This is my story... and the reason why I'm not happy...
The exact arithmetical chances of finding your perfect partner? 1 in 285,000. A math tutor at a U.K. university used the same formula that was used to determine how many civilizations might exist in our galaxy and applied it on a much smaller scale to his hometown of London. It turns out that on any given night there are probably 26 girls in the U.K. who might make a suitable partner for him.
Some people say they "just knew" that they were dating their future spouse. But what about the rest of us? What happens when you're not sure if he's The One? If you're considering long-term commitment or marriage, it's time to ask yourself some tough questions. Below, ten signs that may indicate he's not the one for you.
The New Year is off to a bittersweet start for Neenah Pickett. The New Jersey media consultant, 43, spent all of 2009 searching for love and not finding it. Still, Pickett emerged with hope and pride intact. At her Web site 52 Weeks 2 Find Him, she chronicled her dozens of dates and introduction to online dating and social networking sites—her message being that finding the love of your life should take work. "I did not put any effort into dating and went on two first dates in 14 years," she said of her past approach. "I thought, 'If I give all my effort like I do in my career and other areas of my life, will that make a difference?'"
Living together in a really tiny apartment. How to be a bad boyfriend. Chaps who go to all-boys schools become bad boyfriends, usually. What the contents of her purse mean. Learning love from the Jersey Shore. Surprising stats about sex and fidelity. Joy Behar says Rachel Utichel is a hooker (more or less). Maybe monogamy is the unusual thing, hmmm? Delving into the meaning of mixed tapes. Alienation of affection. Loving her feet and disclosing a foot fetish. When you discover someone who is almost, nearly "the one." And why didn't he call you back?
Is there really a Mr. Right? If so, how do you find him? Dr. Diana Kirschner gives some great advice and urges everyone to keep an open mind when seeking "the one." Give advice and read what others had to say here: Does Mr. Right Exist? Got a question? Ask it now at http://www.yourtango.com/questions
Our story had all of the makings of a great love story. Once upon a time we met one evening in a dark, crowded party. He told me I was beautiful. I was young enough for him to appear larger than life. We kissed on the sidewalk in the rain. I fell hard for him—hard like scrape-me-off-the-floor-with-a-spatula hard. But we were wrong for each other in every way. We were young, immature, and troubled. It ended tragically—Sebastian stood me up on a cold, snowy New Year's Eve and the two of us never spoke again. I went on with my life.
An Aussie mathematician named Dr. Clio Cresswell (from the University of Sidney, of course) theorizes the exact number of frogs one must kiss before finding a prince (the one). In her book, Mathematics And Sex, the mathlete claims that you can get to about a 75 percent likelihood of finding something that will last using her quantitative analysis.
Buzzfeed posted a great list from Tiny Cartridge of "Boyfriend Criteria," including the usual "smart," "cute," "funny," and the more unusual like "did not pick Charmander as first Pokémon." There's also a list of pluses ("glasses," "good shoes," "good tattoo") and minuses ("annoying," "too tight pants," "think you're sooo smart"). Since I'm getting married in three days (!!!), the list got me thinking about my "husband criteria" and how well my fiancé fits my list. After the jump, see how he does.
Beshert is a Yiddish term that expresses how soul mates are "meant to be together." Building on my family's unwavering faith in this beshert thingy—my parents met when they were 17 and my grandparents when they were 16—I assumed that I, too, would be welcomed into the warm, loving arms of this soul mate phenomenon. I vowed to keep my eyes peeled for my one and only perfect, dream lover—the man who would sweep me off my feet and love me as no one else ever had, my soul mate.
Gollum slithered around the picnic tables in a bald wig and a loincloth. Bilbo Baggins manned the barbecue. An elf with pointy ears asked if we had any veggie burgers. My boyfriend, David, and I had not come dressed for the "Lord Of The Rings" theme for his family's annual group vacation with their friends. But costumed or not, I knew I'd be under scrutiny: I'm the first woman he'd brought along to introduce to everybody in his 26 years of attending. As Gollum lumbered by towards the card table full of key lime pies and cookie burgers, I turned to David and grinned. "Real love," I said, "is spending the weekend with your parents and their friends when everyone is dressed like Hobbits." He grinned back and we kissed. Forty-eight hours later, David and I decided that we would move in together, waking up next to each other every morning and falling asleep together every night.
Since time immemorial (like the 1940s) guys have argued about the superiority of certain female archetypes; namely: are you a Betty man or a Veronica man. The question goes much deeper than blonde vs. brunette, rich girl vs. girl-next-door or even steadfast vs. capricious. But after seven decades of dithering, old Archie has finally made a decision, which is a step in the right direction.