So today’s Question of the Day is: Why, when a man enters into a new romantic relationship with a woman, does he instantly cease communication with any and all friends of the female persuasion, and maintain lack of communication for the duration of the relationship?

Answer: …I don’t know. I have theories, of course (I always have theories), but truthfully, I have no idea, maybe because I’m a woman, and even when I’m in a relationship, I keep in touch with all my friends, be they male or female. I was thinking about this question because it’s something that came up in two separate conversations with two different friends, who were bewildered, angry, hurt, frustrated, etc. with male friends who made like Houdini and disappeared from their lives as soon as another woman entered the picture.

And for the record, I would call women to the carpet on this as well, but I honestly haven’t noticed this trend in women as much as men. Sure, everyone becomes a little less available when they’re in a relationship, but I can’t think of any woman that I know who cuts ties with male friends as soon as she has a boyfriend. So, you know, if you’re thinking about bitching about that, just stfu.

Anyway, here are my theories:

1. Men can’t multi-task and can only focus on one woman at a time.
2. Their girlfriend’s feel threatened by their boyfriend’s having female friends, and pressure them to cut ties (guys who do this are pussies, but that’s another topic for another blog).
3. Boyfriends THINK they’re girlfriends will be threatened by them having female friends, and cut ties (these men need to give their girlfriends more credit).
4. The boyfriend’s themselves feel threatened by the presence of a female friend, because of past emotional/physical involvement, and so decide that the best course of action is to completely remove the temptation from their path.

So those are my theories. I don’t know if they’re accurate, or total bullshit. If anyone has any insight on this, I’d love to hear it, and I know my friends would too. Class dismissed.

On Friday night, as the three of us were walking down South Street to meet up with a group of friends for dinner, we noticed a gaggle of girls, about our age or a little younger, shivering and slipping as they navigated the slushy streets wearing only sparkly strapless mini-dresses and stiletto heels, with nary a coat or hat or scarf, because they apparently forgot that it’s December and it’s the Northeast and it’s fucking freezing.

I remembered that Drew had written a comment on Facebook last month (or last year, as it were) wondering why women seemed to lose all common sense in the face of a night out on the town, shunning the unattractive “warm jacket and sensible shoes” look for the clearly more alluring “hypothermia and headlights” look.

“Hey Drew,” I said as the gaggle hobbled past us, “aren’t those the girls you wrote about on Facebook?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Why do women do that?” Then, answering his own question like any red-blooded 25-year-old man would: “I mean, at least they’re easy targets.”

Then Adam, sagely: “Look at lions. They don’t go after the healthy gazelles. They go after the diseased ones that can’t outrun them. That’s what those girls are like – diseased gazelles.”

Thus inspired, I decreed that henceforth, all stupid bitches who run around in skimpy clothes in the dead of winter, explicitly offering themselves up as easy prey for an easy lay, shall be known as diseased gazelles, and furthermore, did my best to popularize said terminology by pointing them out (often rather loudly) as we scampered around Philly the rest of the weekend. (And in case you were wondering, the male equivalent of a diseased gazelle is the guy wearing a popped collar or Ed Hardy (or both), lots of bling, a backwards baseball cap, and a spray tan).

Anyway, I really feel like this phrase could catch on, and really help me leave my mark on pop culture in 2011. I mean, I’m already off to a good start – I had two dates for New Year’s Eve, and that was with me wearing a coat and sensible shoes.

Happy New Year, everyone!

While it’s that “It’s all your fault” attitude that keeps people like my therapist in business, I’m game enough to accept a gauntlet when it is thrown before me. So go ahead, Philly guys – tell me what I should do to attract your attention. Tell me about the kind of girl who catches your eye in a bar, in a store, on the sidewalk, and what she does to make you approach her. Any guys from New York, or anywhere else, feel free to weigh in as well. Could be interesting to see if what attracts a guy varies geographically (although I’m fairly sure T&A works everywhere, so no need to point that out, fellas.)

Seriously, in my recent experience, every time I meet a guy who is friendly, engaging, and not a complete tool, he’s from somewhere on or near Manhattan island. What’s up with that? Is it something in the water? Does living in a city of 7 million people give you better manners towards women? Is the thought of potentially getting some foreign Philly pussy that enticing? I don’t know, but I do know that Philly guys, you need to step up your game.

Ok, I guess there is more to the story than that. Last night my friend Julie and I met up for drinks at local watering hole Good Dog. Seated at the table next to us were a young man and woman, probably in their late 20s, early 30s, and an older man, late 50s-ish. Fine, whatever. Didn’t give them a second look or thought. Julie and I had a pleasant time catching up over beer and sweet potato fries.

When the check came, I went up to the bar to get change, and as I was going back to my table, past our neighbors, the older guy came up to me, pressed a folded-up napkin into my hand and said, “If you’re interested, give me a call.”

There is not much in life that renders me speechless, but that certainly did. I looked at the guy as if he had lobsters crawling out of his ears, stammered an “Ok,” and scurried back to my seat where I tried to pretend that the last 30 seconds of my life didn’t happen. But they did. The balled up napkin with a name and phone number scribbled on it currently residing at the bottom of my trashcan is a testament to that.

But, I mean, seriously?! The first time I’ve been hit on in a bar in I-don’t-even-know-how-long, and it’s by a guy who was already middle-aged when I was still in diapers? This is what my life has come to?

The only thing that made me feel better was when I got a text from Ang Brockman telling me about how she too had been hit on last night – by the guy dressed as Santa at Dave & Buster’s. As she said, “There is no winner in this game.” I think I have to agree.

I think this sentence sums it up best: “What we found is that marriage, whatever its social, spiritual or symbolic appeal, is in purely practical terms just not as necessary as it used to be. Neither men nor women need to be married to have sex or companionship or professional success or respect or even children — yet marriage remains revered and desired.”

Pretty much. As a college-educated woman with a full-time job and higher career aspirations, I know that I could support myself financially well into the future, barring any unforeseen disasters. In today’s social order, there would be nothing amiss or wrong with me being a single woman for the rest of my life. But personally, romantically, emotionally speaking, do I want to be married someday? Hells yeah.

Perhaps because it is as Andrew Cherlin, a sociologist at Johns Hopkins University and author of The Marriage-Go-Round: The State of Marriage and the Family in America Today, says in the Time article: ”Getting married is a way to show family and friends that you have a successful personal life.  It’s like the ultimate merit badge.”

Especially if you, like me and many of my friends, grew up in a small town environment where old-fashioned values prevail. Where I come from, marriage is just something you do sooner or later. It’s a rite of passage, a symbolic gesture that says “Look how well I’ve got my shit together.” Of course, most of us know that being married doesn’t necessarily mean you have your shit together, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t going to give it the old college try, to prove everyone wrong. After all, doesn’t each generation love to think they know more than the previous one?

I’d love to know what you all think of this, especially since I know many people who are already married/engaged, others who are co-habitating, and others who just don’t give a shit.

Or, if this is all too heavy for 4:30 on a Friday afternoon, here’s an alternative – a cat’s butt that looks like an elephant! Enjoy

While Kate and Will’s  subsequent nuptials will no doubt be closely watched by many of us across the pond, a recent study shows that fewer Americans are giving the institution of marriage as much credit as they once did. According to this article from AOLNews, a recent poll conducted by the Pew Research Center and Time magazine revealed that thirty-nine percent of  Americans think marriage is becoming obsolete, compared to twenty-eight percent in 1978.

Honestly, I don’t know if I’m surprised by this or not. Based on the number of people that I know who’ve gotten engaged or married within the last three or four years, I’d say marriage is far from going extinct, even among the Millenial generation. Even among people I know who don’t want to be married now, a good percentage of them (myself included) want to be married at some point in time. Blame it on my small-town Catholic upbringing. Or blame it on the fact that in a world where so much is temporary, ever-changing, I want something that’s  (at least somewhat) permanent and stable. Or blame it on the fact that maybe somewhere, deep inside the recesses of my black, whiskey-soaked heart, there’s still enough hopeless romantic left to believe in a love strong enough to want to make a promise to be with that person until death do you part.

1. At least two close friends nearby.
2. Vibrator (Like I even need to explain this one.)
3. An education
4. A pair of fuck-me boots
5. The Pill
6. A place of your own/the experience of living on your own
7. One shirt that makes your tits look great, and one pair of pants/shorts that make your ass look great
8. A sassy gay friend
9. The ability to look at yourself in the mirror, and be happy with what you see
10. A flask (Because whiskey ain’t cheap, yo.)
11. A purse that you don’t care how dirty and destroyed it gets (For crazy bar nights)
12. One friend who will always tell you the truth
13. One friend who will always tell you what you want to hear
14. A driver’s license
15. A pair of underwear/lingerie you’d never want your dad to see
16. One dish/meal that you’re great at preparing
17. A bank account in your name
18. Cheap, funky jewelry for going out
19. Nice, good-quality jewelry for special occasions
20.. A signature scent
21. A really good massage once a year
22. A close male friend to be your big brother and look out for you.
23. A goal (personal or professional) to work towards
24. A wine opener
25. A great pair of jeans
26. Time to be on your own and get to know yourself
27. One movie/song/book that always makes you laugh, and one that always makes you cry
28. A pair of versatile black pumps
29. One friend who’s always up for a crazy night on the town
30. Cab fare
31. A go-to drink that you can always enjoy
32. A little black dress and a little red dress
33. Enough income to not need a guy to pay
34. Chocolate
35. Comfy sweatpants
36. A passport
37. A male friend who’s fun to make out with but too flawed to date
38. A camera
39. One outfit that always makes you feel sexy
40. Confidence

Remember, this is not about general necessities that you need for everyday life – cell phone, keys, job, coffee, Facebook – but things that enable you to be a fiercer, sexier, more kick-ass woman.

Shoot me your suggestion in the comments, and be on the lookout for the list in an upcoming post!

Ang Freakin’ Brockman, whom you all know and love, and I have recently had similar experiences in which we’ve reunited with an ex-boyfriend (hers from last year, mine from a time when dinosaurs roamed the earth, i.e. freshman year of college) after not being in touch with them for a long time.

The most remarkable thing about these reunions was how totally unremarkable they were. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s been great seeing my ex, catching up with him, hearing about all the cool stuff he’s done in the past few years, but the best part is I can hang out with him and not want to curl up in the fetal position crying or punch babies in the face. Finally, I’ve transcended the emotional barriers of a former love into that peaceful valley known as friendship. As Martha Stewart would say, “It’s a good thing.”

Or, as I more eloquently put it to Ang while we were talking about all this on GChat: “Look how mature Ang and I are! We can be friends with our exes! Go us!”

Ah, it’s the little things in life that get you through the day…