Last weekend, my girlfriend and I went to a pub full of guys shooting pool and drinking beer. We were there to see her friend, Mike, a DJ. He’s got a weekly gig at this place and, as he doesn’t seem to get too many of them, it’s pretty important that he keep it. I thought we were being pretty well-behaved. I’m not really big on PDA in places like that because, frankly, I feel out of place anyway and I don’t want to draw attention to myself.
But as the night progressed my girlfriend and I started to get tipsy. We didn’t do anything over the top but I know for a fact that I reached for her a couple times, danced with her and probably even kissed her. This is pretty standard stuff for a heterosexual couple, but I noticed that we were being gawked and glared at. I leaned over and asked my girlfriend’s guy friend if he’d noticed. He gave a fervent nod. Uh-oh. Keep reading »
In honor of Mother’s Day, we’re interviewing our moms to find out how their lives changed when we were born and what they learned about love and life as a parent. Today, Annika’s mom.
My mom and dad knew each other when they were growing up in Barbuda, an island in the Caribbean. They didn’t get along, but as they became older, a romance blossomed when they both lived in NYC. My grandmother helped my dad become a U.S. citizen, and he was a part of the family before he and my mom married in 1979. I was born soon after, but my parents divorced after two or three years. Although I know my dad and spent time with him throughout my childhood, I have to say that it was my mom who did the day-to-day raising of me. She supported my creativity with dance and art lessons and taught me to develop my own opinions, even when my opinions caused me to get detention every day. That’s why she and I have had this attitude that it’s us against the world. My mom is my best friend and she’s usually the person I prefer to talk to before everyone else. She’s my sounding board and gives great hugs. But that’s not to say we don’t argue.
I know pretty much all there is to know about my mom’s past, but I was still curious to ask her about being pregnant and raising me, her only child. Keep reading »
Our favorite nut job, Courtney Love, has a theory about why she is a supposed love goddess in bed. She thinks it’s because she’s ugly. Uh, she’s kidding right? I suspect it’s more because she’s crazy, and men dig crazy chicks. In a recent interview, Courtney bragged, “Pretty girls just lie there. Us girls who grew up a little more homely have to try a lot harder. That’s why pretty girls never threaten me—it’s like, yeah, you want to take me on? Go for it.” Gosh. I feel scared for anyone who is a notch on her bedpost. Is this true, Gavin Rossdale? [New York Post]
But honestly, Courtney’s theory made me think there might actually be a needle of truth in her haystack of crazy. I’m not really a “looks” girl, but the pretty boys I’ve snagged have been incredibly boring in the sack. Like a lifetime of beauty gave them a case of the lazies. After the jump, Frisky staffers sound off about sexytime skills. “Ugly” vs. “Pretty.” Who is better? Cast your vote in the comments. Keep reading »
Monday was my birthday. I turned 28. That would have sounded old to me when I was in college or even as recently as when I was 26. Today, it sounds perfect—young, in fact, and exactly where I want to be. During lunch on my birthday, I took a walk near Central Park and got to thinking about how much my outlook has changed and the route that got me here.
Two years ago this June, my whole world turned upside down. During the course of a few weeks, my boyfriend of over three years broke up with me, I had to find a new apartment (a result of the breakup), and I started my first full-time job in New York City. Since I’d allowed my world to revolve around him, I had very few friends in the city. The friends I did have were so amazing that it still makes me cry in gratitude; nonetheless, this was a breakup of ugly proportions—one that involved a lease, money, each other’s families and the kind of shattered expectations that led to deep bouts of pessimism, sadness, fear and nostalgia. Keep reading »
It was in-crowd matchmaking of the highest order: Maureen Dowd, a Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist for The New York Times, offered to set up Helena Andrews, a reporter for the politics site Politico. “I’ve got a guy for you. He’s so hot, it’s perfect,” Dowd told Andrews during the 2008 election, identifying her plum bachelor as none other than candidate Barack Obama‘s personal assistant, Reggie Love. To some political wonks, Barack Obama’s right-hand man might have been a prize. But the Times‘ wannabe yenta turned out to be wrong: Andrews and Love didn’t hit it off at all. (Especially not after Love arrived to the date one hour late in gym clothes.)
Such a matchmaking foible was “dismayingly consistent,” Helena Andrews writes in the June Marie Claire. “Never mind the complicated algorithms of eHarmony: My matchmakers used simple math. Black professional + black professional = Huxtables.” Except … not. Keep reading »
“Thanks, but my mother’s dead,” I heard myself snap.
From the horrified look on the saleswoman’s face, it was clear I should’ve come up with a more tactful response when she steered me towards the Mother’s Day cards. After all, it wasn’t her fault my mom died; this lady was just doing her job. Keep reading »
You’re in a long-distance relationship and things are going well, or perhaps you’re in a relationship with a partner who’s about to move to another city, and you’re considering a move to be with them. It’s a big, tough decision and one I’m well familiar with. Not only is it the topic I probably receive the most letters about for my “Dear Wendy” column, I was also faced with the same decision myself a few years ago. I chose to follow my heart and move to New York to be with my long-distance boyfriend, and if you’re a regular Frisky reader, you know by now we’ll be celebrating our first wedding anniversary this summer. But just because it was the right decision for me doesn’t mean it’s the right choice for every long-distance couple. So how do you know whether it will work out well for you? Well, you don’t ever know for sure! Even when it feels right, moving for love is a total leap of faith and it certainly was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done. But there are a few questions you can ask yourself to help decide if following love to another city is a good move for you. After the jump, eight questions to ask yourself right now. Keep reading »
If you’re on the dating scene and want to find someone special, you know how hard it can be to meet and greet the right person. Starting a conversion sounds simple enough, but it can be the most difficult part of a date because you want to make a good first impression. You can’t just wait for the man or woman of your desires to talk to you because it may never happen. So you must make the first move whether you are male or female. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Here are some fun opening lines you might want to try: Keep reading »
Have you ever scooped a red jellybean out of a bowl, expecting it to be sweet and cherry-flavored and instead you’ve shocked your tongue with a hot cinnamon surprise?
Whenever this happens to me, I feel sort of betrayed – expecting something and getting something drastically different in its place. And sure, it’s one thing when it happens with a sugary candy or perhaps a soup (you expect it to be hot, but it’s actually a super gourmet, weirdo cold situation), but when this same situation happens with a man it’s bound to throw you for a loop. And that’s exactly what happened to me not too long ago – I was expecting a sickly sweet romance and instead I got a fire-breathing hell boy.
Let me explain. Keep reading »