jealous and flew out a few times to see me until I said yes to getting back together. We’ve had a phone relationship since January, with visits whenever possible. Well, I’m starting grad school on the East Coast, and won’t be mobile for three years. But, as for moving to be with me, he’s now saying he doesn’t know if he can leave San Francisco.

of his clinginess until we moved in together. If I want some “me time,” he gets offended. If I don’t stand or sit next to him or cuddle with him, he claims I don’t like him. If I eat lunch with a friend instead of him (as I do daily), he’s upset. Even when we spend time with my family, there are repercussions (moping and drama when we get home).

Many people think the fact that their pants are vibrating gives them a pass to put the person they’re with on face-to-face “ignore.” People with manners consider how their companion might feel sitting before a full restaurant audience pretending to examine a napkin for hidden messages.

Marriage used to play out on the Wal-Mart model: the idea that one person would meet your every need from altar to gravestone. Couples these days seem to understand that this is ridiculous, and have friendships outside the relationship.

had drinks in my neighborhood. He drank too much, and asked to hang at my house so he wouldn’t drive under the influence. I didn’t like this because I’m used to guys using this ploy for sex, but he said if I didn’t let him in, I was making him drive drunk.

found “the one.” She’s gone from being ultrapicky to swearing she’ll just marry the next guy who doesn’t pick his nose at the dinner table. Wow. Is that what it comes down to for women ' eventually having to give up and settle for a guy you’re less than on fire for? It horrifies me to think of being her at some point.

Of course, it’s always been out for some (picture Meryl Streep and Judi Dench sitting around pondering, “To DDD or not to DDD'”) While this reported trend in looking natural seems part of the trend toward grass-fed beef, hemp lingerie, and “Hey, you...

It’s terrible, what happened to his roommate, but moving into somebody’s place and then announcing, “Oh, by the way, I’m traumatized by people having sex'” is like saying, “Did I mention that I’m deathly allergic to cats? Not to worry, I hear they don’t feel a thing when they get put down.

You might be as “liberated” as all get out, but your genes are ready to party like it’s 1.8 million years ago, when women evolved to be the harder-to-get sex and men co-evolved to expect to smooth-talk a woman into the bushes.

This guy takes the “Dear Occupant” approach to love: Instead of “It had to be you,” it had to be somebody, and you’re standing right there and have yet to call the cops on him. He claims to love you, but you really have to know somebody to love them.