Happy Friday, friendsters. Many of you, particularly federal employees and bankers, have a three-day weekend to look forward to. And the day before any long weekend is generally spent feverishly work or is totally bo-ring. Either way, here's the best of the web from this week:

The Frisky is on to you, fellas. They've compared your "number" (number of sexual partners, that is) to census data and something is not adding up because the average lady's number is much lower. Do you think both genders may be fibbing or did they not take into all the Canadian chicks that the … Read More

I used to be one of those self-righteous types who declared I'd sooner break up with a man than stoop to snoop. This stance wasn't because I was noble or had never been tempted—I'm not and I have. I just remember all too well the day my mother read my journal aloud to my entire family. I was 17 and, as you can probably imagine, that book was bursting to the seams with embarrassing, angst-laden, mawkish, teenage drama. To say I was mortified ... well, that doesn't begin to describe the way I felt. The Frisky: Dear Wendy: "Should … Read More

So you married your soul mate and are about to walk down the aisle towards the start of something special. Don't be alarmed if there's a tugging at your sleeve as you link arms with Mr. Wonderful and head off into the horizon.

That's not an overzealous bridesmaid biting at your heel; it's your husband's mother.

Before becoming your husband, the man of your dreams was the center of someone else's universe, his mother's. Mama's boy or not, your husband's mother had first dibs on your guy even before you were old enough to walk, let alone say "I … Read More

As a semi-live-in girlfriend, I encounter all kinds of things in my boyfriend's boudoir that he might have previously attempted to put away or hide to create a more presentable version of himself. Well those days are long gone and I am now subject to every dirty pair of boxers, week old Taco Bell leftover and wet, mildewed towel left on the bed. But these things I'm pretty much immune to. Guys' rooms are almost by definition a hell of a lot dirtier than girls (at least I like to pretend) and all of these little things Read More

Two weeks before my 40th birthday, my husband of five years told me he wanted to be with a woman he worked with at Citibank more than he wanted to be with me and our 14-month-old daughter.

I was nearly paralyzed with fear. How was I going to make it as a single parent? What was I going to do? I was becoming thinner by the minute. My size eight clothes hung off of me, but there was no one to care or tease me that there was finally room for my shirt and rear end to share a pair … Read More

He's done it before: left me alone in his apartment. But I haven't done this—until now. It's not as if these boxes haven't always been filled with photographs; it's not as if these leather notebooks weren't always filled with his handwriting; it's not as if the evidence hasn't been lying around, out in the open, just begging for a little attention. But today the itch to explore is a little too itchy, and I guess our love is a little too, uh, lovely—so I'm not even waiting for him to leave.

Soon, my heart is racing.

I can feel my neck pulsing, … Read More