Valentine’s Day is a minefield. Whether you’re single or hooked-up the potential for misery is high because, much like New Year’s Eve, it rarely lives up to its reputation.
Zergnet: Simply Irresistible
When you’re single, Valentine’s Day—with its flowers, chocolates and all-around coupliness—can feel like a cruel joke the world is playing to rub in the fact that you don’t have someone special. It can certainly be doldrums producing—but why let it be? This is one day where you have to take the bull by the horns, and then wrestle it into a teddy bear. After the jump, 10 ways single women can make Valentine’s Day into a celebration of awesomeness rather than a tear-inducing stressfest. Keep reading »
Yesterday I was idly reading the comments on one of my posts on The Frisky when a partner link caught my eye: “7 Things You Shouldn’t Tell Your Boyfriend.” Shouldn’t tell your boyfriend? I thought. I always told my boyfriend everything. Like, EVERYTHING. He knew about my bouts with depression. He knew about my brother’s struggles with drug addiction and alcoholism. He knew about how much I owe in student loans. He knew about my spanking fetish. He knew about my desire for dominant/submissive sex. He knew about the May-December romance I had with a 37-year-old man when I was 22. He knew when I farted and burped and had the flu. He knew what I looked like in sweatpants, in no makeup, and in sweatpants and no makeup. During the two years that we dated, he was my best friend Why wouldn’t he know these things?
Then a light went off in my head. I picked up my cell phone and dialed Amelia. “Do you think the reason our relationships didn’t work out is because our partners were our best friends first, instead of our lovers?” I asked. “Do you think we didn’t keep the romance alive?” Keep reading »
“Do you love her?” I finally asked my ex in the midst of our screaming match last late night. He paused for a minute. I could hear him breathing deeply over the phone line, slow and steady—he could have been at a yoga studio, contorted and wearing orange spandex, or practicing Lamaze breathing for the birth of his first child. Instead, he was verbally (and angrily) tracing the end of our relationship. The truth of his new relationship had been so obscured in various manipulations, that despite approaching a year of us not dating I really had no idea where “they” were.
“Yes,” he said, and my heart grew very still. Somewhere after he listed the third or fourth reason why she was better than me, I interrupted, “Stop. Just. Stop. I can’t do this with you anymore.” I hung up the phone, curled up in bed, and went to sleep. Keep reading »
Don’t get me wrong. I love rules. They’re great. They provide order. Structure. Prevent us from killing each other over the little things (Like your roommate eating the last of the Tostitos) and the big things (Like your roommate eating the last of the Lime Tostitos). Those rules are important, necessary even. But some rules, well they’re not quite as important, not quite as necessary. In fact, they’re not necessary at all.
Some rules, especially rules for girls, well, they’re just made to be broken…
1. Always behave like a lady. Prim and proper and absolutely perfect. Think Martha Stewart meets Sarah Palin. Or something like that. I’ve never been all that good with this rule. Read more… Keep reading »