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Thanksgiving is a big day for my family. As secular Jews, we don’t really have many other options for gathering the troops around the dining room table, and we have fewer holiday traditions. But every November, without fail, a dozen … More
Before I continue on with my relationship column, I have to admit that I have some questions about the opposite sex.
Let me level with you. I’m a smart enough girl. I’ve been around the proverbial block. I’m in my late twenties, and I’ve had sex with, I don’t know, fewer men than years I’ve been alive. More than the years I’ve lived in New York. Anyway, I think I have a decent grasp on men. But I’m no expert. There are certain male traits I just don’t understand. Most of them concern sports and dicks. Some of these questions I ask my boyfriend, and some may well have no answers at all. More
I’m not perfect. Okay? I admit it.
Admitting it is the first step.
I’ve made my fair share of mistakes. As much as I like to pin the
blame on my ex-boyfriends, I am certainly not the perfect girlfriend.
In reality, I am a mess of flaws, accusations and excuses. More
A few weeks ago, Dan Savage started a movement online called It Gets Better. Inspired by the tragic suicides of young boys who were accused of being gay, he created a Youtube channel to give homosexuals an outlet to express their own lives, their own coming-out processes, and their own way of overcoming the ignorance.
It Gets Better hit critical mass when pastor Jim Swilly, a “megachurch” bishop publicly announced he is gay. He told his local news affiliate: “As a father, think about your 16-, 17-year-old killing themselves. I thought somebody needed to say something.” It was a moving speech. I wondered what took him so long to come out of the closet. More
Let’s say, for the sake of this column, you’re single. Let’s say you’ve been single for a while now, and maybe, just maybe, you’ve hinted to all of your friends that you have gone out with too many guys with too many issues. Let’s say your ex-boyfriend could easily be an extra in Jackass 3D. Let’s say he had horrendous halitosis. Let’s say you suspected herpes. Let’s say you talk about this all of the time. Let’s say all of your friends are settling down and you’re still sifting through the idiots and the rejects and you’ve hit a breaking point.
Let’s say your friend has had enough of your complaining and finally sets you up on a blind date. More
Flirting — an evolved iteration of the mating ritual — is a common sport among singles of all species. Birds flaunt their feathers, dogs sniff each others’ butts, and men use pick-up lines.
Pick-up lines have been around since the cavemen (“Hey baby, I invented fire — can you light mine?). Some of them actually work, such as “Can I buy you a drink?” or “I’d love to take you out. Can I have your number?” But most men don’t rely on such banal, successful lines. They prefer the embarrassingly bad lines that are so cheesy and inappropriate, it’s no wonder they’re still single. More
When I was a little girl, I thought The Princess Bride was the greatest love story ever. My parents called me a princess, and I expected to one day fall in love with a pirate-prince who would do everything as I wished. Then I grew up and realized I wasn’t a princess and no boyfriend of mine would ever fight off rodents of unusual size or pull me out of snow-sand. I’d be lucky if he’d kill a bug for me and take me out to dinner.
I was disappointed. All of the Disney princess movies had betrayed me as a child. Then, as a teen and twenty-something, romantic comedies had built up an impossibly high standard for love that eluded me.
I thought I was looking for the wrong kind of love, but now I think I was just watching the wrong movies. More
Previously, on the Heart Monitor:
“Listen, I love you. I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy! And if that means being more open about our schedules, then I want you to have full access to my Google Calendar. I want you to know about my appointments. I want you to know when I won’t be home.” He adjusted his weight onto one knee.
I stood up, bewildered. “This is all too much.” More
On Tuesday, Sept. 14, 2010, a little after midnight, my boyfriend sat me down and asked me a question that I knew would change our relationship forever.
I would be lying to you if I said I saw this coming.
This wouldn’t have happened if he had shown up on time. He never would have suggested it and I wouldn’t have to make the decision. But, as it happened, he didn’t show up on time. More
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Every relationship has its secrets.
There are the secrets about your relationship you dare not tell others — weird sexual proclivities, unfortunate hangups and deep-rooted insecurities that tie two people together with awkward strings of trust.
Then there are the secrets you keep from one another. Middle names, at first, cleared venereal infections and various lewd fetishes later. But at what point in a relationship should the walls come down? When does trust turn into over sharing? When can you tell your boyfriend about your recurring nightmare about Santa Claus and Donkey Kong? More
Step 1: The first rule of hormones is you do not talk about hormones.
If you suspect I’m acting hormonal, don’t actually use the word ‘hormonal.’ Don’t mention I might have PMS, don’t casually wonder what day of the month it is, and whatever you do, don’t be crass and ask if I’m “on the rag.” Who even uses rags, anyway? That’s disgusting. I can’t believe you think I would do that. Don’t you even know me at all anymore? Is this a joke to you? Do you think my body is funny?
It’s easy. Don’t ask, don’t tell.
Because, look, if I’m not hormonal and you ask if I’m hormonal, I will be insulted. There’s a very good chance that I’m just having a bad day. And if I happen to actually be PMSing when you ask me, I mean, is it that obvious? Can’t I still be angry for the sake of being angry? Do I NEED your permission to be mad at you? Or do I NEED TO CONSULT MY STUPID OVARIES before I STORM OUT of this ROOM? MAYBE I’M PISSED AT YOU BECAUSE YOU NEVER BRING ME FLOWERS ANYMORE. EVER THINK OF THAT, YOU LAZY, WORTHLESS, PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A BOYFRIEND? MAYBE THAT’S WHY. More
Nothing takes the romance out of a budding relationship quite like a cruddy odor. Bad smells can leave an even worse taste in your mouth. Ladies, gird your loins and hold your noses: here are the top ten foul-smelling, pheromone-killing deal-breakers.
1. Pedi-smell. The date was fantastic and the kiss was even better. You agree to go back to his place and make out on his couch for an hour. Things begin to heat up, and you slowly remove your clothes and take off your shoes when suddenly a smell so overpowering floods the room you run to the bathroom with your shirt in your hands covering your mouth so not to puke on his carpet. Foot odor can kill a hookup faster than a collection of troll dolls. And troll dolls don’t induce nausea.
2. Gym sweat smell. You’re impressed with his work out routine and even more so by his rock hard abs—too bad his sweat stench is less than impressive. And honestly, everyone goes to the gym and manages to soap off that work bench stench. But he somehow he still smells worse than a ripe junior high school locker room. Tell him to wipe off that sweat mustache and hit the shower already. More
Last week, College Candy published a list outlining the ten reasons it sucks to live with your boyfriend. It seems that Melanie, the Northeastern student who penned the article, recently moved her boyfriend in to share a two-bedroom apartment with her and her roommate. But it’s not all giggles and post-pubescent sex. More
We were gathered, once again, at a friend’s lake house in Connecticut to drink too much beer and smoke too many cigarettes. Some of us—the women—had quit smoking. The men ashed half-heartedly into empty beer cans. Just think,” someone murmured. … More
