My friend Michelle and her on-again-off-again were off. Again. She complained that he just wasn’t going to the right lengths to win her back. “I need a big gesture,” she said. “I need roses. I need tears. I need Lloyd Dobler on the front lawn with a boom box raised over his head.”

Another friend, Laura, had not met anyone even halfway decent in months, and was starting to wonder if her best friend, Tiny Tony—a sweetheart who is unfortunately short, bald, and bulbous—might be the guy for her after all. “I’ve never been attracted to him or anything,” … Read More

The most wonderful date that Colin and I ever went on was just two months after we started seeing each other. We sat in a plush red booth at The Carlyle hotel in Manhattan, listened to a jazz trio, talked, laughed, and sipped champagne. Afterward, we strolled down Madison Avenue arm in arm: he in a crisp jacket and tie, me in a little black dress and a pair of Gucci heels that I had gotten for free at a publicity event, but had never before had the occasion to wear.

Back at his apartment, I was impressed and delighted … Read More

In the summer of 1978, my mother accidentally flooded her boss's apartment, and got sued. It's a long story. The important part is that the young lawyer/aspiring rock star she hired to represent her later became her husband—my father. They settled the case out of court within a week. Afterward, she invited him to dinner, ostensibly as a thank you, but really because she had decided that he was The One the instant she stepped into his cluttered office and saw his wide smile and thick black curls.

According to my father, Read More

My friend Michelle and her on-again-off-again were off. Again. She complained that he just wasn't going to the right lengths to win her back.

"I need a big gesture," she said. "I need roses. I need tears. I need Lloyd Dobler on the front lawn with a boom box raised over his head."

Another friend, Laura, had not met anyone even halfway decent in months, and was starting to wonder if her best friend, Tiny Tony—a sweetheart who is unfortunately short, bald, and bulbous—might be the guy for her after all.

"I've never been attracted to him or … Read More

An ex-boyfriend once told me that he couldn't stand two-faced women.

"And by two-faced," he explained, "I mean the sort of woman who wears so much makeup that she looks one way when you're out with her at night, and then totally different the next morning. That’s why I love the way you look. You don't feel the need to get all dolled up in blue eye shadow—you're just so natural."

When we moved in together nine months later, the jig was up.

Living together has plenty of benefits, but preserving the "I just rolled out of bed looking this … Read More