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LIBBY77'S BLOG

Do Men Really Fake Relationships?

Do Men Really Fake Relationships?

Women can fake orgasms. Men can fake entire relationships. This juicy tidbit marking the romantic distinction between males and females recently made its way onto my Twitter feed. Enjoying a brief chuckle after reading it, I soon realized how closely this alleged truth hits home: my friend Jay is in a fake relationship and I’ve been wondering if I should tell the girl.

You Had Me at Harvard

You Had Me at Harvard

A woman I know, who we’ll call Emily, wants to marry a doctor. Actually, she wants to marry a doctor, lawyer or anyone who makes tons of cash. Whenever I run into her, Emily shares stories about dating medical residents and rejecting normal guys because she’s “waiting for her doctor.” She’s very Shirley Feeney that way.

Justify Her Love

Justify Her Love

Why shouldn't Madonna, or any powerful woman, be able to sleep with handsome, young studs?

Can People Really Change?

Can People Really Change?

In June, I wrote a blog post about my friend Kim who resolved to change her wanton ways in order to better attract the loving, committed relationship she craves.  Kim has spent most of her thirty-plus years supplementing her life as a brilliant, professionally successful dynamo with moments being a horny, somewhat debauched wild child.  Kim finally realized the romantic patterns in which she has entangled herself keep her from the life she wants.  Now, she’s ready to change. A few days after posting the blog, I got a comment from a reader who thinks Kim’s desires to evolve are doomed.  According to him, “how a person has lived his or her life is the only indicator we have to predict how they will live the rest of it.” Ouch. The letter got me thinking about all the people I know who’ve either changed successfully, or wanted to change but failed miserably.  A gal

Men Who Self-Sabotage Themselves in Relationships

Men Who Self-Sabotage Themselves in Relationships

At a party weeks back, my friend Angela fell for a handsome Brit named Al after he charmed her with tales of his off-the-beaten track existence traveling the world. The next evening, they talked life and politics over a steak dinner then agreed to meet again. Al charmed Angela even more the next afternoon when he canceled plans with his buddies to join her on a trip to Verizon to get her phone fixed. After spending the afternoon and subsequent evening together, Angela thought she’d finally met a mature, baggage-less man with whom she could have a relationship. If only she knew. During a dinner party the following Friday night, Angela reached for her phone to discover Al had called. Six times. Though a bit ruffled, she decided to make her way to the bar where he was drinking with friends. When she arrived, Al was completely hammered, saying things like, “I shouldn’t have called you, are you angry? It’s just I couldn’t get

Stripping: The Smart Gal's Path to Success

Stripping: The Smart Gal's Path to Success

Man, I should’ve been a stripper. Diablo Cody, the Oscar-winning Juno screenwriter, popped into the news the other day after having given birth to a healthy baby boy.  Along with attaining gobs of wealth, publishing success and Hollywood kudos, the former stripper is also happily married now with child. No longer are sex workers the downtrodden, drug-addled outcasts of yore, at least not the ones who can string a sentence together.  Memoirs penned by former pole dancers and call girls flow through the publishing landscape like dollar bills at a Vegas strip joint.  Since Xaviera Hollander’s Happy Hooker in the ‘70s, it seems everyone from Harvard post-docs to failed Hollywood starlets have slept their way onto the bestseller list, having picked the locks on their sex industry diaries for all the world to see. Years back, a woman named Jessica Cutler hit pay dirt with a fictionalized account of her years Monica Lewinsky-ing her way through

Community: Screw The Rules, Find A Soul Mate!

Community: Screw The Rules, Find A Soul Mate!

Months back, my friend Corey got a peculiar email from a woman with whom he’d gone on one date. The email included an invitation to a second meeting, a string of compliments…and a picture of the girl buck naked. Corey spent the next several days titillated and curious, but mostly confused. What did the Naked Girl, as we named her, hope to achieve with such a move? If she was offering herself up as a booty call, should he dial her digits? If she was a damaged soul, how could he make a clean break? Ultimately, Corey was convinced to put an end to the madness. I checked in with Corey about the Naked Girl the other day. He’s still seeing her.