Though one or two exes might dispute this, I’ve never been one of those crazy girls. Under normal circumstances I don’t snoop, don’t obsess (too much), and am generally fairly sane(ish) in my dealings with the opposite sex. However, while I met my current, long-term boyfriend on Nerve.com, at no time in my life did I ever feel as nutso as when I was online dating on a regular basis.
Now that my profile has been deleted and I have the wisdom that, unfortunately, comes far too late to be helpful to me, I might be able to save you some heartache…
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The first time I met my now-close friend Gina, she was rhapsodizing about her awesome boyfriend, Eugene. After a few minutes, I realized I’d already met him. But he wasn’t the sweetheart she was describing.
I was familiar with Eugene because the weekend before he had propositioned me in a particularly crude manner. I realized I had two choices: tell her what kind of loathsome dirtbag she was dating or keep my mouth shut in the hopes that she’d someday figure it out on her own.
I went with Option A. I told Gina that she could do much better than that jerk and blurted out the whole tacky tale. She was understandably upset, but appreciated my candor. I was lucky—she dumped him, but kept me as a friend. Keep reading »
Few things are more entertaining than bad date stories. Who wants to hear about hearts and flowers when flatulence and festering sores are so much more fun? Which is why when my friend Sal wanted to share what she assured me were horror stories about her recent attempts at online dating, I was ecstatic – joke material!
As I slid onto the bar stool next to her, I noticed she looked a little down. I immediately felt guilty about my initial excitement. Hmm. “What happened?” I asked.
“Nothing really,” she shrugged. It seems she’d met up with two different men and both were just meh. “I had nothing in common with either,” she complained.
“And?” I inquired.
She shot me a look. “And what?” she answered. “They were both really boring.”
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How many times have you been out with a foxy new someone only to have him do or say something that made your stomach lurch—and not in an I-wanna-make-babies-with-him-now way. Maybe he was nasty to your waiter. Perhaps it was more subtle—he snickered when you tripped or didn’t introduce you to the attractive “friend” you ran into. Then again, maybe there was nothing you could articulate, but he just felt off. How many times have you ignored that feeling?
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Well-known peacenik Mahatma Ghandi famously proclaimed, “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” Sorry, Ghandi, but I beg to disagree. The sad fact is, there are times in a lady’s life when revenge tastes pretty sweet. (Even in a blind taste test.)
One of those times is after some cad shatters your tender little heart into a billion tiny shards. Sure, embracing the gloom is one way of dealing, but who are you really hurting by forcing ice cream down your pie-hole whilst weeping over Lifetime movies and stalking his Facebook page? Answer: Yourself.
Wouldn’t it be more fun to hurt him? The dude who done you wrong? Keep reading »
For the first two years of my relationship with my Large Greek Boyfriend, his mom didn’t acknowledge me by name. I was simply, “The Girl.”
“Are you bringing The Girl?” she’d inquire when he made plans for family dinner. “Does The Girl like spanikopita?” Being a typical dude, it didn’t register on the BF’s radar, but her refusal to eke out more than those two syllables made me paranoid. Did she not like me because I’m not Greek? Had I said something stupid during our initial meet and greet? He assured me she liked me just fine, she just didn’t want to bother learning a name if I wasn’t going to stick around.
Whatever the case, his mom’s inability to say my name paled in comparison to 28-year-old lawyer Anna’s mother-in-law. “I met her at our wedding and the first thing she said to me—her new daughter-in-law—was, ‘So, are you pregnant?’”
Annoyed, Anna told her she’d have to wait and see. Things got worse after Anna gave birth to their son (two years later, thank you very much!). “The doctor came in to ask how I was doing and before I could answer—and in front of everyone—my mother-in-law asked the doctor, ‘How much for a paternity test?’” Sweet! Keep reading »
Nowhere is the difference between men and women so glaring as when it comes down to the demise of a relationship. Specifically, the unexpected, unwanted, one-sided break-up otherwise known as the dumping.
A dumped dude might get angry. Then again, he might just get depressed and mope quietly in his room. He may go to a strip club or pick up a one-night-stand at a bar. What he won’t do is call up all his buddies and poll them about what they think his ex really meant when she quit returning his calls. Nor will he tearfully declare that said ex must have been either too intimidated by his devastating intellect and/or simply too in love with him.
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When I questioned a friend about why she was marrying a guy whom she found only mildly attractive, didn’t enjoy having sex with and wasn’t in love with, she told me this: “Marriage isn’t about love, it’s about finding the person who gets on your nerves the least.”
I recall being both horrified and saddened by her cynicism. But as I pondered it further, I wondered if she might have a point. I was single at the time. A long-term relationship had gone bust a few years earlier and after a hyper-extended mourning period I’d been dating a seemingly non-stop parade of utterly unsuitable suitors. Keep reading »
How much do you really need to know?
I still remember the day I walked into my house only to be confronted by my entire family staring at me like I was an alien as my mother shrieked through her tears, “Thank god you’re home—I thought you were dead!!!”
Um, what? Keep reading »
Recently, I discovered that one of my best friends had ditched me after I logged on to Facebook and found her profile had disappeared from my page. We’d been having problems that had culminated in a huge argument the day before, but I figured we’d get through it. I figured wrong.
Still, being given the heave-ho by way of a social networking site? My first reaction was to laugh. I mean, we’re adults. Unfriending me seemed tantamount to toilet-papering my locker or scribbling my phone number on the boys’ locker room wall. Keep reading »