Once upon a time, there was a girl. And her friend. And a boy.

Girl meets boy, girl likes boy, girl’s like is clearly unrequited. Friend hates boy, friend grows to like boy, friend and boy go out.

And boy, did the stinky brown substance hit the fan.

Rudge from The History Boys defined history as, “one f*%king thing after another.” This can also be applied to the demise of this relationship. One argument turned into some petty fight. Over a boy. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my friends, but back then, when they had a bust up, to a girl like me who’d always held the Hoes over Bros rule golden, this was sacrilege.

No, there are no happy endings, and no, they never made up. Yes, I am bitter and disillusioned, and yes, this is exactly why I don’t believe in hoes over bros anymore.

On Gossip Girl, Serena did the unforgiveable and slept with her best friend’s boyfriend. And sure, her best friend was angry and wanted revenge, but ultimately, she took her back. On One Tree Hill, Peyton nabbed Lucas’s heart, while her betrayed best friend, Brooke, was hurt. The scenario with my two friends, certainly didn’t end up like this. Three years of friendship and somehow a boy was still more important. Read More »

So, I’m the queen of bad decision making. I probably shouldn’t embrace this to the degree that I do, but screw it; I think with my vagina sometimes and I love being spontaneous.

When my ex-boyfriend offered to buy me a plane ticket to go visit him for a few days, I knew exactly what was up. We’d had some sexy online conversations during the recent months (in fact, I even blogged about our sexy confrontations a few times before) and sex, after all, was what had kept us together (in my opinion) when we were dating. I accepted the offer, hopped on the plane and wrote the whole thing off as a vacation in my mind, even if nothing more happened.

But of course more did happen. Of course we had sex multiple times in multiple ways in multiple places. Of course we cuddled and reflected on days of old. Of course things felt the way they felt when we dated.

Yes, I know that everyone thinks this is a bad idea, but after having spent some time and thought on this recent voyage of mine, I believe ex-sex can be done, if you do it right. If you are considering it, don’t write it off just yet; I’ve got some tips for a successful trip down memory lane: Read More »

I am an expert in awkward situations. When I first meet people, more often than not, I leave a horrible first impression. I am similarly awkward in my attempts to be a part of the dating scene.

Just last week, a coworker exclaimed, “Kathryn, you have no game. Your entire approach is off!” Yes, this is true. But somehow, I still get some action, which is why she followed her (rather harsh) declaration with the question, “How do you do it?”

Still, no matter how many times I’ve immediately wished I could retract the bizarre statement that just came out of my mouth, I’ve also been with, or had friends who have been with, equally hopeless guys.

Reviewing my own traumatic events, as well as some of my friends’ bizarre sexual encounters, I’ve compiled a list of some of the worst things to say during sex. Because I’m a woman, they are written from a female perspective, but each of these can be just as cringe-worthy coming from a guy.

1. “Ohhhh, Michael… I mean… Dan?”
Make sure you know the name of the person you’re inviting past the pearly gates. Calling someone by another name will at once crush your partner’s ego and make you look sleazy. Once, I was hooking up with a guy and he proceeded to pour out his feelings for another girl… and try to get my advice on how to go about courting her. That really sucked, and he was pissed when I cut our session short. Read More »

Friday is back at last. And we are happy. Why? Because we have no life until school starts again and for once – thanks to the Olympic games – it is totally acceptable to sit home on a Friday night. Eating Moo Shu. With our hands.

We do have a lot in store for the weekend. First up, a shopping trip to pick up the essentials: a sex machine, some not-so-slutty party clothes, some ingredients to woo that dude we met at Yoga (yes, he is a bit shorter than us, but he looks so good in Child’s Pose) and a little trip for Botox to fill in all those trouble spots from that trip to Vegas. (It was siiiiick.)

Then we have to plan that Welcome Week party and, seriously, just making the guest-list is a pain. Let’s just hope our ex doesn’t show up, cuz you know once that margarita hits our lips we won’t be able to keep our hands off him. (And we have to cuz according to Facebook, he’s got a new bitch.)

After that, it’s a Sunday filled with Disney movies, election coverage and, of course, scoping out the hotties at the Olympics.

TGIF. Enjoy it, ladies.

You know it’s wrong, but when you see your ex across the room for the first time since the big breakup/clothing exchange, rollin’ around in the sheets seems like the best idea in the world. You convince yourself that it will be fun, just this once, and that you both know what the deal is so there is nothing to lose.

But there is. And even the dudes agree.

If you are considering Ex Sex, read on. No one - male or female - thinks it’s a smart move. And trust us; we too thought it was brilliant at one point, but we learned our lesson and you should learn from it too.

He Said:
When you first break up, hooking up with your ex seems like the best thing possible, a naughty glimmer of hope in a dark sea of suckitude. What was your stupid girlfriend suddenly blooms into a beacon of sexiness. She dresses better, smiles more, never grills you about hanging out with your boys, doesn’t complain about what you’re wearing–even her boobs look bigger! It’s like breaking up was exactly what your mutual sex life—and your relationship–needed.

But it’s a trap.

A number of outcomes are likely. First, if it lasts more than a couple of hot nights, you soon fall back into the same, frustrating routines. Instead of just hooking up, you’re going to dinner with her grandma and shopping for crap you don’t care about. The arguing starts, and she’s once again lost that certain something. Basically, you’re back together-whether you admit it or not–and it sucks just as much as it did in the first place. Read More »

A recent article in the Gainesville Times discussed a woman who sued her fiancé for dumping her after she’d left her high paying human resources job and moved to a different city to be with him. And she won! The ex-fiancé received $150,000 for financial and emotional suffering.

At first, I was like, “WTF!, How ridiculous to bring your wounded heart and unsuccessful marriage into legal matters!” But, then I realized that maybe she had a point. I mean, an engagement is sort of a contract, or at least a promise of a long term commitment. And why shouldn’t this woman be repaid for her lost wages and emotional distress.

In fact, why can’t everyone receive that luxury? So, I got to thinking; what would I sue my ex for if I could? And this is what I came up with:

Dear Ex-boyfriend (who, shall remain nameless),
In seeing how you dumped me and shattered my heart into a million little pieces, I am taking you to court and suing you for the following: Read More »

Put this under Things You Should Not Do If You Want To Remain A Happy Person: finding out what your ex is up to now.

To preface, I’m not talking about the person you dated for a month who you kind of cared about but never enough to commit and / or introduce him to your friends. If you want to look through that guy’s Facebook or Myspace, go ahead. Seeing him with his arms wrapped around another girl will probably do nothing but make you kind of glad you’re no longer seeing someone who thinks weird neck tattoos of skulls are cool.

But look, if you loved the dude (or chick), and it kind of ripped your heart out when things ended, do yourself a favor let them remain a mystery. Don’t try to find them on Facebook if you’re not already connected, unfriend them if you are, don’t ask mutual friends about who they’re dating, and for the love of god, DON’T GOOGLE THEM.

I am a naturally nosey person, but after The Big Ex and I split up years ago, I refused to seek out information on the girl he started dating a mere few weeks after our 4 year stint ended. I knew my friends had info, I could tell by their eyes whenever they tried to jump away from the subject, but I never pressed them. And when information was accidentally spilled to me, I made a conscious effort to change the subject and told people “I really don’t care to know”. It was hard, because I did care to know, but I knew that need for knowledge was coming from a macabre place in my brain that loved to torture the rest of me. Read More »

When it comes to Facebook, you would be lying if you said you never found yourself looking at the pictures your winter vacation hookup (from 2001) just posted… or at the girl that annoyingly keeps writing on your boyfriend’s wall (and at all of her friends). I know, I know, you just randomly, somehow, stumbled upon them; you really, truly, only logged on to check your messages…3 hours ago. And now you are searching for that cute guy you met last night whose last name you don’t know (why did his name have to be Aaron?!).

Let’s face it; we’ve all stooped a little bit lower than we like to admit (logging on to a friend’s account to look at someone not in your network). Posted something for the sake of ONE person seeing it (an ex boyfriend perhaps? This picture totally screams “I am SOO over you”), or for the whole Facebook world to see (Look! I met Vince Vaughn! We sat at his table! This totally validates that I am cool. Take that all you who shoved me in a locker in high school!).

Every now and again, we all do a bit of random stalking or, as I chose to call it, investigative journalism. (The dictionary of my life says an email to my friends reporting my findings completely counts as journalism… “He’s single! Scooore!”) But with all this quasi-stalking that we do, we never really think that we are that important or fascinating enough that total randoms would waste their time looking at our photos from Halloween 2006.

That is, until it happens to you… and you find out.

And then, Facebook becomes really creepy. Read More »