Win Off-Broadway Tickets!

One of my dearest friends is my British gay hubby, J. Though he’s currently living in London, for the past three years, he’s been my partner in all sort of tantalizing crimes. From dressing up together for Halloween or theme parties to throwing our own shindigs and picking out heels together, he’s one of the funniest – and most outrageous – person I know.

He also happens to give great dating, and ahem, sex advice.

That’s why I’m so excited for my second giveaway: a pair of tickets to see the hilarious and off-broadway hit, Sex Tips for Straight Women From a Gay Man.

I’ll be announcing the winner next Friday, March 14 at noon!

Here’s how to enter:

Step 1: Follow me and the play on Twitter.

Step 2: Send a tweet to both me and the play (@loveaddictnyc @sextipsplay) and use the #sextips to tell us your burning sex tip question. The winner will not only receive a pair of tickets to see the show, but I’ll also answer the question on my blog – with maybe some sex tips from my gay hubby, J, too.

That’s it – start tweeting to win!



The Biggest Love of All

I could pretend like I don’t care. I could say that it wouldn’t bother me if I never found it. I could claim that I believe I would be fine without it. I could entertain the notion that monogamy is unrealistic.

Or I could be honest. And the truth of the matter is yes, I want to have a big love.

You know – the one where the sparks just fly. Where inhibitions, caution, fears, and apprehensions are dispersed into the wind of yesteryear – and I just go full force ahead into the tomorrow that now seems so clear. Where each bone and every sensation gives the indication that this person, this man, could be that someone I’ve been dreaming of. Where when he looks my way, when his eyes peer into mine, instead of just seeing facial expressions – I see something that even I couldn’t put into words. Where things, for whatever reason and measured in whatever way we both see fit – just work. Intensely, magically, profoundly, and naturally. Where passion and intrigue are magnified, but when I spent endless time with this person, I find myself shocked thinking, “Wow, this just feels right. It’s so easy.”

Lately, I’ve been thinking about this big love and deciding if getting over the idea of having a beautiful story with a dramatic plot line and incredible ending, is a huge part of this journey. We all know the love people produce movies, write novels, and compose music about are unrealistic. And if we admit to desiring such things, our independence, our intelligence, our interest in academia and the world is questioned. I mean, why should we waste brain cells or thoughts or hours of our life, thinking about the big love? When that love – where it be full of ups and downs or smooth sailing – is maybe, just an illusion? One that’s created by Hollywood and Harper Collins.

But the fiction that’s portrayed on silver screens and between pages – it’s inspired by facts. By people with real experiences. By men and women who have felt that thing, whatever it is. Maybe those who have seen it come and go, watched it while it stayed and then as it left. By those who were critics before they were stung by a buzzing person they couldn’t shoo away – regardless of how hard they tried.

I’ve yet to decide if The Love – as we all indicate worthy of capital letters – is the relationship that’s simple and easy-going, without drama and messiness, or if it’s the one that amidst all of the problems, at the end of the day, or in the final act, you’d still chose this person over any other eligibility. Maybe I’m conflicted because the strongest and most withstanding pairs I know all have varying histories. My dad had to pursue my mother for eight months before she finally agreed to go on a date with him (they were married four months later, mind you). A reader once told me she and her husband, knew in a single instance, with one silly glance, that they had just met their match. One of my closest friends, A, met her now-boyfriend in the states, but it took until they were in China at the same time, for them to come together. Other couples I know had to break up a few times, get over one another’s past, and let go of their own baggage to move forward. But when they did, it went full-force ahead into the land of happily ever-together. The stories are all different, the levels of intertwining roads and the bumps that break up the pavement vary, but the love is the same. It is intense. It is powerful. It is based on a mutual understanding of mutuality. It’s that love – the big one. The doozy.

For the majority of my life, I’ve feared not finding this relationship. Not having a man who flat-out, no questions asked, adored me. Not experiencing that impossible connection that’s uninterrupted because it’s that incredibly strong. Not having that feeling that I could, in fact, spend the rest of my life with someone and it not seem terrifying.

But if I’m honest – each relationship has increasingly been better. I’ve learned more with every choice, each mistake, and all of the romantic exchanges. I’ve mastered the difficult task of trying to make good out of bad and believe heartbreaks are more about growth than about pain. And while I haven’t had a life-altering, ground-breaking, knock me off my feet love – I’ve experienced love that’s worthy of words. Worthy of the time, spirit, and heart invested, even if the return was sometimes small.

All of these little loves may eventually add up to one big love – but what I’ve always had and always will have is something more. And that’s the relationship I have with myself. It’s always remarkably more trying and yet more sincere than any romance I’ve curated with a man. It has its ups and its downs. It’s full of trials and yet, worth each and every single off-day, for even an hour of feeling my very best. It takes me every place I need to go and when no one else can say the right words, I can find them if I look hard enough. It allows other people into the picture, just to show me how powerful the union really is and test how loyal I am to myself. It’s taken decades of pursuing and wooing, wining and dining, to get to where I am now. It’s a daily struggle with a daily reward. It’s the single most important, most intriguing, most difficult – and yet, the easiest, relationship I’ve ever been in or will ever experience.

There may be The One and I may want to find a big love to love, and I may never let go of the desire for that partnership. But at least I can be reassured that I’ve already found The Love. And no matter how much drama I encounter or admiration I give and receive, at least I know love is possible. And it is worth each and every downfall, if at the end of my story – the love I’ve found in myself remains the biggest love of all.

Just Because You’re a Bird, Doesn’t Mean I Am

As the taxi pulls around at Columbus Circle, the young woman with long brown hair and piercing blue eyes, looks out the window. When the car comes to a stop, she steps out, her Louboutins leading her way, tosses her hair around and a panoramic view of Manhattan flashes in her stare.

She struts to her high-profile, wildly successful job where she has the corner office, and men answering her calls for her. Her day is filled with important meetings, entertaining lunches, and calls from best friends who are slightly more neurotic and ridiculous then she is. Although, she has her little quirks, has a hard time letting go, and organizes her life to the ultimate degree. Though she may not realize it (or she actually might), her life lacks meaning and she often spends nights tucked away in her fancy apartment in a doorman building…wondering what piece of her existence is missing.  Those who know her best would call her high strung, and someone in her family, a mother, a grandmother, or an aunt twice-removed tell her she needs to just relax.

But of course, she can’t. That is – until she meets him.

This is a guy who she doesn’t like. A man who doesn’t fit into her checklist of required qualities to be dating material. He doesn’t work in her five-year plan or into the space of her heart she’s reserved for love. In fact, he is everything opposite of what she ever wanted. But of course, he’s smitten. He sees her and instantly falls in love with all of beauty and all of the flaws that define her. And even though he as some shady past or a past love who stole away his heart (making him a player of course) – he knows he will overcome it to win this gal’s admiration. This is his woman, after all.

But before he can claim her, something happens.

She is transfered somewhere else. She’s forced to pick her career. He completely screws up. She finds out a secret that makes her question everything. He won’t commit. She can’t believe he is actually different from every other guy. He can’t man up. The love that changed both of them, just isn’t designed by the fates…

…until it is.

He makes a grand gesture or she flies half-way across the world to be with him. She gives up her career for the Harry Winston or he goes back to school to make her satisfied. They both pack up everything they own and move to Africa. Nothing else matters, all other situations and issues are solved, because even if it’s hard, it is all worth it as long as they have the love they share. Of course, they live happily ever after, until death do they part, in perfect bliss and matrimony.

Why, oh why, are all romantic comedies the same?

My friend, S, and I spent an evening in with greasy street meat (but so good!) and two girly chick flicks. Now sometimes, there are no better nights then the ones you spend with a friend you can talk to and not feel guilty about eating food that you know is going straight to your hips. Somehow, if you eat it with someone else, it doesn’t seem to count. Right?

The movies had different leading stars and were set in opposite ends of the world – but the message was exactly the same. And really, the path it took to get from hating-the-dude to loving-the-dude was identical. The women were both highly organized and particular and the dudes, laid back and chummy. But yet, the girl broke up with the seemingly ideal man who she was dating to be with the guy who was from a completely different league then her. That is, once she whipped him into shape and forced him into a grand gesture.

I can’t say a man has ever performed or thought up a big hoopla to win me back, but I have to wonder: why do movies make the public display of affection and admiration, so alluring? Does a relationship have to have struggle and conflict and fights to make it work? Does a woman have to leave to make a man realize he absolutely needs to have her in his life? And, if we do happen to want to give a dude a second go-around – does he really have to do a grand gesture to get our heart strings back in tune?

Is it really about the love letters and the flowers and the chocolates or remembering initimate details that makes us swoon for a man? Do we need to have that drama and that dazzle to leave us dazed and confused, but ultimately – madly in love?

Maybe I’m coming from a place of inexperience or I haven’t read enough romantic novels or watched enough boy-wins-the-girl comedies, but I don’t believe true love should be that complicated. Sure, I know relationships take work and they don’t magically morph into something perfect when situations require compromise and change. However, I’m under the belief, that if after months of trying or weeks of crying and questioning – sometimes a relationship is more work than it’s worth. When it stops being supportive and progressive, loving, and passionate – and starts becoming nothing but a hassle, a harm, and full of  arguments that go on for six-week periods, what’s the point?

I don’t want to be with a man that I have to push to the limits to make him realize he has something good when he has me. I don’t want to have to leave to make him want to stay. I don’t want him to have to think of some beautiful, romantic, gesture that makes me weak in my knees and forget any hostility I ever had towards him or the relationship. I don’t want to be won back, I just want to be The One for him. It isn’t about being completed or about a dozen tulips and a marching band playing “I Want You Baby” as a man cascades up stadium stairs. There isn’t always a boombox outside the window or a single glove on Wollman rink, 10 years after we first met.

I don’t believe that life is like a romantic comedy and I certainly don’t think we should ever measure up men to the characters we see flirting with their leading ladies on the silver screen. Because real relationships may be messy and dramatic, but they are not prescribed by the directors and producers who play on our desire for true love to make millions. Because, as love addicts, or what I’d like to call, hopeful romantics – we will always stick around to the end so we can get a glimpse at a happy ending.

But in reality, that happy ending doesn’t always involve breaking up and getting back together, fighting and making wild monkey sex afterwards – sometimes, it is just about the simplicity of being together. About two people who share the same affinity for events, culture, travel, morals, and values.

So maybe I’ll stop living vicariously through the love stories I grew up watching and continue to rent and go see in the theaters. While I do love seeing the good rejoice over the bad and the guy and the girl finally finding each other – what I love more is thinking of the reality of a real relationship.

One that is about two people who want the same things, and while they may disagree – they never have to declare they are a bird because there partner is a bird. I mean, really?