Monday, March 29, 2010

8 Habits That Destroy Marriage

Yea I know, who made me the marriage expert yeah? Well, as usual, I found an article I deemed important enough to share so here we go:

We'll say it straight up: There's no good reason in the world to hang onto these habits. They aren't helping.

1. Nagging, nagging, nagging. We know about the squeaky wheel, but complaining loud and long gets you only short-term gains and builds up powerful discontent on your spouse's side.

2. Blaming, criticizing, and name-calling. These tactics belittle the person you promised to love, honor, and cherish; let you play angel to his or her devil; and don't address the responsibility you both share for your marital happiness.

3. Bullying, rudeness, and selfishness. These ugly power plays tell your partner that he or she doesn't count at all in your eyes.

4. Peacekeeping and passive placating. A "whatever you say, Dear" attitude may keep your home quieter but leaves you in the martyr's role. You'll end up angry, defensive, and a drudge. What fun is that?

5. Deploying logic all the time. Life isn't the starship Enterprise; playing the dispassionate Mr. Spock not only cuts you off from your feelings but also subtly tells your spouse that his or her feelings don't count either.

6. Throwing up distractions. You're just having fun, right? Think again. Being hyperactive, fooling around all the time, and refusing to focus—in conversation or in life—often is an attempt to avoid intimacy or difficult issues, which can be horribly frustrating for your mate.

7. Stonewalling. Another stall maneuver, stonewalling stops arguments and constructive discussions cold. Not much can happen when one spouse just won't talk about it.

8. Making unilateral decisions about the big things. Sometimes you have to pick the bathroom paint color on your own. But if you're making major decisions about your money, your time, your kids, and your family life, you're acting without accountability and cutting off the possibility of joint decision-making and deeper intimacy.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

9 Things He Will Never Tell

Now I seem to be a hotmail...lifestyle fanatic cos I keep seeing great articles I cant help but share...I find this article particularly interesting and enlightening esp for we chics(just my thot)...depsite its been ages I blogged last.....damn I so need to keep up....ok so here we go:

Man's mouth is like the back of an armored truck. We like to keep the door to our thoughts closed, locked, and protected by armed guards.

Why? Simply because we fear what trouble would spill out if you knew everything we keep inside. We fear you'd think we were pigs or pansies, and frankly, we fear for our safety (there's no correct way to answer a question that includes the words "fat" or "tummy tuck").

That said, we'll let you borrow the key—just this once—and take a look in this truck of valuable insight. Inside, you'll see the very things a man will never tell you about himself—and a few about you.


Thing 1: I Love You
©iStockphoto.com/Stepan Popov
I love you more now than I did when we first met. I don't know why we never tell you, so let it be known that I do.

Of course, we adore the women who gave us the 2 best days of our lives: when our kids were born and our wedding day. Now how about I go ahead and give away that baseball card collection?

Thing 2: My Own Time
I want to be alone. Not forever, not every day, and not just because I need 17 seconds to take care of the second thing on this list.

Men just want guys' night out to hang, drink a pitcher, watch football. We don't bring it up as often as we want because we think you'll get insulted.

Look, wanting to distance ourselves from our home base doesn't mean we don't like the team we're playing for. Give me a couple of hours every week and it's like giving Viagra to our relationship. It'll be longer and better.

Thing 3: Role Reversals
I desperately want you to buy me a drink (or throw me to the floor). As a predatory species, we're used to doing all the hunting.

We buy drinks, make the call, send flowers. We're bred to hunt, and we accept that evolutionary responsibility. But we're a tired species too. We're tired of the miles we've traveled searching for you, the enemies we've fought to win your attention, the damn droughts we've had to endure.

All we want is for you to occasionally take on the role of predator. Please attack.

Thing 4: Fighting
I wish you'd fight like a guy. When two guys go at it on the basketball court, they get in each other's faces, yell, push, call each other pricks, then move on.

When you fight, I feel like I'm giving testimony you'll use against me in a trial 3 years from now.

That's why I flick to the Spanish channel when you want to mix it up. I'm exercising my right to remain silent, because I know it will be used against me in the court of you. Can't we just say what we need to, be done with it, and slap each other's butts?

Thing 5: Cards
I pick cards for you solely based on the picture. Really, how is some Hallmark hack going to properly sum up what I feel for the woman who sizzles my bacon? Gimme two kids holding hands, and it's a done deal.

Thing 6: My Hang-Ups
©iStockphoto.com/
I hate the way I look. You think you have issues? Men have more hang-ups than a telemarketer. We might walk around like chest-thumping primates, but our list of insecurities rivals yours.

Men may never admit they're bothered by their shoulder hair, or the fact that they're hung like a tugboat instead of a torpedo. But we're sure to pull out humor, intellect, money, or millions of other things we can control to compensate for the things we can't.

Thing 7: I'm Selfish
I'm selfish. The fact that I resist getting a dog doesn't mean I hate animals.

I see my future, and my future involves putting my hand in a plastic bag to pick up warm pug feces twice a day—for the next 12 years. The only thing I want to scoop 8,760 times in my life is butter pecan.

Thing 8: Singing
I'd much rather perform duets, but I have contractual obligations with my hormones to make solo albums. When it comes to the bedroom, women take offense if a man needs to take the microphone into his own hands—like it's a sign we're not satisfied with you.

Look, a solo performance is no substitute for the many beautiful tunes we've recorded together, but scheduling conflicts mean that we may occasionally need to riff by ourselves.

And hey, singing solo helps cure our insomnia, decrease stress, and keep us from putting finger-tapping indentations in your shoulder.

and finaaallllyyyyyyyyy
Thing 9: Girly Stuff
I like The Bachelor, Bioré nose strips, and piña coladas. Testosterone prevents us from admitting this to most women or within 500 feet of another penis. But be assured that we can call on estrogen reserves as needed.

Need someone to talk Bachelor smack with? Bring it on. Firestone made the best choice of them all, Bob's a doof, and Jesse's only shot at completing a pass all year was with Trish.

Friday, September 4, 2009

He's Not Perfect: Would You Marry Him Again?

This is MAJJJOOOOORR LOOONNGG....but MAJOR interesting(for those who are patient enough)
If you want the perfect marriage, go to a Doris Day movie. Actress Rita Wilson (married to actor Tom Hanks) learns a big fat Greek secret from her mother about long-term love.

It's a sunny, Sunday California morning. My husband is driving my mother, father, and two of our four children to church. This is the same church where I was baptized with my brother (two for the price of one!), where my sister was married and I was her maid of honor, and where my husband and I were married 23 years ago and both our youngest children were christened in the same baptismal font where, lo those many years ago, my brother's and my cries were applauded and celebrated.

Driving on the freeway, my mother, who is vibrantly curious after 89 years of life and 59 years of marriage, tells us about something she heard on the radio. She had been pondering this question, thanks to the airwaves: If you knew at 25 what you know today about your spouse, would you still marry the same person?

Since it is already a beautiful day, my husband and I add to its beauty by responding instantly, that, yes, we would marry each other knowing what we know now. My father, although not usually available to this sort of discussion, generously engages and answers that, yes, he would marry my mother all over again. My mother, always interested in good discussion, responds delightfully in her thick Greek accent as if she knows the question to the "Double Jeopardy" answer: "Not me!"

Now, please understand that my parents are Greek and Bulgarian. The idea that this is a subject that one would only discuss after five years of therapy never enters anyone's mind. (When you are Mediterranean, you just speak now, argue later ... or maybe you eat now, argue later.) Certainly, these two people, who are sitting with their arms brushing against each other, are not about to announce they are splitting up. I'm pretty sure that after nearly six decades, three children, and six grandchildren, they have the marriage thing down. But I have no idea where my mom is going with this.

Before we go anywhere, though, let's start at the beginning. In 1946 my Bulgarian dad "jumped ship" in Philadelphia, making his way to New York City, eagerly learning English while working at the St. Regis Hotel. My Greek mother had escaped from her ethnically Greek but geographically Albanian village during the war, arriving in New York via Athens with her mother, sister, and two brothers.

My parents met in 1950 in New York City at a Greek-Bulgarian dance. My dad eyed my mom across a crowded room and asked her to dance. He wooed her briefly and then asked her to marry him. My mother, still new to the United States, thought maybe she should wait a bit before she got married — sow some oats, or sew some coats, really, because that was her job at a factory. After a few dates, and no acceptance of my dad's proposal, they amicably parted ways.

A year later, they met again. A friend of my mother's saw my handsome dad across the dance floor and declared, "If you don't want him, I do. He's nice." There is nothing like someone else's recognition of a good catch to wake you up. My mom, now another year older, realized that she missed my dad, and that she'd only sewn coats, and had sown no oats. So she pushed her friend aside like some desperate contestant on Dancing with the Stars and box-stepped the night away.

My parents didn't have a sweep-you-off-your-feet sort of romance. They were both too practical for that. But they loved each other and saw the goodness each possessed. Soon they found themselves planning their wedding, their lives, and their future. About three weeks before the wedding, my dad had some concerns. He worried he might not be able to live up to my mom's expectations. My dad and she spent a few days apart and then talked about their expectations, which weren't major. My mom asked him to be baptized Greek Orthodox. No problem. My mom knew Dad wasn't the most romantic person in the world. Fine. Once they realized that they did want the same thing, they had a double wedding with my mom's brother and his wife on June 10, 1951.

After a few years in New York City, they got a call from my mom's sister and her husband, who'd moved to Los Angeles. So they loaded up the truck and they moved to Beverly ... I mean, Hollywood. Swimming pools, movie stars, and the beginnings of a family. My mom was pregnant with my sister soon after arriving. Three and a half years after that, I was born, and then, two years later, my brother.

On the weekends, my dad would pile us all into the Batmobile, a 1950-something black Plymouth convertible with a push-button transmission, which resembled Bruce Wayne's very car, and take us to Griffith Park, in the shade of the Griffith Observatory, for his weekly volleyball game. My mom would wrangle us to fill jugs of water from a spout emerging from a stone wall that was supposedly "spring" water. Hey, in Greece water came out of a spring, why not in Hollywood? At home after the game, my dad would barbecue, Greek-style (no Southern barbecue sauce for us, only oregano, garlic, and lemon), and as the sun set, we kids would watch TV as my parents cleaned up.

I never remember my parents complaining. I never heard either of them say they were tired, or bored, or mad. I remember my dad saying, "God bless America" practically every day of my life. I remember my dad and his brother building an addition to our house one summer while we decamped to Oceanside to be near the beach and away from the dusty construction. I remember my mom sewing our bedspreads, curtains, and clothes and cooking Greek food but also making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in an attempt to assimilate. I remember my parents laughing together.

Not only did my parents laugh, they cracked us up, too. Get this: My mom would do impersonations of all the kids in the neighborhood. You haven't lived until you've heard a Greek immigrant lady say "bitchin'." My dad had his own special talents, as well. On one outing to the zoo, as we came upon the hyena cage, my dad started howling like a wolf and made the hyenas howl back at him. We could not believe that there, in the middle of Los Angeles, my dad was making hyenas talk to him. So, my mom could impersonate kids and my dad could impersonate animals. Go figure. We were like a Disney movie with an accent.

And now I'm here in the car on a Sunday, thinking, "Who knew? My mom not only impersonates teens but can also pretend she has been happy all these years. Because now she is saying maybe she made a mistake?" I remember something else she recently said about relationships. She announced, in her imitable Greek accent: "You know how they say, 'Opposites attract'? Well, later on, opposites attack!" I'm about to find out either that after 59 years of marriage my mom has been the Best Actress Ever or that the "opposition" has been attacking for some time unbeknownst to me. I tell my husband to make a left, not follow the car in front too closely (not that I'm bossy), and ask my mom what exactly she means.

She says, "Don't get me wrong. I love your dad. I always have. We created a beautiful life together and I wouldn't change a thing, but now I know that I like to talk. When I was younger, I didn't know how much I needed that. Back then, people married for life. I didn't really think about things like 'Will he watch The Ed Sullivan Show with me?' We both just wanted to have a good life and healthy kids. Do I wish we had long, soulful talks? Sure. If I had known then that I needed that, I may have chosen a different kind of person, but I also knew he was a very good man."

My parents didn't demand from each other what we seem to demand today from our relationships. My dad loved sports but didn't insist she be on the golf course handing him his driver. Instead, he taught my sister and brother to play. My mom didn't complain about his lack of conversation; she found other outlets. She had us kids, her friends, and her extended family.

My parents knew it was all right if not every single one of their needs were being met by the other, because commitment to the life they shared and created was a bigger reward than anything else. So what if my dad wasn't clued in on the latest gossip? Or that my mom was perfectly okay never learning to ride a bike or swim? (A side note: I venture to say that my mom never exercised because she had to escape from her village during the war by hiking — at night, by herself — over some seriously steep mountains. I think she just thought, "That's pretty much it for exercise for the rest of my life.")

As we pull up to church, my parents are laughing and humorously harassing each other. My dad is helping my mom out of the car. The boys are helping my dad help my mom. I let my parents walk ahead, and, as Dad guides Mom toward the church, ask myself, "Would I ever want two other people as my parents?" The answer is immediate: "Not me!"


-Culled from MSN.com

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

How to Attract Better Guys

- Culled from Cosmopolitan.com
Sometimes it's tough to spot a creep until it's too late. Here, Cosmo investigates how to suss out the losers and position yourself to meet Mr. Right instead of Mr. Right Now.


This past year, gorgeous actress Anne Hathaway's relationship with Rafaello Follieri famously crashed and burned when he was exposed as a con man.

In fairness to Anne, it's not always easy to tell whether a dude's truly charming and sweet or putting on an act. "Guys who have little integrity or may not be a good boyfriend long-term tend to be slick and evasive," says Diana Kirschner, Ph.D., author of Love in 90 Days. The following info will help you clue in better to lame guys, and lure in the good ones.

Spotting a Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
If you've ever been duped by a less-than-stellar guy (as in, a perpetual mooch, a cheater, a liar) it's not necessarily that you're naive. It's that many times, we're attracted to the traits that cover up who the guy really is, according to Jessica Cassaday, Ph.D., and Ryan Browning Cassaday, co-authors of Stop Wondering if You'll Ever Meet Him. For example, he's super romantic right away. "Yeah, it's nice for you, but it's a sign that he's over-compensating," they say. "Men who claim they fell in love with you at first sight or pour on the charm immediately are often trying too hard to win you over, hiding the fact that they have no real potential to develop a relationship naturally."

Some other red flags to look for early in the relationship: He gets very cozy on the first date, becoming inappropriately touchy-feely; he's refreshingly talkative, but you realize he actually commands most of the conversation, rarely asking you questions about yourself; or he "futures" you on date one or two, using a sweet phrase like "someday we should drive to the mountains to see the snow" (this indicates lack of authenticity or a desire to sell something).

Reeling in the Good Ones
It's important to ask yourself whether you're unconsciously sending out signals that losers are picking up on. If so, you may need to change your frequency. For instance, most jerks will go after women who they suspect have low confidence and can be easily swayed. To entice motivated, kind, and faithful men, psych yourself up with positive self-talk before going out. "Research says that if you tell yourself you look hot in a dress or are having an amazing hair night, you'll have less anxiety and better self-esteem, which will in turn attract confident men who like strong women," Kirschner says.

In terms of location, there isn't one guaranteed place to stake out a good catch. But as cliché as it sounds, philanthropic events tend to attract honest, reliable, and commitment-ready types, according to experts. Or, hang out with your network of friends, family, and coworkers (instead of hoping to meet a random stranger at a bar) because that's how you're likely to connect with good guys who you'll gel with, Kirschner says.

One sign that a guy's a good catch? If he mentions he's close with his family. That means he's more apt to be a stable, loving person who wants to make a commitment, Kirschner says. Another trick to use once you've gone out a few times: Check out his apartment. If booze figures prominently and he's all about multiple flat screens and toys like video games and a pool table, he could be a player.

Reprinted with permission of Hearst Communications, Inc.


NB: anoda excerpt for da single ladies(lol)

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Love Questions Every Guy Asks Himself

-Culled from Cosmopolitan.com

Its been AGGEESSSSS since I blogged...but I saw this really interesting article and decided to post it.....:-D....i'll be back in grand style again...SOOOONNNEEESSTTTTT!

Love Questions Every Guy Asks Himself
All men make internal queries at critical relationship moments to decide whether to stick around or stick a fork in it.
On a First Date
What's she like in bed?

If I don’t get laid tonight, will this end early enough for me to meet up with friends?

But...will I get laid tonight?

Is that a superultrawünderbra or are her breasts that incredible?

Does she think I’m funny?

Do I tell her she has a piece of lettuce stuck in her teeth or do I hope it works itself loose before she looks in a mirror and completely freaks out?

Does she always wear this much makeup?

Are lulls in the conversation first-date awkwardness or a sign that she has nothing to say?

Would doing this again be worth the time and money?



Before Getting Serious
Am I really willing to give up on other potentials for her?

Would I be proud to introduce her to my folks?

That girl I always see at the gym seems into me, so seriously, am I really willing to give up on other potentials?

Will my friends like her?

Will she let me see my friends?

Would I have fun if I took a long vacation with her?

Will I think her “charming quirks” are actually “annoying pathology” in six months?

At some point down the road, can I see myself perhaps beginning to maybe think about the chance that I wouldn’t rule out the possibility of marrying her?



Before Getting Married

I love the way things are, so will marriage change anything?

Is she gonna go bonkers while planning the wedding?

Will she eventually look as MILF-hot (or troll-like) as her mom does?

Can I handle her insane family for the rest of my life…and can she handle mine?

Will she be a good mother?

She may work now, but do I make enough money to support her and a family if I need to?

Will I ever be able to spend time by myself again?

Do I know I can count on her in a crisis?

Can I be happy never having sex with another woman for the rest of...my...life?



NB....Guys...is dis true????