A year and a half ago, I sat on my therapist’s black leather couch, talking to him about the last few guys I’d gone out with. I’d been on a cold streak—one where I’d meet a guy and be very taken with him, only to never hear from him after our second or third meeting. (Usually, the second. But you already know how I feel about that.) I was starting to ask myself the question that far too many single women ask themselves: Am I doing something wrong? Or worse: Is there something wrong with me? My therapist had a thick European accent, which I liked, since I felt like it gave extra weight to his words. “You present yourself as a strong, accomplished woman,” he said. “I wonder if men sometimes feel intimidated by you.” I practically rolled my eyes. Really, this was his advice? I started to fight him, explaining that I don’t think being accomplished is a problem, and if a guy sees it as such, that’s really his issue.

“I’m not saying don’t be successful,” he said. “I’m wondering if you could show them some of your vulnerability.” Ding ding ding. He was completely right. I didn’t have to pour my soul out to strange men, but I could easily share with them the part of me that wasn’t so sure about everything and that wondered whether I had made the right career decisions, etc. I left his office that day feeling like I had made a breakthrough. But now I think that one conversation may have ruined my dating life.

Last night I was thrown for a loop when I ran into a long-ago ex at a party that he had no business (that I could fathom) attending. I was not happy to see him. In fact, over the past ten or so years, I’ve made it a point to avoid being anywhere he might be. I haven’t been pining; he’s someone I actively avoid because he’s psychotic and I had no idea what he—or I—would do if we ever crossed paths again. I’m not a violent person, but the thought of stabbing him in the eye is not an unpleasant one.

When you’ve tracked as many laps around the block as I have, you’re bound to run into the occasional ex—even the ones you’d rather forget. As the rage disappeared along with the tequila in my glass, I got to thinking about how just the random act of running into someone can ruin, or make, your day.

When I showed up at the bar, Doug* had not arrived yet. I had seen his picture (he was an online acquisition), so I knew roughly what to expect. I am not a superficial broad and I can usually find just about any dude attractive if he has a good personality. Based on the few emails we exchanged, I felt fairly certain that at worst Doug and I would bond as friends. His emails were funny, honest, and open. “Now that’s what I’m looking for!” I thought to myself. “A guy who can communicate!”

“So ... I’ve kind of been hanging out with American Boy,” I confessed hesitantly on the phone to my friend, S. I held my breath, a bit worried about what she would say. S and I went to high school together (she is, in fact, my only remaining friend from high school), and she now lives in Paris. It was through S that I met American Boy in the first place—they’ve been friends for a while, and I met him at a group outing in a bar back in September. I wasn’t sure how S would feel about me tumbling into bed with one of her good friends. Not that she would be disappointed, necessarily, but that she’d maybe feel awkward about the whole scenario. I should have guessed that it was just me who felt awkward about the whole scenario.

Sometimes dating is pure joy—basking in the thrill of meeting a potential Mr. Right can be exciting and energizing. But other times, dating is a chore. It’s discouraging—after so many people you should have clicked with someone by now, right? How come your relationships don’t last—or never even get started?

The idea of going on a blind date can seem nerve-wracking. Contrary to common misconception, blind dates can actually lead to long-term relationships. Here are ten reasons to consider going on a blind date.

Pull up a seat as women across America dredge up memories about their worst dating experiences.

“The worst date I can think of was the time I was taken to Waffle House in the part of Cincinnati where you’re advised to roll up your car windows during the day, and to carry pepper spray at night. Not only was I scared, but also the food was bad and I was asked not to get a meal over $5. The night was topped off by a bad ‘80s movie about break dancing that I couldn’t watch anyways because my date’s friend had a foot-tall Mohawk, and insisted on sitting in front of the tiny television. I don’t mind cheap nights at Waffle House, Mohawks, or bad movies, but combined and on the first date, it’s just not impressive. Woo a lady first!” —Amanda King; Fairbanks, Alaska

I was deeply disappointed by the latest poll at Don Q’s Lady Data. According to Don Q’s secret lady spies, 85 percent of women want to date a guy that’s taller than them and 0 percent want to date a guy shorter than them. What? That’s crazy! No love for the shorties? For all of you shorty-hating ladies out there, I think the 8’1” Sultan of Turkey is still single. I’m sure you’ll find him drop-dead sexy holding that 1,435 pound gingerbread cookie he presented to the Guinness Book of World Records in Norway yesterday.

Here at The Frisky we like all shapes and sizes of gingerbread cookies … er … men. Whether you’re super short or freakishly tall, we don’t discriminate. And in case you needed any extra incentive to go out with that hot, vertically economical guy, here are 10 reasons why you won’t be disappointed.

People always freak out about first dates. But as a 30-year-old woman who’s been dating on and off for, oh, the past decade, I’ve mastered the art of a first date. You meet and have a drink to loosen things up. You talk about what you do, what you’d like to be doing, and where you come from. If it’s not going well, you can tell within 10 minutes and get the heck out of there. If it is going well, the conversation juts out in complicated tangents. You find yourself laughing, and leaning in closer. You realize that the amount of information you have about someone is increasing exponentially each minute. There’s the thrill of when you accidentally touch each other. And then there’s the first kiss, where you find all sorts of lovely idiosyncrasies, like that the bad boy has the softest lips you’ve ever encountered. No, first dates are easy.

It’s second dates that I fear.

Oh my God ... the holidays are approaching. That dreaded time of year when those who are single are reminded over and over again that they are, you know, single. I’ve already decided I’m not going home for Thanksgiving, nor will I make a visit for Christmas, which means I’ve had holiday planning on my brain. Stay in Paris and hope friends are around? Or take a little trip by myself, maybe to Venice or Brussels?

Le sigh. The way things stand now, I’ll probably spend New Year’s alone, without a kiss. Ah! Why do I think this way? That conclusion comes from my neurotic, rational side which tracks my future from today to December 25th—no serious boyfriend prospects right now, plus 47 days or so isn’t enough time to fall in love AND get invited to his house AND get kissed on NYE. It’s just how it is, folks.

I had known Billy for five years through mutual friends, and at some point we started hanging out independently. I was still sailing on the friend boat when Billy indicated his winds were now blowing from a different direction. I wasn’t interested in him romantically then, but we did seem to get on quite well. And so ensued several months of friendly, flirty hangouts, during which I grew more and more fond of the fellow.

This is a story about a dysfunctional relationship. It was between me and my bedroom closet, and I know you know what I’m talking about.

I guess I’ve been lucky in my romantic dealings with coworkers; one turned into a long-term relationship that outlasted the job and the other two were just pleasant dalliances that fizzled out naturally. Which is probably why I’ve always rolled my eyes when I hear so-called experts yammer on about how you should avoid dating people you work with at all costs. I mean, sure, stay away from the boss or anyone who reports to you, but if you’re both on equal footing, who cares?

I was conversing with a dude this weekend about imbibing alcohol on a first date -- how much is too much and even too little. As someone who enjoys a good glass/bottle of wine, especially paired with food, dating someone who drinks is kind of, well, important to me. No offense to any readers who don't drink (especially those who are in recovery), but it would be difficult for me to date a non-drinker. That said, I don't want to date someone who can't have a good time without boozing it up either. I always do my darndest not to get drunk on a first date, mainly because I want to make the best decisions possible if I'm just starting to get to know someone -- and I certainly would be buggin' out a little if my date got smashed while I remained fairly sober. So, what about you?

I haven’t been much of a believer in gut instincts until now. I’m one of those neurotic, analytical, thinks-too-much girls who tends to question her reasoning and feelings. But in the past few months, I’ve let go and gone solely on the gut. It’s what made me leave my job in New York and what brought me to Paris (so, thanks, Gut). And last Tuesday night, as I was rushing to my date with TDH (the tall, dark, and handsome Frenchman whom I met through friends), my gut was telling me, “This is not a good idea. This isn’t going to go well.”

It’d be great if dating and flirting were easy—things you could approach with excitement and nonchalance. Unfortunately, that’s not always the case. You want to make a good impression on your potential love-interest, yet the very act of pondering how the other person perceives you can make you less confident! Below are four tricks for making a great first impression whether you’re cruising the pick-up scene at a bar or on a first date.

A wise Mind of Man once told me, “Generals are always prepared to fight the last war.” People—well, OK, I—try and work through the crap of their last relationship with the person they’re with currently. This, I think, explains why, for the better part of my adult life, I have been a complete and total spaz when it comes to men and dating. I know, shocking right? if I was a spaz before the relationship with my ex-fiance, I was a complete and total bunny boiler after he broke up with me. I was an insecure, over-analytical nutter and wasn’t sure how, when, and what it would take for me to stop fighting a war in which I was the only participant.

Like the David Letterman Debacle wasn’t bad enough, now we have the story of Steve Phillips, the ESPN analyst, who had an affair with a 22-year-old coworker. Unfortunately for the 46-year-old sports dude and married father of four, his latest dalliance (and apparently there’ve been many before her) turned into a bunny boiler when he broke it off with her.

Brooke Hundley, the jilted junior, went ballistic, repeatedly emailing and calling Phillips’ long-suffering wife, tricking their 16-year-old son into an online flirtation, and then finally showing up at the family home, scaring the crap out of everyone.

Lucky for Hundley, the Phillips declined to press charges, but her reputation, both professionally and personally, is shot. (His too. He’s since been fired from ESPN and has entered a treatment facility.) Obviously, being some cad’s side action is always a sucker’s game, but if you’re going to do it, do it right.

We know, we know, this may come as a shock to many a single lady, but contrary to popular belief, the emergency service 911 is in no way, shape or form to be used as a way to pick up hot cops. One woman called for a legit emergency, and after police came to her house, dealt and left, she called the line again to ask if they would send the guys back because she was interested in asking one of them out. They came back alright, to arrest her for misusing 911. D’oh! [Fail Blog]

When you go on a dinner date, do you eat at a fancy restaurant with cloth napkins, multiple courses, and a sommelier on staff? Or do you stop at a hole-in-the-wall that serves what are supposed to be the best hot dogs in town? According to an article in today’s New York Times, stuffy restaurant dates aren’t the preference these days for many people.

In general, people have gotten a lot more casual over the years; this has certainly been reflected in dating—from casual sex to casual restaurants. While I like wearing dresses, I’m definitely of the mindset that going to a cheap, hidden gem is usually much more fun and gives you a better chance to get to know someone than dining at a high-class establishment does (unless you want to evaluate his table manners). How can you even concentrate on getting to know someone when you have to think about which fork to use?