It didn’t take long for me to figure out something about Nick* was different. Everything about him was outsized, super-charming and a bit impulsive. For our second date, he seriously considered whisking me away to Atlantic City for the weekend to go gambling. After only two weeks of dating, he told me he thought I was “the one.” He chatted a mile a minute, exhausting one topic and moving right on to the next without missing a beat. On our earliest dates, I literally felt as though I was his audience — though I didn’t exactly mind, because he was charismatic and bright and his life story fascinated me. I’m not the life of the party at all, so to be with someone who is the life of the party was extremely fun. When he finally told me after several dates that he had bipolar disorder and ADD, I nearly smacked myself in the forehead. Of course he does! I realized. He’s textbook!
My older brother Eliot* also has bipolar disorder (also known as manic depression). Eliot’s behavior when he has not been taking his medication is almost exactly like Nick’s. He’s just as impulsive, if not more so; a few Christmases ago, he tried to persuade me to ditch our family and drive to Foxwoods to go gambling. Eliot is also very charming, charismatic, bright and the dictionary definition of “the life of the party.” Our personalities are so different that our friends can hardly believe he and I are related.
So when Nick mentioned that he is not taking medication for his bipolar and ADD, I nearly smacked myself in the forehead a second time. Of course, of course, I thought. And then: F**k. Keep reading »
In the spirit of Columbus, Magellan and Lewis and Clark, I spent my teenage years as a fearless explorer of uncharted carnal terrain, reporting back to my tight-knit group of girlfriends with play-by-plays and handy tips from my randy sexual exploits. I was the ﬁrst in my high school crew of gals to do pretty much everything: kiss a boy, get felt up, get naked, get ﬁngered (in a movie theater), receive oral sex, give oral sex, and ﬁnally, have sex (on the ﬂoor of my high school boyfriend’s parents’ basement). A new world of experiences was opening up, and I took on my role as trailblazer with fervor, drive and anthropological scrutiny. That ﬁrst night on the basement ﬂoor, I remember thinking to myself, Wow, the cavemen did this! Keep reading »
When I was 8, some friends of my parents had a party at their house. The main attraction was a palm reader they hired to entertain the guests. “You will marry someone from your childhood,” she told me. I squirmed at the thought of love or marriage; I still thought boys had cooties. This same palm reader also told a woman at the party that she would be separated from her husband of 20 years. A week later he died suddenly of a heart attack. Keep reading »
Monday morning at The Frisky offices is all about weekend hookups, natch. Today, I had to share all about the guy who wanted to be called “sir” in bed — as in “Please, sir, may I have another?” Calling a guy “sir” in bed feels so formal to me. But I suppose if I’m going to ask a guy to call me a “slut” in bed then I cannot be too picky. I would draw the line at calling a man “daddy,” however. That’s just too much for me. Amelia gamely admitted a guy once asked her, “Who’s your daddy?” I would probably have told him “Mr. Wakeman” and then leapt out of bed to scrub my brain clean.
What’s the weirdest thing a partner has asked you to call them in the bedroom? Did you oblige or were you too uncomfortable? Tell us in the comments! Keep reading »
Virgo (August 23 – September 22)
Relax! Life is about to settle into a nice manageable pile of work, love, family, friendship and all those other things you find important, as you’ll finally get the perspective you need to put it all in order. Sure, this might only last for a short time, but anything will do, as a little bit of logic and peace will go a long way now. Keep reading »