I was an hour into my first date with Hot Doctor when he moved in for the kill. Lucky for him, I was so totally taken off guard by his kiss that I didn’t have the wherewithal to swat him away. Less than 10 seconds later, he went for my boob, and then it was Game Over.
“I thought I made it perfectly clear to you that I wasn’t looking to hook up,” I said, pushing Hot Doctor away.
“Well, you did, but that all goes out the window if you like someone right?” he responded, clearly confused.
What made him think that I liked him?
He looked nothing like the photos from his OKCupid profile — he had darker, thinner hair, was a few inches shorter and looked at least five years older. We agreed to meet up for drinks once he finished his nightly review class for his medical boards, but after a delayed dismissal and a few wrong turns, it was 10:45 p.m. before he made it to my neighborhood. At that point, knowing that my roommate was home and within earshot of the living room, I opted to just invite him in for a drink. It was already late on a work night, and if I’d had it my way, I would have already been counting shirtless Channing Tatums in my dreams for at least 30 minutes by then. Unfortunately, the doctor had arrived for his house call. Keep reading »
As I stood in the small studio on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, attempting a sexy pout for the camera, I felt my fears and inhibitions melting away. Posing for boudoir photos was the most fun I’d had in months. The real me, who I’d been stifling for reasons I hadn’t even begun to understand, had started to find her way back to the surface. Any thoughts that I wasn’t cute enough for this, wasn’t confident enough for this, wasn’t anything enough for this, began to fade away. I guess I’d thought that photo shoots like this were for other people, not me. Turns out that was the biggest lie I’d ever told myself. I wasn’t about to waste any more time feeling inadequate or not being incredibly proud of the person I was.
This experience, like so many bold decisions, started with an epic breakup. A big thing I realized when that relationship ended was that I had stopped trying new things or leaving my comfort zone. I was flat-out uninspired. I felt incredibly unsexy, and not necessarily in just a physical way. My spirit, at that point, was what could only be described as gray and lumpy. My trademark giddy energy was gone because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d learned something new or exciting. I’d forgotten how many adventures life had to offer. Keep reading »
When I first agreed to write Dater X, there were several things I accepted from the get-go: I knew that this column would require me to reveal intimate details about my personal life to complete strangers. I understood that in doing so, my sharing would be therapeutic, as I’ve always been someone who learns, heals and grows by sharing my stories—especially the most painful and heartbreaking ones. I also came to terms with the fact that my weekly musings would be met with various opinions and judgments, and that not everything I wrote would be well received. Above all, I felt confident that, despite any criticism that might come my way, I was ready for all of it; including the part where I find love at the end of this whole thing (fingers crossed). Keep reading »
This weekend, my boyfriend got a new Samsung Galaxy phone and accompanying smartwatch, which is exactly what it sounds like — one of those watch phones they’ve been promising us since “The Jetsons.” The next big thing is here indeed. But the next big thing is weird. At first, I was just so relieved that he didn’t get Google Glass because I wouldn’t have been able to be seen with him in public anymore. When that wore off, I realized the watch phone came with its own set of quirks. And let’s just say, the smartwatch and I haven’t quite made peace with each other yet. Below, some awkward scenarios I failed to consider: Keep reading »
Couples and singles often view each other with a mix of confusion, suspicion, and, sometimes, straight-up hostility. We all know, deep down, that someone’s relationship status doesn’t define them or instantly turn them into a cliche, but that sure doesn’t stop most of us from making some ridiculous generalizations — even if we’ve personally been on both sides of the coin. Are your married friends sublimely happy all the time just because they’re married? No way! Is your single friend really free to dog sit for you anytime because she has no life? Nope. We wanted to debunk some of these ridiculous misconceptions as a reminder that we’re all on the same team. Here are some of the most common misguided assumptions single people make about couples (and vice versa). Read on to see what assumptions you might be making… Keep reading »
As I approach my two-year anniversary as an online dater (AKA my slow descent into madness), I’m finding myself incredibly bitter about the fact that I still haven’t met “the one.” I’ve always believed that there are multiple soul mates out there for everyone, but that the one person you end up with is entirely dependent upon a series of choices you make in life. Kind of like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, I feel that every decision I make — from selecting a career path, right down to whether or not I should run a yellow light — will determine which of those guys I end up with. In my eyes, there’s a different one at the end of every storyline. After dozens of dates and three pseudo-relationships — the longest of which lasted two months — I’m starting to doubt my theory. Keep reading »
No boyfriend is perfect. But when you’ve taken one into your heart, you’ve made a silent vow to accept each other as you are, imperfections, foibles and all. You’ve asked him a quadrillion times to stop leaving his wet towel on the carpet, yet, faithfully, it ends up there after every shower. And each day, you pick it up and hang it on the hook behind the bathroom door because, you know that he will make you scrambled eggs with cheese, just the way you like them, without being asked. This is love. What redeems him for the mildew stain he’s left behind in your bedroom? The little things he remembers that make your heart cartwheel with joy. Remembering things like your anniversary are a given, but other personal details — like the anniversary of your gram’s passing — can mean so much more. Here are a few: Keep reading »
This past week, I got a bunch of messages on OKCupid. Some of the guys I’d never consider because I tend to avoid men who tell me they prefer to “stay home on most Friday nights and read poetry with a good glass of single malt.” Others seemed too old for me… and that’s not even including the scotch sippers. Out of the eight messages I received, there were two contenders that seemed datable.
Both were seemingly nice guys — attractive with ambition and wit. Hot Doctor is just finishing up med school and has a smile that would charm the knickers off grandma. The other guy, whom I’ve dubbed Sensitive Frat Bro, is a sweet entrepreneur who could just as easily be wearing a toga and chugging a beer on a Phi Kappa Tau recruitment poster. Eligible bachelors on free dating websites (and in life) are pretty hard to come by, so I decided to message them back. After talking to both of my suitors (one on Gchat and the other on OKCupid instant messenger) for several days in a row about things like family, hobbies, and careers, they both brought up the topic of sex. Keep reading »
Whether Stephanie Smith and her attempt to earn an engagement ring by making her boyfriend Eric 300 sandwiches and blogging about it annoyed you or not, you won’t be able to help but enjoy one woman’s reaction to the project. Freelance writer Stacy Brook, responded Smith’s joke, which apparently went over our heads, with a spoof blog, Ordering 300 Sandwiches, described as her “attempt to win a man’s heart, while expending as little effort as possible.”
Already on sandwich #18 for “J,” her creations like “The Shitty Bacon, Egg and Cheese on a Roll,” (“Today I ordered J a scrambled egg and cheese with bacon on a roll from the local deli. The sandwich was delivered two hours late, and without the promised bacon. Upon this discovery, I looked at J and said, ‘You better get used to disappointment. You’re 299 sandwiches away from a lifetime’s worth.’”) and “Half a Bag of Milano Cookies” (“I bought them, J ate them, and if the Italians are calling them ‘sandwiches,’ as far as I’m concerned, they count.”) are much more within my culinary and romantic comfort zone. Keep reading »
This HuffPost Live interview with Romeo Rose —the guy behind “Sleepless In Austin,” a blog offering money to someone who can introduce him to a woman who fits his absurd list of racist, slut-shaming requirements — doesn’t just have me wondering why this one person is sucking up so much media attention with his opinions on why he doesn’t want “a fat woman” and “the skin color of black is not pretty.” I’m also starting to feel uncomfortable that there’s actually something wrong with him … like Kony 2012 Jason Russell naked-public-meltdown wrong with him. I’m not totally sure Romeo Rose, vile and offensive as he is, is self-aware enough to realize he’s the joke here. He seems utterly sincere in this interview — which, by the way, is filled with racist, offensive shit towards the end and NSFW — in a way that’s, frankly, sad. Watching this trainwreck is starting to feel Hugo Schwyzer-esque. The interviewer, Caitlyn Becker, composed herself pretty well during this, but I’m inclined to think Romeo Rose’s next conversation should be with some good doctors. [Huffington Post]