“I’m sooo busy!”
I’m soooo over this phrase. So over it I want to throw something when a person says it. Usually at them. I’m sooo busy is code for, “I don’t care enough about you to remember to text or call or see you.” Telling someone you’re sooo busy isn’t an excuse. It’s an insult.
You know who’s busy? Doctors. Doctors are busy. You know who else? New mothers. I would not trade places with them for a minute. Everyone else? Nope. You’re really not that busy.
We all want to think we’re that busy. But, we’re usually busy playing Candy Crush or perusing other people’s “busy” lives on Facebook or watching “Scandal.” We’ve become too lazy to pick up the phone and get back to someone. Keep reading »
We’ve heard about the harrowing statistics of the single woman to man ratio in NYC and most of us have experienced it in action first hand. Absolute losers seemingly have a hundreds of women to choose from while the most awesome women you’ve ever met inexplicably can’t meet anyone. [SO TRUE. -- Amelia] Although this is billed as a New York problem, it’s a problem in many cities.
A dating site, The Dating Ring, believes they have found a simple solution to the single man drought in Big Apple: outsource the women of NYC to San Francisco where available men are bountiful. Keep reading »
Let me set the scene for you. One day you’re at the grocery store, dutifully squeezing all the avocados until you find the ripest ones, then moving them to your basket. You have your headphones in, you’re concentrating very intently on the task at hand, and you’re really not thinking about anything other than the guacamole you’re going to consume while watching “True Detective.” As you continue your thorough work of squeezing and replacing the avocados, your hand touches something warm, something tangible, something human — the calloused, strong hand of your dream man, a tall man-bun sporting, flannel wearing carpenter, a Ryan Gosling in “The Notebook” meets Jared Leto’s hair with a dash of McConaughey’s Foghorn Leghorn swagger. [Dream man. -- Amelia] You drop his hand, you gasp, he smiles. Numbers are exchanged. Drinks are had. You share this improbably cute story with everyone you meet, and are greeted with a variety of emotions ranging from derision to laughter to misty-eyed joy. You marry under a canopy of Etsy-sourced mason jar tea light holders and gingham and drive off in an old convertible, the “Just Married” sign bouncing against the bumper. That’s your life under the spell of the meet-cute. Keep reading »
Cliches. They drove your 10th English teacher crazy. But I would say they have lasted as long as they have for a reason— lots of them are true! Wisdom can actually be very simple. Below are some cliches that have stood the test of time and are actually great life advice in disguise. I feel cheesy even writing some of this stuff, but bear with me: they’re worth remembering sometimes! Keep reading »
This week on Date-Ade, the advice series for all your existential dating dilemmas, I discuss how to get over a stubborn crush on a not-so-good-for-you co-worker
If you have a sex, dating or relationship quandary that you’d like for me to try to unravel (no promises), send your questions to email@example.com or tweet @TheFrisky#DateAde.
Breakups suck, whether you’re the dumper or the dumpee. No matter which end of the fray you’re on, there follows a mourning period, a delicate time in which you probably lash out at friends, obsess over details of the way things ended, and make ill-advised decisions about ice cream for dinner and browsing on Tinder. It’s impossible to make generalizations about how long a breakup takes to process, because every single relationship and situation is its own special snowflake. I can’t tell you what it feels like to be a part of your breakup, because only you were there to experience it. The adage about using an equation involving the amount of time you were together as the “x” factor for how long you should be upset after it ends is stupid, plain and simple. That being said, here are some rough guidelines on acceptable mourning times, from someone who has been through her fair share of breakups. But feel free to ignore them if you feel like wallowing for an extra month or six. Keep reading »