Once upon a time the law of attraction was a simple one. Women were attracted to the hunter who could kill the largest beast, the strongest Alpha male who, in turn, would bring home the most food to support the family. Genetics and "status," therefore, went hand-in-hand.Sunday, September 6, 2009
The laws of attraction
Once upon a time the law of attraction was a simple one. Women were attracted to the hunter who could kill the largest beast, the strongest Alpha male who, in turn, would bring home the most food to support the family. Genetics and "status," therefore, went hand-in-hand.Sunday, August 23, 2009
PUT ON A HAPPY FACEbook
Facebook and various social networking sites have taken the world by storm. We have the voyeuristic opportunity to see what our friends are doing all the time, anytime. We have witnessed party pics, engagements, quiz results, wedding/baby photos, status updates, career changes and lives unfold. In most cases, we are privy to the absolute best version of our friends. They use it as a portal to showcase the wonders of their lives and share what they feel will present themselves in the best light. Thursday, August 20, 2009
The (not so) hard and fast rules of dating
They're ubiquitous in the dating scene: I only date guys with blue eyes; no bad tattoos; no sex for the first 90 days; I only date men with beards. Rules may help daters weed out the duds, but experts say they can also shutter windows of opportunity. More... Poker face or big blind?
I went on my first date at 16 years of age. That means I have had 14 years -- nearly half my life -- to perfect the art of dating. I would like to think that I have matured during this time. I know how to play the game and while I would rather not, I know it is a must for the beginning of a courtship. Guys know this too and unfortunately most of them have spent their dating life figuring out how to read their cards and call our bluff.Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Single in a couples' world
Read the rest: Canada.com.
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Thirty and *gasp* single

It started about five years ago. Everyone – and we mean EVERYONE – got married. Being in a university sorority meant we knew a lot of women – some as close friends, some as acquaintances and some simply as recurring names in the endless stream of gossip that permeated our lives as part of the so-called “Greek system.” Back then we were like all the other girls – crushing, flirting, dating, crying, begging, breaking up, getting back together, falling in and out of love and, from time to time, daring to dream of our future weddings. What would the dress look like? How many bridesmaids would we have? And – most importantly – who would the groom be? We were all travelling the same path at that time; all puzzling over the complexities and emotions of “being in a relationship;” all wondering (and worrying) – when would that wonderful, white day, with its “I dos” and promises of everlasting love and happiness, come?
And then we came to that big, fat intersection. You know the one. You can either take a right, hit cruise-control and coast down scenic Wedding Way, where the sun shines and the birds sing and all the floral arrangements match the place settings or hang a left, shift into four-wheel drive and do your darndest to navigate Lonely Lane, a rocky, winding, unpredictable route fraught with potholes, landmines and seats at the singles’ table (it’s the one at the back of the room, in case you didn't know). Read more.
