This past week, I unfriended an old friend from high school because he posted a really douchey comment on my Facebook page, and the whole debacle got me thinking about Facebook Friend Dealbreakers: those annoying/offensive/stupid things that always send us searching for the “unfriend” button. I polled the rest of the Frisky staff and we came up with 20 dealbreakers–from major infractions to minor pet peeves–that will get you kicked off our friend lists. Check ‘em out after the jump, and please add your own in the comments section! Keep reading »
Roommates get a bad rap. And often, for good reason. I’ve had some seriously insane ones. There was the girl who made everyone leave their socks outside and the guy who left an imprint of his balls on our bathroom floor where he powdered them every morning. He was fun! The four years I spent living on my own were absolute bliss. I dropped my underwear in the middle of the floor, slept with the TV on if I felt like it (I like to fall asleep to infomercials) and sang Queen songs at the top of my lungs. But when I moved back to NYC, financial necessity dictated that I have a roommate. As luck would have it, there was a vacancy in my best friend’s apartment. I say best friend, but I should also mention she was my roommate in college for three years, so I knew we could cohabitate peacefully. In total, we’ve lived together for eight years now. Sure, I look forward to living alone someday again. Or maybe, if I’m lucky, with a romantic partner. But there are so many wonderful perks of having a (non-crazy) roommate. Check them out after the jump. Keep reading »
Having a frenemy sucks. But at least there is some sort of unspoken agreement there—that you both acknowledge the sense of competition. The other night, some friends and I were talking about the concept of frenemies at a bar and I realized that I actually had my very first one in high school—only I had no idea that’s what was going on. Leslie* and I were best friends for about a year. But though I couldn’t identify it at the time, there was definitely something off about our friendship. Leslie would always ask me what score I got on a test, only to tell me that she had done better (even if it wasn’t true). And when I told her about the awesome job I’d gotten at a local movie theater, she apparently went in and applied without saying a thing to me about it. But the worst was when I told her about a mega crush I had on a guy in one of my classes. Apparently, at a party one night, she made out with him. When another friend told me this, I confronted Leslie. “Oh,” she said. “I wanted to find out for you if he liked you or if he would kiss another girl.”
At the time, I actually thought, Of course! She was just doing reconnaissance for me. I’m so lucky to have a good friend who looks out for me. But now I get it: she always needed to one up me to make herself feel better.
Talking to other women, it seems like a lot of us had this type of proto-frenemy relationship like this and didn’t quite realize what was going on. After the jump, The Frisky staff tells their tales. Add yours in the comments section. Keep reading »
Best friends talk about everything. There’s nothing you have to hide from your biffle. Dirty laundry and everything, your best friend will always be by your side.
…At least that’s what we always hear.
But there are some things that we just don’t want to talk about, even with our bestie. Some secrets are best kept bottled up inside, tucked away into a dark corner in our minds and never spoken of again, right? Riiiiight.
So what are these things that we never want to share, you might ask? You know what I’m talking about. Click through for some reassurance on the secrets that make you squirm just thinking about ever mentioning to your best friend. Read more… Keep reading »
There’s that scene in “Mean Girls” where Tina Fey, exasperated by the high school antics, shouts, “You’ve got to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it okay for guys to call you sluts and whores.” I had just graduated from high school when the movie came out and sitting in the theater, I couldn’t believe how much this line resonated for me. All of a sudden, I was transported back to those halls I’d just escaped. I could hear the cool girls greeting each other at their lockers with the words, “What up, sluuuuut?”
Reclaiming words like bitch and slut may have started as something political, something third wave feminist, but the words ended up in malls, emblazoned in rhinestones on baby tees at Deb and Rave. Keep reading »
A new study found that mutual dislikes — rather than likes — help humans bond initially. “There’s something really powerful about the discovery of shared negative attitudes,” said Jennifer Bosson, the lead researcher on this study. She found that we tend to connect when we have a third entity to demean because it makes us feel as if we instinctively understand each other better.
I know this sounds awful, but I think nearly all of my long-lasting friendships (and some relationships) began this way. My childhood best friend and I met when I was accidentally seated next to the kid who picked his warts and ate them in first grade. I cried so hard that the teacher changed the seating chart. My new neighbor and I talked about how weird Wart Boy was and we’ve been friends ever since. I met my college best friend on the steps of my freshman dorm. An awful frat guy tried to make a pass at me and I made fun of him. She laughed. We became instant besties. I know we are taught to be nice and perky to make friends. But screw that. I will continue to form bonds over things I dislike. It’s more fun that way. [NY Mag] Keep reading »
It’s time again for “Shortcuts.” For every question, I’ll give my advice in three sentences or less, because sometimes the answer to a person’s question is so obvious and the need to hear it so great, being as clear and frank as possible is simply the best way to go. Today we discuss guy friends who want to take things to the next level, mercy-killing a relationship, and guilt over being “the other woman.” Keep reading »
There I was in the grocery, pressing the ends of a cantaloupe and sniffing it, trying to decide if it was ripe. Across the produce section, I spotted my landlord. I waved, a normal courtesy I extended the two times a year I happened upon him in real life. He left his cart, and came rushing towards me. As he came closer, I realized he was mad. “Why haven’t you paid your rent in four months?” he yelled.
I felt adrenaline surge through my body. What was he talking about? I always paid my rent. Never so much as a day late. Every month, a week before it was due, I wrote a check to my roommate and best friend, Leah*. Keep reading »
I am 25 years old with lots of girlfriends and a sizable collection of purses. Reunions with old pals usually involve squeals or hefty grins and, yes, cute bunnies make me go “aww.” For some girls, these moments of elated feminine energy are non-stop, but I can only take small doses.
A former tomboy, at 13 I was jumping in mud puddles (still am), and at 18, I was wearing torn jeans with paint spots. It wasn’t until I was 21 that I learned how to walk in high heels. Keep reading »