I’m an Aries who has been in a very fun, comfortable relationship with an Aquarius for two and a half years. We have a lot of fun together and it feels like we balance each other out. The problem is, in May I went back home (halfway across the country) to visit my parents and spent every day for two weeks with an old friend (Libra) with whom I shared an extremely brief but strong attraction before meeting the Aquarius. Because of the distance and other people in our lives — my Aquarius and his Taurus — we moved on. We were friends before and still are, and I can’t even be sure that there are romantic feelings there anymore. However, the two weeks I spent with Mr. Libra were fantastic. Fun, funny, exciting, and when it came time for me to drive home it felt like all my feelings for my beloved Aquarius had evaporated. Keep reading »
When you’re on a date with a guy and he gets up and disappears into the bathroom for an extended period of time, what do you assume he’s up to? Does it even matter? Isn’t an epic bathroom trip a dealbreaker in the initial stages of dating anyway? On this episode of “MERRIme.com,” Merri tries to find a way to break up with Ethan after he disappears into the loo for a little too long. [MERRIme.com
] Keep reading »
I committed one of the cardinal sins of dating recently. I somehow found myself in a heated conversation about the B word. As in BABIES. With someone I’ve been seeing for two weeks. I know. Upon realizing the foolishness of this move, I considered putting my suicide windows to use. But hear me out. Keep reading »
Blake Lively and Penn Badgley are definitely the cutest actors who’ve played a couple on TV that refuse to acknowledge they’re one in real life too. Luckily, “Gossip Girls” in training all around New York are constantly telling the tabs about their Blake/Penn sightings. Like last week, the two were spotted having brunch and smooching at Five Points restaurant. According to People, “The actor was very doting and even walked his girlfriend to the bathroom at the end of their meal. The two left the restaurant arm-in-arm.”
Um, back the truck up a second. He walked her to the bathroom? I’d never heard of this particular convention until last summer, when a date offered to do this. “Why would you walk me to the bathroom?” I asked. “Oh, I thought that was common courtesy,” he said. Sweet, but I’m a big girl. I can make it the 15 feet to the bathroom on my own. I’m not really interested in having you join me for the walk, unless you’re planning to join me in there for a quickie.
I’m all for opening doors and you giving me your jacket when I’m cold, but here are eight other supposedly gentlemanly moves we don’t understand. Though any effort is always appreciated, even if it’s a little weird. Keep reading »
I just finished reading yet another article about women and our ever-expanding egos. According to a new study by leading psychologists, we women are more egocentric and narcissistic than ever before. The symptoms of this dastardly “ego-itis”? Huge expectations of ourselves and others, a belief that we are the center of the universe, a deluded sense of our own fabulousness, trouble accepting criticism, and difficulty extending empathy. In fact we are 67 percent more narcissistic in the last two decades. Hmmm … I wonder if that has anything to do with big bad women’s lib?
Naturally, the article doesn’t spend much time talking about how these traits may serve us in our careers or personal lives. Rather, it looks at how this shift in the dating sphere is making things difficult … especially for men! Keep reading »
I guess it’s time for me to give up the dream that Jillian Harris will realize marrying Ed Swiderski is a BIG mistake and run back into the arms of Reid Rosenthal. In light of a million warning signs, “Bachelorette” Jillian is blindly plodding forward with Ed. Yup. She’s moving into his condo this week. [Insert blood-curdling scream here.] In regards to taking this huge step in their relationship, Jillian says, “I can start [having] a real life again. I’m looking forward to some sort of normalcy –- making dinners, waking up early, cleaning house. It’s perfect.” [People]
Jillian … eek! There is a difference between “leap of faith” and “blind faith.” As those of us who have lived together know, living with Ed is not likely to be the “perfect” arrangement she’s expecting. Even all those cute pillows from Pottery Barn won’t change the fact that Ed is either gay or a two-timer. Sigh. We have to let her make her mistakes. But because I have a soft spot for her, I thought the least I could do is give some advice on how to survive the first week living together. Keep reading »
So, it’s been a year since I got dumped. Frankly, I would not blame any of you for being at the point of thinking – if not saying – “Why the f**k hasn’t this bitch gotten over this yet?” I wonder the same thing myself.
There’s that saying that it takes half the length of the relationship to “get over it.” If that were the case, I would have another year and four months to go, God help me! But actually, I’m over the heartbreak. There’s not one ounce of me that’s still physically attracted to him. While I miss the friendship we had, the way he made me laugh, the sweet things he would do, like plate the dinner he made from scratch like we were dining at a fancy restaurant, and the fun we had traveling together, I don’t miss him as my boyfriend at all. That feels so amazing, I cannot even tell you. I could do cartwheels! (If I could do cartwheels, that is.)
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I’m sitting alone in my apartment on a rainy night. I’m restless, mildly bored, and, yes, I’ll admit it, but please don’t tell anyone … lonely. It’s days like this that I’m sure that there’s no more love in store for me — all of the epically momentous possibilities must have already passed me by. Somehow I blinked and missed them. It’s in moments like this that I allow myself the small indulgence of thinking about Sebastian.
Our story had all of the makings of a great love story. Once upon a time we met one evening in a dark, crowded party. He told me I was beautiful. I was young enough for him to appear larger than life. We kissed on the sidewalk in the rain. I fell hard for him — hard like scrape-me-off-the-floor-with-a-spatula hard. But we were wrong for each other in every way. We were young, immature, and troubled. It ended tragically – Sebastian stood me up on a cold, snowy New Year’s Eve and the two of us never spoke again. I went on with my life. Keep reading »
While I had so many thoughts about French dating customs, and how I should act, I could hardly parse out my ideas before my date with Mr. Cupid once I realized that the real dilemma was what to wear. I tore apart my closet, feeling every outfit was too cliché. Jeans made me look too American; all black was like I was trying too hard to be French. A dress said I was trying to look older, but a pink top screamed young and girly (it must be said the Mr. Cupid is in his early 30s, which he clearly sees as a big age difference; I don’t). I settled on a stretchy but not too-tight plain navy dress with 3/4 sleeves, oxford heels, a black blazer, and a few gold necklaces.
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