).
Anyway, what I’m getting to is: All of the anti-feminist assumptions about my love life as a feminist are predictably wrong. Tick — I have a boyfriend. Tick — he’s not effeminate (although it’d be fine if he was). Tick — he’s not a feminist, either. Keep reading »
Samhita Mukhopadhyay asked today on Al Jazeera: Can online dating ever be women-friendly? She talks in her op-ed about the challenges of online dating after your mid-30s, the rash of gross misogynist messages you can expect to receive as a woman on online dating sites, and how Tinder was intended to be woman-friendly, but can it really be woman-friendly if its creators don’t know what life is like as a woman and have, now, been accused of sexual harassment? She doesn’t mention sites like Straight White Boys Texting, which cull their content from Tinder users, among others, and which seems like a pretty pertinent point: Even if you “approve” of them based on their profile, you have no guarantee of how a potential date will actually treat you in real time.
Her conclusion is this pretty depressing last-stage-of-grief coping mechanism: “It’s as though the offensiveness on dating sites becomes a sorting mechanism, a virtual last man standing; only the last man is (hopefully) not a drunk sexist jerk.” My god. I mean, I know what she’s talking about. I’ve been there. It’s just that I was 25 and after four months of being on OKCupid the well of all right guys had already dried up and I couldn’t find anyone who was neither sexist nor duplicitous nor hyper-defensive (I expect from previous bad online dating experiences of their own). Keep reading »