I am not the “other woman” I am “another woman.” How do these two differ you ask? Well, if I were the other woman, the guy I were “dating” would be in a committed, monogamous relationship with a woman and I’d be the one he were hiding and sneaking around with. But that is not the case at all. He is not in a committed relationship. He does not have a girlfriend. He just happens to be in a non-committal, non-monogamous, relationship with me and another woman. The kicker is me and the other woman know each other. Her and I are not friends at all. We don’t travel in the same circles. Oddly enough he is the one who introduced us to each other. Yes, I know what you are thinking right now. “What! This girl is crazy, off her rocker to be in this situation!” But please before you judge let me explain how this situation came about. 

The first line of the Tolstoy classic Anna Karenina reads “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way” – and the category your family falls into could make or break your Thanksgiving holiday. It’s often said that family gatherings bring out the worst in people, and every year, advice pours in on how to handle yours. Here’s a little bit of help this holiday season, whether you are happy or otherwise.

I was a horrible liar, and we both knew it, but I had no choice. There was no possible way I could tell him that when I reached into his coat pocket and took his hand—to this day the only bold, romantic gesture I have ever made—it was because I thought he wanted me to.

“You’re just doing that as a friend, right?” He asked, sheepishly.

“Yeah. It, uh, helps with balancing.”

Thanksgiving is a time to spend with family and friends. Sometimes this family event may have an unexpected guest: a cute, single guy. When such a treat comes your way, seize the moment in a feminine, ladylike fashion.

Seating. Right away, you will want to be seated next to this hottie; however, this is a bad idea. A major part of flirting is conversation and body language. Both of these are difficult to display if you’re sitting side by side. Try positioning yourself across from him for the best effect.

Introductions. If introductions have not been made before reaching the table, take this as an opportunity to place yourself on his radar. Before you take your seat, introduce yourself and offer him your hand to shake. When he shakes your hand, hold his gaze and smile. You should disengage from the handshake first so you don’t come on too strong (a girl who won’t let go is creepy). Glance down as you take your seat, then back up again at him with a slight smile on your lips and in your eyes.

In the classic scary flick, “The Exorcist,” when young Regan McNeil’s mom wanted to banish the devil from inside her daughter, she had to call in the God Squad. The result was all sorts of profanity, a generous helping of projectile vomit, and several unpleasant deaths.

Once the devil was cast out, Regan and her mom moved to a new city; after all, who wants to live where the devil once did? Unfortunately not all of us can afford a change of locale after a traumatic experience, like, say, a breakup. Short of jetting off to Bali and drowning your heartache in fruity cocktails, the quickest way to exorcise someone from your heart is by ridding yourself of all the bad ju-ju—and debris—that a rough breakup can leave in its wake.

My boyfriend of two years has an addiction to porn. We’ve never watched together, and I actually just found out about it three months ago. He was viewing it on my computer and I confronted him about it. I had previously mentioned that porn is not something to ever be viewed on my computer (I have two young girls at home). He was actually replacing our sex life with satisfying his own needs. Things got better ... for awhile, but the last two weeks I’ve noticed it on the computer again. Different sites, but still tons of pics of naked girls. I finally confronted him, again. I’m hurt and confused, and seriously sick of living like a nun. This addiction stems from years of being alone. As much as I understand, what’s left for me to do? Can we make it better or is this a lost cause? — Getting Nun

On the night of my 10th anniversary of dating my girlfriend (yes, we are still not married) I had a dream that she killed a man on our weekend getaway. He touched her butt and she got angry and then stabbed him with scissors and pushed him in the river. I was questioned about the murder (I saw it from afar) and at first I started to lie, but then came clean and told the police everything.  She was carted off to jail, I gave her $1000 for attorney’s fees and then we were broken up.  I cried and then I was like, “Well I guess it is time to start new.” It got fuzzy after that but I think another witness came forward and testified that it was self-defense and she was going to get off. I’m not sure what happened next. Weird right? —Dating A Murderer

Reader Nikki’s boyfriend painted this for her! (Don’t worry, we won’t call the police on him.)

Have you seen graffiti that’s kind of sweet (even if it is against the law)? Send your pic to tips@thefrisky.com.

A year ago my best friend “Erin” fell MAJORLY in love over a long distance relationship with someone in Europe and this summer she moved there to be with her girlfriend. The girlfriend is still in school in another country, though, so Erin lives in her girlfriend’s hometown and they’ve only seen each other on vacations. I’m happy Erin is happy, of course, but the stuff she tells me about how her girlfriend, whom I’ve never met, for the record, treats her frightens me. She’s apparently pretty jealous and gets upset when Erin hangs out with other lesbians. She also has access to Erin’s Facebook page and email account, which means she can read all her messages. I told Erin it sounds controlling, especially since I send her emails about stuff in my personal life that I don’t necessarily want her girlfriend to read. Erin got really defensive and insists the email-reading doesn’t bother her because she has nothing to hide. I said it bothered me, though, because she shouldn’t have someone snooping through her private emails. Erin got frustrated at me, said she’s got “bigger things to worry about,” and completely changed the subject. I’m worried because Erin moved to Europe to be closer to her girlfriend and now she’s a little bit isolated from her friends and family. If this girlfriend continues to do these weirdly controlling things, I’m afraid we’re not going to know or be able to do anything about it. What more can I do? What more can I say? — Hates Snooping

When my mom was in town this past weekend, we went to the mall. Not just to go to the Gap, which she had a 40 percent off coupon for (the woman always has a coupon for either the Gap, Banana Republic, or Bed Bath & Beyond), but to go to the bookstore to look for bridal magazines. Before I was engaged, I had to stop myself from buying one of those magazines. I wouldn’t even pick one up, for fear of jinxing myself and never getting married. As someone who is OCD, I’m surprised I didn’t back up four steps and do a circle after looking at them.

When you break up with someone, how do you expect the people in your life to treat your ex? This Sunday’s “Modern Love” column in The New York Times explored that topic in an essay by Charles Antin. Antin had an amicable, cold-turkey breakup with his girlfriend of five years, and then found himself morosely following her life in the aftermath via Facebook. When his “technophile” grandfather joined the social networking site and befriended his ex—because of their shared love of Frangelico, it seems—Antin was angry. The column ends with a bit of a whimper—Antin confronted his grandfather, who ended up quitting Facebook entirely—but it got me thinking about how we expect our family members and friends to treat our exes, and how we expect their family and friends to treat us, whether the breakup was amicable or not.

This is my first holiday season as an old married and my husband and I are planning to spend Thanksgiving at his father’s place where his brother and his wife and two small kids will join us. My father-in-law lives here in Manhattan, just a mile up the road from us, so, luckily, we won’t have to do any commuting. Our Christmas trip will be decidedly more involved. We’ll be visiting my parents who live in Germany (it’ll be my husband’s first trip there!). In the last 20 years, I’ve spent every Christmas but one in Germany. I figured this year, since we’re newlyweds and still ingratiating ourselves in each other’s families, it was important to spend the holidays with our respective parents. Next year, though, I hope to begin some traditions of our own. I’d love to spend Christmas in New York finally. Maybe my Jewish husband and I can even enjoy some Chinese food for dinner. So, how about you? Where will you spend the holidays this year? And, if you’re in a relationship, how do you decide whose family to visit?

“I am a Libra woman (9/26/82) who began dating a Taurus man (4/22/83) from another country in August. From the first day he voiced his feelings for me and even stated on our third date that he wanted to be with me long-term i.e. marriage, kids, etc. I have never been told anything like this before and I was flattered, but also way cautious due to my last horrible relationship with a Taurus man.”

Over at the Daily Mail, advice columnist Rowan Pelling has a letter from a woman who finds that she is only attracted to her friends' significant others and has absolutely no interest in men who are actually available and interested in her. Pelling says this is all because the chick has terrible self-esteem, but I'm far more interested in whether any of you have lusted after a friend's mate. My taken friends are all involved with great dudes, some of whom I find genuinely handsome, but I wouldn't say I'm currently lusting after any of them. But what about you?

As a free-spirited 26-year-old, I support a wide range of lifestyles. But I’m just not into sharing the same dating pool with my mom—a fit, fun-loving, blonde bombshell of a 50-year-old. After all, the term “cougar” is only funny if your mother isn’t one.

A glamour girl in suburban Baltimore, my mom was bound for the ranks of “heartbreakers of a certain age” long before her marriage to my father—a great dad but an admittedly crappy husband—crumbled a few years ago. The object of many younger boys’ affections, she had the lifeguards at our pool drooling and my lacrosse player friends deeming her a “M.I.L.F.” By the time I got to college, I wasn’t fazed by the frat boys who swarmed around her during parents’ weekend. They would take turns spinning me and Mom around on the beer-soaked dance floor, until I told her it was time to go home.