Tuesday, March 31, 2009
They met on "Family Ties" and have been married for more than 20 years. She's a little taller, but he ice skates faster. Michael J. Fox's latest book, Always Looking Up, reveals candid details of his Hollywood love story with Tracy Pollan, which has survived and thrived since his Parkinson's diagnosis. He describes Tracy as his rock, but then says: "I think what she is is much more special than being a rock. Rocks are rigid and nonyielding and she's very fluid." Tracy says the diagnosis has helped their marriage. "When we were first married, he was so busy working all the time," she explains. "So, in some ways, it's made him a lot more available."
Monday, March 30, 2009
When I was a freshman at college, I went on a date with a lovely guy, who happened to be a senior, which was a huge deal to me then. After dinner at the local pizza joint, we stopped at his place to pick up something he'd forgotten before heading to his fraternity party. Somewhere on the way down the three flights of stairs that lead to his apartment, I slipped. It was March in Colorado so there was black ice everywhere but of course I didn't see any on the step.
Now when I say I fell down the stairs, I didn't just trip. I full on tumbled. It was like a scene out of an action movie, but to me it felt like everything was happening in slow motion. I could see him (ahead of me) trying to catch me but it was too late. Before I knew it, I was lying in a clump at the bottom of the stairs. I'm not sure what hurt more, my hip or my pride. I can't really explain the pain because I was numb with embarrassment. I immediately popped up and laughed it off while desperately holding back the tears.
He asked if I wanted to go to the ER but I brushed it off, saying I was O.K. As we walked to the party, which seemed like 100 miles away but was only a three-block distance, I felt my right hip throbbing with pain. By the time we got there, I was in so much pain that I could hardly walk. I excused myself and had a friend walk me home. When I got to my dorm room and peeled off my pants, I found a bump the size of a grapefruit on my hip! My friend took me to the ER, where I found that I did not break anything but would need physical therapy for a month.
I nursed a huge bruise on my leg and couldn't sleep on my right side for months. I don't know what happened to my date since I never saw him again. I am sure he's told the story of the poor girl who fell down the stairs on the first date many times. It still hurts a little bit just thinking about it.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
After several successful dates, I offered to cook dinner for a lawyer I was seeing. As I thought he was quite a catch, I desperately wanted to impress him, so I researched recipes and decided on a salmon dish. On the day of the date, I lovingly seasoned and prepared the salmon for roasting at his apartment. I felt quite confident that my cooking skills would seal the deal as far as our budding relationship was concerned. I arrived to find his kitchen in a bit a mess. I cleaned up a little, popped the fish in the oven and proceeded to join him in the living room for a glass of wine.
We were in deep conversation when we noted a funny smell filtering into the room. It was coming from the kitchen. When we entered it, it was full of smoke. Not just wisps escaping from the burnt salmon, but actual plumes of smoke, which had us gasping for breath. The oven was on fire! The fire extinguisher was not going to cut it so he called the fire department. As he did so, I anxiously envisioned the entire structure - it was one of those tightly packed New York apartment buildings - burning to the ground, thanks to my culinary efforts. They arrived in minutes, providing me with a small degree of relief.
However, after they put the flames out, they proceeded had to tear down the walls of his kitchen to make sure there was no unseen electrical fire. Being the lawyer that he was, my date began snapping pictures of the damage to document it for his landlord. It turned out there had been some oil left in the oven, which was what likely caused the fire. It was totally my fault, but the firemen looked at my date with an expression that said: get rid of this girl!
My date was quite the gentlemen about the whole fiasco. After the firemen left, he even asked what we should do with the rest of the evening. Utterly mortified that I'd just burnt his kitchen to the ground, I said it was probably time for me to call it a night. Neither of us called each other again.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
I had fancied this really hot, hipster DJ who played at a bar in downtown New York for ages. We were friends of friends and had spent months outrageously flirting with each other. Finally, one night at the said bar, he grabbed me and asked me to come home with him.
Since he lived in deepest Brooklyn, I invited him to my place instead as I lived just over the bridge in Williamsburg. I suggested we get a cab back there but his option was the train. I offered to pay the fare (about $15) but he countered by saying that the subway would be "more fun."
Unfortunately for our night of passion, the L train was running on a shorter route so we had to get off and take a shuttle bus to my usual stop. A journey that should have taken 20 minutes max prolonged into a one and a half hour voyage during which he yapped incessantly and revealed that his intellect did not quite match up to his looks.
We got home well after 3 a.m. and I immediately put my pajamas on, yawned and said I was going to sleep. In the morning, I woke up at 6 a.m., mostly due to my discomfort at having him in my bed. When he got up and tried to be seductive and charming, I told him I had to work. After all, I have pay for those late-night cab rides somehow! I didn't say that of course though I wish I did. He left soon after.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Like everyone, we at MVWD have been shocked at how Natasha Richardson died suddenly after a ski accident this week. The reports that her mother and legendary actor, Vanessa Redgrave sang her The Sound of Music tune, Edelweiss, before the life support machine was turned off, was especially touching.
It was the song that Redgrave performed at her daughter's first wedding to producer, Robert Fox. The bride wore a pantsuit with a down-to-navel cleavage (according to Ted Casablanca at E!) to that wedding but the alliance fell apart when she met the strapping Liam Neeson on Broadway in the early 1990s.
The two got together and Richardson apparently tamed the player in Neeson. "I am pleased that women fall in love with him," she said, according to the NY Daily News, "because I know why." We can't help but love that cool observation. The two married in upstate New York and went on to have two kids. It is devastatingly sad that Neeson now has to reprise the widower role he played in the 2003 Richard Curtis romantic comedy, Love Actually in real life.
You don't need to be reminded that we live in tough, tough economic times. And you probably don't want to recall that ex-boyfriend of yours. But reconsider, especially if he left a trail of gifts behind.
You no longer wear or want that wedding ring/iPod/Coach bag in the back of your closet but you've yet to cast it away for good. Enter the eBay for break-up purging: Ex-Boyfriend Jewelry, the site that allows you to flog now-unwanted tokens of love for comforting, cold hard cash. All you have to do is post an image of the item (which can include 'Gifts that should have been jewelry'), provide the back story (we like the one from the girl who's selling a dress for a date that never happened with a former beau who used her money to buy weed) and a short description of the item.
Ex-Boyfriend Jewelry is useful for profitably getting rid of old baggage but it's also handy for picking up some bargains. Perhaps the Tiffany's sterling silver money clip ($50) to stash all dollars you've made from your heartbreak?
Thursday, March 19, 2009
I met this cute guy at a bar and he hung out with my friends and I for the rest of the night. I ended up drunk and back at his one-bedroom bachelor pad where we did some high school-style making out. The decor at his apartment consisted of t-shirts with silly sayings that were pinned to the walls. After a few more kisses we ended up just falling asleep. When I woke up I called my friend. I was concerned because my friend had a fight with her girlfriend the night before and I spent a few minutes consoling her before asking her to pick me up.
"You're leaving?" he asked.
"Yeah. You know I'm the love 'em and leave 'em type," I joked.
That set him off. He proceeded to start yelling at me, saying that I put my friends first and didn't have a backbone of my own.
"I thought we were getting along great and really have something here," he pleaded. "You really are just the love 'em and leave 'em type!"
As I was gathering my belongings he stormed into his bathroom, slammed the door and told me I could wait on the curb. I happily obliged and waited for my ride outside.
He then tracked me down through MySpace and sent me a note recapping the entire evening and morning, again referring to me as the "love 'em and leave 'em" type.
Remember Kenley from last season's "Project Runway?" She seemed a little crazy on the show, but we never expected this! Turns out that the designer we all loved to hate was arrested in her Brooklyn home on Tuesday morning after assaulting her sleeping ex-fiance with everything from a laptop and apples to water and -- wait for it -- her cat!
According to court documents Collins told her ex-fiance, Zac Penley, "You're lucky … it could've been a lot worse." Kenley was promptly arrested and charged with 2nd degree assault, 3rd degree assault and criminal possession of a weapon in the 4th degree.
The "Runway" finalist's comment upon being released from jail on Tuesday morning?
"It was a miscommunication."
We're pretty sure Mr. Penley would call it something else. Ladies, violence is never the answer.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
I met a nice and attractive girl at a bar so I asked her out. She told me there was this restaurant she was dying to try so I made reservations for Friday night. The dinner was good, but very expensive. I figured that on the second date we would go somewhere more casual. But she suggested another fancy place. I obliged, but I was determined to go somewhere cheap if it continued beyond the second date. We had great conversation and I was definitely interested in dating her because she was smart, beautiful and well traveled. When I asked her out for date number three I suggested we go bowling. She sighed and said she really wanted to try this new hot spot she read about. She agreed to bowling, but proceeded to pout throughout the date. I asked her what was wrong and she explained that dating was the only way she ever got to try these upscale restaurants since she was fired from her job six months prior. She said she really missed her old lifestyle. I flat out asked her if she had any interest in me beyond my ability to take her to dinner and she shrugged her shoulders. I gave her ten bucks for a taxi and walked out.
I hit it off with a great guy who I met at a bar when I was cocktail waitressing. He took me to a local sushi joint and I guess I became quiet because of nerves or something. Frustrated, he picked up a conversation with the two women on my other side. I thought, 'I have got to loosen up here,' but instead proceeded to get drunk on sake. After dinner we went to his house and he asked me if I would like some Champagne and next thing I know I wake up on his couch around 4:00 am. "Hello?" I asked. He comes out of his room and tells me that I passed out so he left me on the couch. Embarrassed, I decide to make it up to him and bring him a bouquet of balloons later that day. I made it to his place, but heard about three or four of the balloons pop thanks to the cottage cheese ceiling in the hallway. He was not home so I wrapped the attached ribbons to the door handle with the card. Before I could tie them in a knot, I lost a few more. We never recaptured the magic of the first night we met. Of course, I kept running into him after that, which is almost unheard of in Los Angeles.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Honeymoon With My Brother author and friend of MVWD Franz Wisner is at it again with his new book How The World Makes Love (St. Martin's Press), out today. Here's a short list excerpt from the book:
The World's Worst Pick-Up Lines
1. Don't I know you from a past life? INDIA
2. What's a nice place like this doing around a woman like you? CZECH REPUBLIC
3. I would love to be a farmer and you to be my soil. Our crop would be bananas. NICARAGUA
4. At what time does a hurain like you need to be back in heaven? EGYPT
5. You are smelling very nice to me. BOTSWANA
6. Let's have cafezinho. I can call you or nudge you. BRAZIL
7. My parents already have engaged us to be married. They just forgot to tell you. INDIA
8. How would you like your breakfast eggs, scrambled or fertilized? NEW ZEALAND
9. So, you like music? LOS ANGELES
10. Does your backside want my phone number? BRAZIL
What are your worst pickup lines, abroad or local?
Monday, March 16, 2009
I once went on a date with a woman I met online. Her profile on the dating site said she was 'petite.' Her headshot photo looked great so I was excited to finally connect in person. When I arrived at the assigned bar to meet her, she turned out to be a 'little person' (or a midget in more commonly-used parlance). The misrepresentation was a shock, which made it my very worst date. I have nothing against people of small stature but I do have a problem with people pretending to be five feet tall when they are less than four feet high. Talk about stretching the truth!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I was 15 and had spent the second half the night making out with my first bona fide boyfriend on his basement couch (the first half being spent at dinner and a movie). In between swapping spit, we were swigging shots of Jose Cuervo. I was obliterated. I stumbled into the bathroom at one point and tripped over an area rug. As my entire body pitched forward toward the sink, I caught a glimpse of my long hair suspended straight up in the air. My mouth, which was about to be a canal for projectile vomit, connected with the rim of the sink. Gonk. When I stood up, bleary-eyed, my two front teeth were broken in half. Like a West Virginia meth addict's. I panicked--but only slightly. Then I puked. I walked out and showed my boyfriend my jagged smile ("loooooook!"), already crying. He had been fixing something on his drum set. He started crying immediately, saying, "You're gonna hate me!" Then he bent over the skeleton of his drum set, bared his front teeth, and smashed his face into the metal. Gonk. Half his two front teeth were gone. Now that's love.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Married for nearly two decades, Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson are one of those Hollywood power couples who don't show up on TMZ, fighting in parking lots or having indiscretions at nightclubs. Hanks is busy acting, directing, collecting $20 million-plus paychecks and being an all-around nice guy, while Wilson has been producing hits like "Mamma Mia!" and "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" and raising needed funds for EIF's Women's Cancer Research Fund. They just seem damn happy to be around each other and we like that. Perhaps it's the advice Wilson was given by her real-life Greek mother that has kept this bond going strong.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Dr. Alex Benzer, author of Tao of Dating, has a op-ed piece on The Huffington Post that claims dating is harder for smart people. He makes an intereresting case (smart people spend more time on achievements than relationships for example), but can't you be smart, attractive, interesting, and very dateable? And if so please head this way.
He goes on to give some good tips on opening up to the world, whether you're in the top 5% of intelligence or not:
He goes on to give some good tips on opening up to the world, whether you're in the top 5% of intelligence or not:
"The purpose of relationship (and perhaps all of life) is to practice the loving. No partner is going to be 100% perfect anyway, so learn to appreciate people for what they have to offer, not what they don't. And love them for that. That's what real loving is."
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
I took about a week off work to recover from my wisdom tooth operation but found that I was chipper enough to go out that same evening and decided to head out to the local gay club with my friends. Armed with a few shots of Jager and the not-so-necessary pain medication, I was unstoppable and looking mighty fine.
My roommate, who's quite the wing man, spotted a cute and very drunk guy at the bar and proceed to grab his ass and point at me when the looked for the culprit. I took over and began to chat to the young man, who was visiting from Texas. We then hit the dance floor and started to make out. And by make out, I mean he tried to head butt me with his teeth. I thought it was a drunk party foul and tried again to no avail. The guy enjoyed the teeth bashing! I tried to get away but my friends pushed me back, scolding me for never giving guys a chance. Finally, because I was high as a kite, I decided to take him home with me. When we got home, he proceeded to strip completely in front of my roommate and pass out. I was ready to call it a night anyway since my face hurt so much.
When we woke up in the morning, we started making out. This time, it was less violent because he was laying down and had less momentum to head butt. But then he started to substitute the foreplay with punching. Now I am a non-violent individual but a boy's gotta to defend himself so I played along with what he considered "hot" until he got this look in his eyes. He then proceeded to jump up and stumble into the bathroom where he burst into projectile vomiting. That was the end of that.
Here's an antidote for those who hate the dating dance: speeding hating. On the other side of the pond, Brits, who've never really cottoned on to the dating idea (preferring instead to get slaughtered on Stella and pull whomever they fancy and close the deal by taking them home), are enjoying this new trend, which the The Mirror bills as:
"... the second-cousing-twice-removed of the more conventional speed dating.But instead of having three minutes to impress the opposite sex with your painted-on smiles and zest for life this is a night dedicated to grumbling, misery and despair."
We think this fits with the whole Brit self-deprecating persona. And there is a lot to bitch about in these economic times so why not just get it out there on the first encounter?
Monday, March 2, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
This doesn't come as a complete shock to us here at My Very Worst Date, but People is reporting that Rihanna and Chris Brown are "definitely together." The reconciliation is in effect at Sean "Diddy" Combs' house on Miami Beach's Star Island. How apropos.
"They are definitely together and care a great deal about each other," says a Miami source. "They feel like staying in and working through their issues. So far they have not wanted to go out." Brown, however, did venture out earlier on his own. On Thursday he hit the water to Jet Ski with pals. Rihanna and Brown's reconciliation comes nearly three weeks after Brown, 19, the alleged battered the "Umbrella" singer on Feb. 8.
What does this mean for Rihanna's career? Will people still embrace the singer if she takes back the guy who beat her in the face? What does it mean for her millions of fans who are impressionable young girls?