It makes me really happy that people are speculating about Rosie O’Donnell’s love life, that she’s in People magazine talking about how she met her girlfriend at a Starbucks. And The National Enquirer, that trashy rag, wrote an entire story recently about how Portia and Ellen don’t want kids. They literally took one idea from Ellen’s new book where she said they won’t have kids and made it into a news item. That, too, makes me a little giddy.
Lesbians are finally getting tabloid equality. Keep reading »
The other day I had lunch with a work colleague who told me her first boyfriend from middle school just so happens to live in her apartment building, which is just crazy. We started reminiscing about our first boyfriends. Hers sounded like a nice, normal guy who turned out well. She must have been born with good taste in men. Not me. I ran into my first boyfriend, Jaime*, two years ago when I was visiting my parents. The staggering thing was that he hasn’t changed at all since we dated in 8th grade. He is doing the exact same thing he was 20 years ago — getting stoned ’round the clock, saying “right on” a lot, and playing guitar in a band that will never go anywhere. These things were all very attractive to me when I was 13. Oh, how I’ve changed. The only thing that has changed about Jamie is the way he looks. He is heavier and his hair is longer. I don’t think he’s cut it since 1991. Good thing the grunge look is making a comeback. To think, I entertained the idea of running away with him and getting married. I must have been rendered temporarily insane by the mix tape he made me. After the jump, I asked some Frisky staffers and friends what has become of their first loves.
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Don’t waste your precious time and money on dinner and drinks with a fugly troll. And don’t be punished for your “high standards.”
Instead, pay the beautiful ladies of WhatsYourPrice.com for their time. Yeah, I don’t understand What’s Your Price, either, other than it sells itself as a “dating site” rather than an escort service. Keep reading »
Ryan* and I started dating during my junior year of high school, when I was going through my Christian good-girl phase. I dutifully attended church lock-ins, Bible camps, and crushed on worship band boys. Ryan, who played guitar in a Christian band (sigh) and just so happened to be the son of my 6’5″ Pentecostal Pastor, was the one I chose. In addition to being a couple, we were best friends who were in choir and church drama team together. Ryan was absolutely hilarious, super tall like his dad, and best of all, my mom LOVED him. He really knew how to get old broads to swoon.
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