Amanda Draper, a 34-year-old woman from Ontario, Canada, is married to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. During the day, her husband, 33-year-old Tim Draper, is a normal and loving guy, but as soon as he falls asleep he turns into an aggressive, sex-crazed monster, who tears off his wife’s nightgown, pulls on her flesh, and forces himself on her. Keep reading »
Word around the blogosphere is that The Knot, the website devoted to obsessing over wedding and engagement details, may be tanking. Though I’ve heard it’s a helpful resource for brides, I’ve never had reason to visit it myself (even if I were engaged, I’d be more of an IndieBride), but I took the news of its possible doom as an excuse to check it out and see what I’d been missing. Holy moly, you guys, the site’s better than porn…especially for its awesome message boards! After the jump, some one my favorite messages from the boards, all of which are reason enough to hope this site stays strong and survives the recession. Keep reading »
After almost six years, a wedding, and a house, there aren’t a whole lot of “firsts” left for my husband and me. In a few weeks, we’re adopting our first pet. When we have some spare money, I hope someday we can take our first trip to Europe. Maybe one day we’ll have our first child. But in the meantime, one of those rare “firsts” is coming up, and it’s our first Christmas as a married couple. It also happens to be the first Christmas I’ll spend away from home. Keep reading »
Maybe it’s because we’re forced to deal with our families more than usual during the holidays, but these can be trying times for women without rings on their wedding fingers. Aunt Esther’s annual grab at your left hand and subsequent clucking over your naked ring finger is annoying, but you write it off because she’s senile and will die soon. When your cousin Myrna gasses on about her impending nuptials over eggnog, you actually feel a little sorry for her because you see the way her betrothed keeps eyeing her sister. But when your baby sister flashes the rock that her professor-turned-paramour put under the tree, you succumb to a little condition called “The Ring Tizzy.” Keep reading »
You thought you had it all figured out. Marry a rich guy, you’ll never have to work, and you can spend the rest of your life shopping. Unfortunately, the global recession has thrown a wrench into your well-crafted plans. Now that sugar daddy bank accounts are shrinking, trophy wives are discovering they may be s*** out of luck when it comes to living the good life. In the UK, a trophy wife named “Katie” finds out she’s going to have to cut back on her mani-pedis and seaweed wraps — not to mention having her black AmEx snipped in half. “You loser!” she screams at her husband. “You’ve destroyed my life!” Trophy wives are becoming “Toxic Wives,” as their love for their significant others dwindles in tandem with their hubbies’ bank balances. Divorce rates are rising, and “for richer, for poorer” no longer applies. One wealthy husband turned to his wife in the middle of the night and asked her if she’d love him if he lost everything. Her reply? “F— no!” As it turns out, most toxic trophy wives aren’t leaving their husbands to join the work force. They’re looking for new rich men to replace the newly poor ones. [Telegraph] Keep reading »
There was one point during my wedding-planning process that I was afraid I was losing my mind and becoming what I feared and hated most — the bridezilla. Keep reading »
Not long ago, I met a guy that reminded me of that sexy NPR storyteller Ira Glass. Instantly, I fell in nerd-love with this doppelganger. After dating for a while, though, we realized we had only one thing in common: sex. So we decided to be friends with benefits. According to a Michigan State University study, sixty-percent of college co-eds have been involved in an FWB relationship, and plenty of my thirty-something girlfriends were doing it to stay satisfied, so I figured I’d give the laid back, no-romantic-attachments approach to getting laid a whirl. A year later, faux-Ira and I still hang out and hump. After our most recent rendezvous last weekend, I began to wonder what I’m doing. What are the real benefits to friends with benefits? Sure, now I have an in-case-of-sexual-emergency-hit-Glass-lookalike. At the same time, I’ve started to realize my situation is causing me to question the meaning of friendship, challenging my chances at romances, and wobbling my emotional stability. Keep reading »
I worship my mother. She’s smart, funny, annoyingly good at most things she does, determined, stylish, everything. And I’m still kind of scared of her. We’re talking about a woman who booked the date of my wedding before I even knew I was going to get married. That’s right—between the time that my soon-to-be-fiance Steve asked for my parents’ blessing and the time that he actually popped the question, Mom made a few phone calls. She already knew she wanted the wedding to take place in the fall. Many years earlier, she had told me this, and I had casually mentioned it to Steve in one of my casual reminders during the home stretch of our five-year courtship that I was ready to move forward. When he spoke to my parents, Mom asked what time of year he was thinking for a wedding.
“Fall?” Steve said.
“What a great idea!” she said. Of course it was a great idea—it was her idea. Keep reading »
The other day, one of the Guys On My IM told me, “Guys want to bang a model, a stripper, a famous chick, and maybe a flight attendant before getting hitched.” I’ve heard such sentiments before, though not from any guy I truly respected (I actually respect this particular guy, despite his pre-marriage hump list). Given how many guys go to strip clubs and get all google-y eyed for Gisele Bundchen, couldn’t this general statement apply not only to the men I know and love, but also most guys, period? I decided to ask the rest of the Guys On My IM for their opinions — and while it turns out that none of them have a strong desire to schtup a pole dancer, they all do have SOME sort of ideal bedpost notch list…. Keep reading »