The other night when a number I didn’t recognize flashed on my phone, I decided to answer the call and was greeted with a cheerful, “Hey there, it’s Andrew.”
“Andrew?” I replied, clearly confused about who was on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry. Andrew who?”
“From the bar on Saturday night. You gave me your number,” he said, sounding slightly defeated by my forgetfulness.
And then it hit me. I knew exactly who he was. He was my OKCupid run-in. Keep reading »
I’ve logged in lots of time Planet Single and Planet Relationship alike. Having experienced both, I can say that the life of a single gal and the life of a coupled/married lady are actually pretty different — and not just because when you’re partnered up, you become really motivated to finally toss out all those period-stained panties. After the jump, 14 ways a relationships actually changes your life … and five more ways that your life (for better or for worse) stays the same.
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You know that thing where you feel really, really embarrassed for someone you don’t even know? Where you cringe watching what’s happening to them? Where you squirm instead and think Oh my God I feel so bad for you that this exists? That’s how I feel about this 1996 clip of Jon Hamm on a dating show called “The Big Date.” Self-professed “foot fetishist” Mary needs a “sexy, hot man” who knows how to give a good foot massage. ”Jon” doesn’t just give a good foot massage, he gives a fabulous foot massage. “The Big Date” has been canceled. But clips of Jon Hamm promising an evening of “fabulosity” live on the Internet forever. [YouTube via BuzzFeed]
Online daters are always eager to share their horror stories — and, oh, do we have them! But, I feel like if your bad OKCupid date makes the New York Post, you’ve reached a whole other echelon of horribleness. A 22-year-old St. John’s University student, who wishes to remain anonymous, shared the grizzly details of her date from hell, well, because the police were involved. That’s how bad. Keep reading »
A few years ago, feeling stuck in a dead-end job, depressed, and lost in love, a friend of mine suggested I see her psychic, Donna, to help guide me through my tough time. I believed, and still do believe, in psychic abilities, but was hesitant and wanted to know that the psychic wasn’t just another fraud trying to make some quick cash.
“I’m telling you Donna’s the real deal,” my girlfriend reassured me. “She knew exactly when I was going to get engaged before I even had a boyfriend and told me small details about my past that she couldn’t have made up.”
I called Donna. She told me that my sister would have a failed engagement (which she did), and that within two months I would start a new, esteemed job at a company where they would be “ripping up carpeting” (I did, and they were), and that I was struggling with trust issues from a “uniformed male who broke my heart” (hello, Patrick Bateman). She reassured me that everything was panning out exactly as it was supposed to, and that she saw me ending up in a serious relationship, but that I needed to focus on me in the meantime. After speaking with her, I felt a renewed sense of hope. Her reassuring words helped me pull myself out of my slump.
After reading The Frisky post last week about Ami’s psychic love predictions, I felt like another chat with Donna might be just what the doctor ordered. So, I made another phone appointment. Keep reading »
I remember the very first time that I felt jealous and possessive of my husband. It was back when we were still dating. One weekend, he and his friends did a Bloody Mary bar crawl; I abstained because I’ve never been a big fan of Bloody Marys, but I was happy to look through the pictures Kale posted later that night on Facebook. Between all the tomato juice and the celery sticks, though, I found something I was not happy about: two pictures of him giving big smooches to a female friend on the cheek.
I really liked his female friend. In fact, she’s a friend of mine now, too. But at the time, I didn’t know her well at all and Kale and I were a fairly new couple. All I could see was my boyfriend, who was in love with me, being affectionate with another woman — who happens to be strikingly beautiful, hilarious and smart. I must have turned the brightest shade of emerald green.
I called up one of my girl friend’s to commiserate. Surely she would agree that not only kissing another woman on the cheek but posting the photos on Facebook for all to see was rude at best and troublesome at worst? Grab the pitchforks! Let’s storm the castle together!
But she didn’t say that. She said friends kissing opposite-sex friends on the cheek isn’t a big deal. She and her long-term partner do it all the time. She said I was overreacting. And, most cuttingly, she said my response to Kale’s photos said more about my insecurity than it did anything about him. Keep reading »