There’s a lot that I don’t remember from high school. Algebra. Most of the Italian language. But something my high school health teacher said about premarital sex is still embedded in my mind 10 years on.
She said that on our wedding night, when we have sex with our (future) husband or wife, all the other people we’ve slept with would be sleeping alongside us. She meant it figuratively, of course — she was trying to get us to think about promiscuity through the frame of premarital sex being a bad thing. How crowded, she seemed to be asking, did we want our marital bed mattress to be? Keep reading »
Relationships and experiences are a big part of what defines who we are. For many, names become guideposts or signifiers of those relationships or experiences. For a long time, I couldn’t accept my dad and so the allure of casting of the McDonell name felt like it might relieve me of some burden. Of having him in my life, of dealing with the ways I am like him, of seeing him for the fully complex person that he was. I understand the desire to change one’s last name as a marker of starting over, especially when there’s something in your past you want to close the door on.
For a while, my plan was to drop the McDonell from my name, and just be Amelia Parry. It would stay that way when I got married and then, when I had kids, my husband and I could … well, we’d cross that bridge when we came to it. Ideally, we would hyphenate our kid’s name just as my parents had done with my name, until our child grew up and made their own decision about what to do.
But so much has not gone as planned. Keep reading »
I got married on Friday. It is still all so very new that the wedding band on my finger distracts me every five seconds. It feels weird — a blissfully happy weird — to hear the words “my husband” come out of my own mouth.
But it’s never too early, apparently, for people to just go ahead and assume that I took my husband’s last name. Keep reading »
Ryan Leak, are you for real or are you a figment of the female imagination? Bow down to the man who overheard his girlfriend Amanda Roman saying that her secret dream was to get engaged and married on the same day and got to work making that shit happen. Not only did Leak figure out how to navigate his way around Pinterest (a skill that I have yet to master), but he managed to plan their wedding entirely from 224 re-Pins in her “My Dream Wedding” folder. WITHOUT HER KNOWING. Keep reading »
People have a variety of responses when they catch a spouse cheating. But Sonya Gore’s was by far the most creative. She had her unfaithful husband, Ivan Lewis, “prove his love” for her by posting a picture of himself holding a sign that says “I cheated on my wife!!! (and she was ugly!!!)” on Facebook. Gore has agreed to take her estranged husband back (they’ve allegedly been separated for the last two years because of Lewis’ previous infidelities) if her can get 10,000 Facebook likes. He’s currently at 5,457. Keep reading »
I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum. Whether it’s what I write about, the clothes I wear, or the choices I’ve made in my career, I’m not one to do things a certain way just because that’s how everyone else does it.
But even I surprised myself when my fiance and I decided to get married and picked a date just five weeks away.
Let me explain: Kale is Australian. I’m American. I have lived in New York City for the better part of 12 years. He took a yearlong sabbatical from his office job in Australia one year ago to come to NYC and pursue standup comedy. Boy met girl. Boy and girl fell in love. Month passed. Boy and girl realized, “Fuck, I don’t want to live my life without you!”
So we’re getting married. And we’re getting married soon. My therapist joked to me that five weeks is more like an “extended elopement.” A little more than a month is not a lot of time to plan a wedding, even a City Hall ceremony like ours. I’ve never been the girl who daydreamed about her wedding colors and her poofy white dress — but even I’ll admit this timeline is kind of crazy.
I’ve never planned a wedding before, or even thrown a really big party before, so it’s really trial by fire. Without further ado, here’s everything I know about how to plan a wedding — in only slightly more time than the gestation period of a rabbit — without going insane. Well … only going a little insane. I hope it applies to brides with more normal wedding planning time frames as well. Keep reading »
Let me start off by responding to those of you who thought I might be taking the New York Post profile about Stephanie Smith’s 300Sandwiches blog too seriously. I have no problem with sandwiches — in fact, Smith’s blondie ice cream thing is making me drool as we speak. I have no problem with her, actually. Smith seems like a very nice person. And her boyfriend Eric, though not even in the ball park of an Alexander Skarsgård look-alike, is probably a nice enough human being too. Although I did find his advice to woman about “how to keep a man happy” irritating.
What I think gave me the squickees about the story was twofold: 1) I hate the perpetuation of the idea that women in their 30s should be desperate or hustling for engagement/marriage/babies. Knowing that it took Smith 176 sandwiches to realize this was a misguided approach to her love life bothers me. We need to read about that for 176 sandwiches … why? And for the record, I still do think it’s weird that Eric made a “joke” about her being 300 sandwiches away from an engagement ring. Any joke that references “earning marriage” just doesn’t make me LOL. But maybe that’s just me. 2) This whole project reeks of a gimmick to get a book deal. Blog to book adaptations al a “40 Days Of Dating” are hot with publishers and producers and I’d be willing to place a healthy wager on the fact that this is Smith’s goal, even though she claims it is not in the follow up piece she published in the NY Post today. Hey, it pays to be a staff writer. I should know. This is my follow up piece. Keep reading »
If Z100 announces it’s “an emerging trend,” you know it’s time to run out and throw yourself a fake bachelorette party. At least that’s what single 20-something blogger Bonnie Gleicher and her group of girlfriends did. It’s unclear as to why fake bachelorette showers are suddenly a thing — why would anyone want to wear penis hats in public unless they absolutely HAD to? — but in Gleicher’s case, she and her friends chose to parade around NYC’s West Village in tiaras and garter belts, taking turns pretending to be the bide-to-be, to answer one question: How desirable is unavailable? The results of her social experiment were really interesting and also kind of sad. Keep reading »
Let’s play choose your own relationship adventure. Suppose one day you make your boyfriend a turkey and Swiss sandwich on toasted wheat bread. (This would never happen in my world because I don’t cook, but I am suspending disbelief for the sake of the game.) Then imagine that after he devours your sandwich he says: “Honey, you’re 299 sandwiches away from an engagement ring!” Do you: A) Break up with him because that’s an exceptionally bizarre and kind of sexist proposition and you’re not down with trying to “earn” a ring or B) Step up to the plate and prove that you are wife material by making him 300 sandwiches and and blogging about it?
In a somewhat disturbing New York Post profile, which reads as outdated advice about how to prove you’ll make a great wifey, Page Six reporter Stephanie Smith recounts how she took on the challenge of making her boyfriend Eric (described as a “Star Wars” obsessed Alexander Skarsgård look-alike) 300 sammies in exchange for a ring. Because to him, “sandwiches are like kisses or hugs. Or sex.” You can read all about Smith’s quest to woo Sandwich Boyfriend with cold cuts on wheat in enough time “to get engaged, married and have babies before [exiting her] childbearing years” on her blog, 300Sandwiches.com. Oh, she also shares her gourmet sammie recipes. Keep reading »
The New York Times Vows column is truly one of a kind. Week after week, the meet-cute stories land all over the spectrum, from the truly romantic to the strangely political to, very frequently, the totally twee and bizarrely short-sighted. To wit: this week’s tale, titled “Found, A Soul Mate,” which regales the romance of two yoga aficionados from the Hamptons. It begins like so:
People describe Erika Halweil, a longtime yoga teacher in the Hamptons, as someone who has a lot of backbone in every way. She has great posture. She rarely gets upset over things like parking tickets or bad-hair days. (Naturally pretty, she probably doesn’t have many.) She is sometimes stern but never shy.
Have your eyes rolled out of their sockets yet? Well, best to pick them up off the carpet, because this one only gets worse. Alongside the fawning anecdotes, the repeated use of the words “inspired,” “balanced,” “intense,” and “connected,” and oh yeah, some photos of the groom’s weird wedding slippers, NYT reporter Lois Smith Brady drops a bomb. Seriously, a bomb. Keep reading »