Amy vs. John

Hands Off Honey!

2009-07-13T18:56:04Z

I don't want him "helping" an ex

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

Q: DEAR AMY S. JOHN: I just went with my husband (of six years) to his twentieth high school reunion in New Jersey. During the event, a woman named "Tracy" ran up to my husband, squealing, and kissed him--on the mouth. (It only lasted a second or so, but I couldn't believe my eyes!) Then she grabbed his arm, and pulled him into a corner saying, "I can't believe how awesome you look; Oh my God!--you haven't changed one bit--you're still so hot." I just stood there, shocked, watching from a few feet away, until my husband finally glanced over and said, "Tracy--oh, ah, here's my wife." She shook my hand, then went right back to flirting with my husband. It lasted a full twenty minutes! She kept grabbing his arm, laughing hysterically at everything he said. Then she even ran her hands through his hair, saying, "You're the only guy here, not going bald." On the way home, I grilled my husband about "Tracy." He said, "C'mon, she's just really, really friendly; you're reading way too much into it." He also confessed that they "dated briefly" when they were only seventeen, but never had sex. Now she's recently divorced, and is moving back to our hometown with her two kids. And she's searching for a job, so she exchanged contact info with my husband who runs a mid-sized catering company. In the past week, she's already called twice and e-mailed him asking to "meet and talk about a job." I'm so FURIOUS! But my husband keeps saying, "Why not help an old friend?"

(submitted by TrishaP summarized above)

]]> A: AMY: There's a "Tracy" at every high school reunion. You know, a desperate, drunken divorcee looking to cause trouble in other people's marriages. It's pathetic. But even worse, is your idiot husband who's playing dumb about the situation. After all, what kind of dirt bag husband allows another woman to kiss him on the mouth...ever? When that happened, he should've violently pushed her away, saying, "How dare you!...I'm a married man." And don't be fooled by his lame explanation. Obviously, if they "dated briefly" in high school, there's a history there. I don't care if they were only seventeen and "never had sex." Maybe now that she's free, she'd like to discover what she was missing in high school. And the job angle is highly suspicious. Is your husband's catering company the only place where she could apply? Isn't there a massage parlor or a Wendy's in town? Wake up--she's not an "old friend." She's a snake looking to find a new husband to take care of her and her two kids. Protect your six-year marriage and put your foot down right now. Just tell your husband, "If you have any further contact with Tracy, I'm filing for divorce." That should end this nonsense.

JOHN: (Needless to say, I DID NOT take Amy to my high school reunion.)

First of all, just because this supposed temptress "Tracy" gave your innocent, unsuspecting husband a peck hello that happened to land on his lips, we do not need to demote him to "dirt bag" status. He didn't do anything wrong except walk into the place! "Violently" pushing a woman and shouting "HOW DARE YOU! I'M A MARRIED MAN!" would not have been gallant; it would have made him seem insane! And once again, my loving wife is assuming the absolute worst from all people she's never met. While your husband is certainly under no obligation whatsoever to offer this woman a job, if he needs to fill a position and "Tracy" is qualified, then why shouldn't he? How is "Tracy" any more of a threat than any other attractive woman whom he might hire? (I only say "attractive" because--let's face it--you wouldn't feel so threatened if you didn't think "Tracy" was somewhat attractive.)

Whatever you do, don't listen to my crazy wife! You don't need to threaten divorce. If you feel jealous or uneasy about "Tracy," just tell your husband, calmly and quietly that she makes you uncomfortable. If you know and trust your husband, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about.

Just relax--and enjoy his full head of hair!

Sex During Pregnancy

2009-07-10T18:19:55Z

Will things ever be hot again?

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

JOHN: As the man and husband responsible for this pregnancy (I don't know why I take such pride in writing that, but I do), my job is to be extra nice and attentive to my wife. I'm to keep the house stocked with good healthy food, prepare most of the meals, do most of the cleaning, and generally provide a care-free, peaceful environment in which she can comfortably grow a human being. I also lend a supportive ear when she needs to complain about her crippling fatigue, back pain, stomach pain, nose bleeds, swollen gums, cracked lips, leg cramps, and--she's going to kill me--constipation. She's doing great though, so far, so good.

]]> The silver lining to all this (I was told by more than one friend and several pregnancy books) would be that suddenly my sweet wife would have huge boobs and an insatiable sexual appetite.

Well the big boobs are there, but this wild sex I was promised just isn't happening. Sure, maybe in the beginning, she'd have the occasional "hormonal surge," but now that she's past six months, with all of the fatigue, back pain, stomach pain, leg cramps, etc., even the most powerful hormonal surges get deflated.

And what the pregnancy books don't seem to mention is that sex when a woman's seven months pregnant is just plain weird! There's another person there! I can see him moving! And it's not just any person; it's our tiny innocent baby! How's a couple supposed to feel amorous with their precious, fragile baby hanging in between them? Once it's born, we wouldn't have sex with him strapped to Amy in a cute little Baby Bjorn front pouch--how is this any different? It's just plain creepy.

Furthermore, once the baby does finally come out, we still won't be able to have sex. He's got to be near us at all times, doesn't he? He's a baby! So what if the baby hears us, or worse, sees us? He'll think we're hippies!

So my questions are: Who are these people who feel perfectly comfortable having sex during the third trimester of pregnancy? Who the hell wrote these pregnancy books? And will things ever get "back to normal" in our marriage?

AMY: So you're complaining because I'm not strutting around for you in a see-through negligee...at seven months pregnant?! SORRY! What a terrible wife I am.

The truth is, sure, it's "amazing and beautiful" to be growing a new life...blah, blah, blah. But during this bizarre process, my body just doesn't feel like my body anymore. In fact, I feel disconnected. And every time I look down at my stomach and watch his quick, little elbow, fist or foot punch me in the stomach, I'm reminded that I'm no longer alone. (I'll never be alone again!) My body is just a vessel for him, plain and simple. Unfortunately, none of these unexpected emotions or thoughts are exactly aphrodisiacs for me.

And the fact that I'm almost twenty pounds fatter than I've ever been in my life doesn't help me feel like my old sexy self either. I know, I know--I'm creating a life and it's (hopefully) temporary. But the only thing that'll really turn me on these days is the thought of squeezing back into my size 4 jeans from college.

And those great "big boobs" I've developed over the last few months? Guess what? I don't even want them! I was perfectly happy with my petite 34B's--thank you very much! I'd say I'm probably one of the only women on earth who's never, ever, fantasized about having bigger breasts. So if you thought I'd be showing them off in tube tops for the rest of the summer; think again.

Look, I read those racy "lovemaking during pregnancy" chapters too. And yes, I expected to feel sexier and wilder than ever. But my mind is so damn distracted these days with so many scary questions: Am I eating the right foods?; Where should we move?; Shouldn't we be taking those annoying parenting classes?; Should we be ordering pre-school brochures?; What 's a "birth plan" and why don't I have one?; What if I go into premature labor?; Shouldn't we have more money in the bank?; Who the hell's going to babysit?; Did I forget to take my iron pill and prenatal vitamin today?; Do either of us know baby CPR? Etc., etc...

My mind is always elsewhere, so to speak. But I'm really glad you spoke up because the last thing I want is for us to become platonic "parenting partners," covered in spit-up, bickering about how to burp the baby. Uggghhhh!

To be happy, loving parents, we must always remember to be selfish when it comes to romance. We need to always keep things hot between us, whether the baby's napping or not.

I know, and I won't forget it--promise! There Honey, you have it in writing.

Summer Rental Sex

2009-07-06T17:45:06Z

Can I keep my boyfriend faithful this August?

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

Q: DEAR AMY VS. JOHN: My new boyfriend, 24, and five of his buddies from high school always rent a beach house on the Jersey Shore in August. He's always bragging about how much fun they have--hanging out at the beach, dancing, having barbecues, hooking up and partying hard. My boyfriend's unemployed so he's going to stay at the rental place for the whole month of August. He invited me to stay there with him, but I work full-time, so I can only meet him there on the weekends. My problem is that one of these buddies who's renting the house with him is the older brother of a girl who slept with my boyfriend at this same beach house last summer before we met. He admitted that it happened "about six times" but only when he was really drunk. He never dated her and insists he had "no interest in her whatsoever." But I've always heard, through his friends, that this girl is a total slut. So I asked my BF: "Is your friend going to invite his little sister to the beach house again?" Then, he started yelling at me, "You know I can't control who other people invite, especially when they're paying their fair share...so just shut up about it." We had a HUGE fight because I told him he can't go if that girl's gonna be there again. He complained that he's already paid, and he'll lose the $650 if he bails. What should I do?

(submitted by TJlove summarized above)

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A: JOHN: Sounds like it's time to call MTV! (Have they done "The Real World: Jersey Shore" yet?)

Look, is this unemployed 24-year-old, who loves "hooking up and partying hard," and who says things like "just shut up about it," really worth the trouble? Guys like this jerk can't even imagine going against their group of guy friends. And they're convinced that any woman who would ask them to is not worth their time. My advice: Go find a guy with a job and stop wasting your time.

That being said, if you still feel compelled to pursue this relationship, your best tactic is to stop focusing on his buddy's slutty little sister. Because right now, you're just coming off as a jealous, controlling nag.

Over the next couple of weeks, you have to completely change his perception of you and your relationship. Believe it or not, for "the right girl," even a blockhead like this guy, will get off his ass and work hard. You just have to make yourself so attractive (sexy, fun, exciting, etc.) that the idea of wasting another summer with his drinking buddies and mindless hook-ups sounds totally lame. You have to become so seductive, so entrancing, that he feels he has no choice but to find someone else to take his spot at that house.

In short, you have to become Olivia Newton-John at the end of the movie "Grease."

AMY: Huh? That's your "advice": telling this confused woman that the solution to her dilemma is to "become Olivia Newton-John" at the end of "Grease"? What the hell are you talking about? You're such an idiot; you don't even understand "Grease"-- which, by the way, sends a terrible message. Basically, the film says that "Sandy" (the good girl virgin) must abandon her virtues and identity, and become a smoking, spandexed tramp--at an amusement park, no less--just to snag "Danny."

It's so typical that you think the woman should have to jump through hoops to "trick" a guy into wanting to be with her.

Although I find it hard to believe that any woman would want to date a low-class loser who gets really drunk and has sex with girls he doesn't care about, I'm going to try to keep my judgment to myself. It is your life.

But you're ABSOLUTELY RIGHT: it's completely inappropriate for him to return to that sleazy summer rental, where that slutty girl will likely be again. After all, if his excuse for his promiscuous behavior is simply that he was "really drunk," then who says he won't do it again?

And you shouldn't feel the need to "babysit" your boyfriend. He's old enough to make a mature choice. So just tell him: "Because of your past behavior, I'm not comfortable with you staying at that summer rental at all; so either lose the $650 or lose me."

Let the chips fall where they may...

Last "Independence" Day!

2009-07-03T19:38:31Z

Do kids ruin every vacation?

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

AMY: This Fourth of July has very special significance for me. Since we're having our first baby in September, this is our final INDEPENDENCE Day, so to speak.

And since we're on Cape Cod--home of the old-fashioned family vacation--I'm getting a peek into our not-so-relaxing future. All of a sudden, I'm noticing that there are unruly, noisy brats everywhere: in the restaurants, on the beaches, at the fairs, in the ponds, in the shops, in the galleries and even on the damn nature trails.

And the poor parents look suicidal.

]]> John and I were at a relaxing outdoor restaurant yesterday when a couple sat next to us with a newborn baby girl and a three-year-old boy in tow. These stressed-out parents looked so incredibly tired and weathered--like war veterans, or presidents at the end of their terms.

And they had about eight bags with them. I couldn't believe they had to tote around so much crap: a gigantic double stroller, extra diapers, baby wipes, ointments, sippy cups, books, a nursing cover-up, puzzles, games, stupid little Ziploc bags of Cheerios, extra clothes--just in case there's an "accident." And that was just the stuff I could see.

But even with all this, naturally, the three-year-old pest started whining that he wanted a toy that was back at the cottage. Here's how it all went down:

BOY: Daddy...where's my dump truck?

DAD: (panicked, rummaging through bags) Honey, where's his truck? Don't tell me we didn't bring it.

MOM: (already breastfeeding the newborn at the table) I don't know. Did you look in the green bag? Check both outside pockets. As you can see, I'm a little busy right now.

DAD: (still rummaging, now sweating) How could you forget his truck? He's going to freak out without it.

MOM: I'm not the only parent who can pack a bag you know. From now on, you pack the bags.

DAD: Fine...then it'll be done right, and we'll be able to eat in peace for once!

MOM: Go to Hell, Eric.

DAD: Nice--swearing in front of the kids. Very classy!

MOM: F*$% It! We're leaving.

DAD: Oh c'mon, they're bringing the food in a second.

MOM: I don't care; I'll be in the car.

So the frazzled mother grabs the baby and three-year-old--both now crying hysterically--and storms off. Meanwhile, the father instructs the waiter to "just wrap it all up" as if he's said that hundreds of times before. Then--poof!--they're all gone...disappearing into family "vacation" hell.

At this point, I look over at John, so thankful for two things: #1) We don't know those people, and they're not staying with us; and #2) My tiny baby is still inside me for a couple more months, so right now I don't have to feed him, bathe him, change him or even hear him cry. I'm in no rush.

But will John and I hate each other by next summer?

I'm getting very, very nervous.

JOHN: This is precisely why we're only having the one child. It's very rare to see parents out and about with a single child looking completely haggard and disheveled. Sure they may look tired, and they may be wearing sweatpants, but they rarely seem miserable.

And think about it: Just the fact that couples ever decide to have a second child is a testament to a single child being fairly manageable and...maybe even fulfilling.

But show me any couple with two small children under the age of five, and I'll show you two people in full-on "cope" mode. They're simply trying to survive each minute of their lives in order to get to the next minute and then, get that one over with as soon as possible! What kind of a life is that?! (Let's not even discuss people with more than two small children--or even worse, multiples!-- because they're obviously full-blown masochists.)

So what makes anyone have more than one child? Are parents so blinded by love for their first child that they feel compelled to produce a companion for it? Why don't people listen when other parents warn them that the second child raises the stress and difficulty levels exponentially?

I have a friend with three kids and he says: "The only thing I hate more than a couple with no kids, is a couple with one kid, because they think they know."

Now obviously, some parents are better at it then others. And perhaps the couple we saw was just having a really bad day. But I'll never understand what drives a couple to overwhelm their lives with endless childcare.

I think if Amy and I can keep it to just this one child, we may still have a chance.

Sex At Sunrise

2009-06-29T15:24:56Z

He always wants it in the morning

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

Q: DEAR AMY VS. JOHN: I'm an overworked stay-at-home mom of three (2, 4 and 10) and I feel like my husband's sexual needs are getting a little out-of-control. Every morning, at around 6 a.m., he wakes me up wanting sex before he goes to work--but I just want a few more minutes of sleep before my baby wakes up and I have to get my other two ready for school. He even begs me to put on some lacy underwear and garter belts, even though I'm exhausted and I just want to stay in my comfy cotton pajamas. At first, I usually try to put him off saying, "C'mon, let's just do it when you get home." But he always pouts and makes me feel so guilty that I usually end up giving in, even though I'm NEVER really in the mood in the morning. I'd say we end up having sex at least six times a week. In fact, sometimes, he wants it before and after work. I tried to explain that I'd rather do it less, and with more romance, but then he says, "I can't believe you're complaining...Most men cheat, but I still want my wife." I'm still attracted to him, but I'd probably be satisfied having sex once or twice a month. How can we come to a compromise?

(submitted by Lottmarie summarized above)

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A: JOHN: Boy, when I tried to go near Amy just now (it's 7a.m.) she looked at me like I was nuts: "No way Creep! We have to finish the damn blog!"

Do you really get up at 6 a.m. and slide on lacy underwear and garter belts? (Jeez, I'm being so neglected in this marriage!) And sex six times a week?! With three kids? You're the perfect wife! Don't stop! Let's just forget you ever sent in this letter because you don't even have a problem. You--and your lucky husband--should be proud.

And I'll bet he's totally kicking ass at work. By having sex with your husband in the morning, you're providing him with the very best mental and physical state for accomplishing his goals--heck, for conquering the world! And by the way, your husband's right. The best way for a couple to avoid adultery is to have sex before they start their day.

Now, I know you're exhausted, and I know it may seem less romantic at 6 a.m., but if you both make sure that the other is satisfied sexually in the morning (the word "both" is key), you're going to have happier, healthier, more productive lives then the rest of us.

AMY: Sex at 6 a.m.? Just the phrase makes me feel like vomiting. I'll never, ever understand weirdo "morning people." You know, the lunatics who have sex, then run five miles and devour six greasy eggs and a pound of bacon before dawn. I can't imagine anyone even having a conversation before 8 a.m. It's gross.

In my world, nothing is more sacred--and valuable--then sleep. And sex is a traditional nighttime activity, like dancing or going to the movies.

As usual, let me apologize for my idiot husband. He can't understand the fact that not every person wants sweaty "wild" sex at all times. He just thinks: "Hey, as long as they're 'doing it,' their marriage is perfect. Unfortunately, he doesn't acknowledge your HUGE problem: You're agreeing to sex--just to shut your husband up.

Women should never feel obligated to have sex with anyone--including their own pesky mates. And his snide remark about how lucky you are to be groped every morning is disgusting.

Since your husband's acting like a demanding, bratty child, it's high time you start treating him like one. So tomorrow morning, when he rolls over and starts bugging you with his morning breath, just tell him, "Absolutely not! You don't call the shots here...I do."

And never, ever give in again...unless you want it.

Just Agree With Me!

2009-06-26T12:58:24Z

A guide to "listening" for husbands

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

JOHN: As a longtime love advice columnist--and a husband--I should really know better! But I keep making the same dumb mistake over and over again.

RULE: When your wife comes to you with an angry complaint about something, or someone, she wants you to SHUT UP and...LISTEN. She doesn't need you to fix it or try to explain it. She just wants you to be quiet, look her in the eye, and empathize. (Uggh! What could be more tedious? Especially since Amy's angry rants usually last for hours.)]]>
As a man, I naturally assume that complaining (or whining) is more or less a waste of time. Women, however, disagree. Complaining and whining are "therapeutic" and right up there with talking on the phone and shopping.

Amy doesn't want to hear a fresh point of view about her conflict. Never! What Amy really wants is for me to share in her anger.

For example, last night, she came to me bitching and moaning about a silly argument with a friend. As usual, she went on and on, pacing in front of me, blocking the TV the whole time.

"And then she had the nerve to say..."
"And can you believe she actually said..."
"What makes me so mad is that she specifically told me..."
"She's such a @#$%X!!"

I realize now that I was supposed to respond with the following:

"I cannot believe she had the nerve..."
"Oh my god--are you serious? She actually said that?"
"And didn't she specifically tell you..."
"What a @#$%X!!"

If I had just remembered my "reaction rules," and recited those lines, Amy would have been perfectly satisfied with my performance as husband/ sounding board. (And I would've been able to happily go back to playing with my new iPhone for the rest of the night.)

But no...

Because I'm a stupid man, I tried desperately to calm her down. I tried to give her a little healthy perspective. So I kept butting in during her tirade, explaining what may have motivated her friend to act the way she did. I also made the fatal mistake of repeatedly saying, "C'mon Amy, you know you don't mean that; deep down you still really like her."

How could I be such a damn idiot?

Sure enough, Amy lashed out at me:

"You ALWAYS do that!"
"You never, ever side with me!"
"Why the hell are you defending her?! You're so disgustingly disloyal!"
"I can't be married to someone who's such a traitor!"

Why did I even bother? So what if she's angry at her friend? It'll pass; it always does. But why do I feel the need to talk her down from her rage?

Do men ever learn?

AMY: John, you're my husband and I do love you, but--YOU'RE THE WORST "LISTENER" ON EARTH!

To add salt to my wounds, after reading your thoughts above, I now realize that you're completely aware of what you're doing wrong. Yet you still refuse to do the right thing.

Don't you get it? About 75% of your "job" as husband is to, yes, listen to my "rants"...then politely agree with me...even if you don't.

When I complain about, say, the rising interest rate on my credit card, I don't want to hear: "Well, Honey, you know credit card companies need to make money too." (Why the hell are you defending the giant, evil credit card companies, over me?!) You're supposed to say: "Credit card companies are just criminals, plain and simple."

And when I complain about a smelly pervert standing way too close to me on the subway, I don't want to hear: "Maybe the poor guy just didn't realize that he has body odor or that he was standing so close to you." (Good God--whose side are you on?)

Oh, and when we come home from an expensive restaurant, and I complain that the waiter was incredibly rude, bringing me cold food, a full hour after I ordered, I don't want you to say: "Why not give the poor guy a break? He certainly had his hands full."

At this point, I think if I came home, screaming, "John--some monster just snatched my purse!!!" you'd calmly respond with, "Well...he probably needed the money more than you do."

You never, ever side with me--your damn wife!--about anything.

Instead you do the worst thing imaginable. You offer "an alternate point of view."

What's worse than telling your husband a story about someone wronging you, and then having to listen to him defend that person?!

When I'm angry, I certainly don't care about the other side's point of view or perspective.

If someone wrongs me, I expect you to hate that person too.

It's your duty dammit!

Do Children Lower a Couple's Quality of Life?

2009-06-22T16:28:40Z

Does having a child raise or lower a couple's quality of life? Amy and John are dying to know since Amy is expecting!

Backstabbed By His Mom!

2009-06-22T16:04:00Z

I trusted her with my darkest secret

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

Q: DEAR AMY VS. JOHN: I used to have an amazing relationship with my boyfriend's Mom, Liz, until she completely betrayed me! I'm 26, and I've been dating my boyfriend for almost three years. He still lives at home with his single mom, and I go over to his place a lot to hang out. His mom's only 45, and I've always thought she was really funny, cool, and sweet. We all got along so well that often Liz would come out with us to movies, dinner and even night clubbing! (I've never gotten along with my own mom at all so I was really happy to spend time with her.) I always assumed she liked me because she'd say cute things to her son, like, "You'd better put a big ring on her finger before some other smart guy does." I tried really hard to make her like me too, often buying her DVDs of movies she might like, and never forgetting to buy her nice birthday and Christmas gifts. Then, about three weeks ago, Liz asked me out (alone) for Mexican food. I guess I had a few margaritas too many because I ended up confessing my biggest secret, one I've never told her son: I worked as an exotic dancer for a couple of years after high school. At the time, Liz just laughed it off, saying, "Don't worry Honey; your secret's safe with me... now that you're getting your college degree, all that's behind you." BUT right afterward, my boyfriend started blowing me off, not returning my texts, calls or e-mails. When I confronted him, he finally admitted, "My mom says you used to be a stripper and you drink too much, OK?!" I'm so upset! I trusted her, and I wanted to marry him. Any advice?

(submitted by TMIgirl44 summarized above)

]]> A: AMY: Ah! The old take your son's overly trusting girlfriend out alone, get her sloppy drunk on cheap margaritas, then get "the dirt" routine, eh? I have to remember that sneaky "mom trick" myself. But c'mon, what the heck did you think would happen?! Liz will always be his doting mother BEFORE she's your drinking buddy, right? So how could you be stupid enough to believe that she'd ever keep your stripping past a secret? And why should she anyway? You claim you want to marry her son--and you've been dating him for almost THREE years!--but you've never told him that you got naked and swung around a greasy pole for money? Don't those mysterious "two years after high school" ever come up in conversation? If so, what do you say? "I was in the Peace Corps for a couple of years" or "I worked in sales"? Sorry, but I really don't blame your boyfriend for turning on you. And by the way, a former stripper--who drinks too much--isn't exactly a mother's dream daughter-in-law. Despite all that, if your boyfriend really loves you, and believes you've changed, you'll be hearing from him again. Just let him cool off a bit...and be patient.

JOHN: I agree! As long as you were just a young naïve stripper trying to make ends meet--and not an actual hooker--he'll probably get over it. And if he doesn't...Good Riddance! Any wimp in his late twenties who lives at home with his mother and can't decide whom he should date on his own, doesn't deserve you. (Amy, before you say a word, I lived above my parents' garage. It's totally different; it was a completely separate structure! Plus, I was only a year out of college!)

And next time, don't be so afraid of owning up to your past. For certain guys, the "reformed stripper" may be the perfect woman. In fact, you might as well just tell them right off the bat. The right guy will be thrilled to find a girl worth bringing home to mom who's also got a secret wild past of sexual exhibitionism. Just be sure to watch the drinking with the FMIL next time.

Does "Samantha" Exist?

2009-06-19T16:26:58Z

Do some women only want sex?

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

JOHN: Yesterday, an attractive thirty-six-year-old woman told me--point blank--that she doesn't ever want to get married; she doesn't ever want to have kids; and she definitely prefers "booty calls" to long term relationships with men. It really took me by surprise.]]>

John: So let me get this straight. On "Sex and the City" you identified most with Kim Cattrall's character?

Woman: Yes! I'm definitely a Samantha-type.

John: But what about true love? Don't all women want to fall in love?

Woman: Oh I never said that I don't have love in my life. I have amazing friends and a great family. I've got all the love I could ever want. And I even have guy friends whom I love. I just don't love any of them enough to want to spend all of my time with them.

John: What do you say to people who tell you, "You just haven't met the right guy"?

Woman: I tell them that I can't stomach the idea of being stuck with one person for my entire life. I love living alone. I like my "Me Time." I like having my stuff just the way I want it. And I certainly don't want anybody living in my space, messing up my stuff. Most of all, I like my freedom. If I suddenly find myself in a bar full of hot guys and I'm in the mood, I want the freedom to be able to take a hot guy home with me.

John: And so sex is just for sex's sake? There's no emotion in it whatsoever?

Woman: Well, I wouldn't say that "there's no emotion in it whatsoever" but I look at sex as something that a person needs every now and then...like say, sleeping or eating. But I don't need to eat with someone I love for the food to taste good.

This woman seemed completely honest with me and appeared totally confident in her lifestyle choice. Suddenly her logic-- if you know you don't want to have kids, why on earth would you ever feel the need to get married?--started to make sense.

So is this really the attitude of a self-satisfied, evolved modern woman? Or is she just a person who's so doubtful, so disheartened that no guy will ever love her, that she's built this "Samantha" façade to avoid risking any vulnerability.

AMY: Even though "Sex and the City" is only in reruns, there are still plenty of Samantha disciples roaming around, especially here in New York. But--deep down--I've never really bought their "Who needs romance?" routine. I've always thought it was a defensive act.

(However, I definitely do believe there are plenty of women out there who don't want marriage and kids. We'll chat about that on a future blog. )

But let's just discuss the "sex for sex's sake" attitude.

Sure, lots of women claim they have no real need for a solid commitment from one person. They insist that they'd much rather have "no-strings" wild sex, than a long-term relationship. Whatever...that doesn't sound too safe in 2009.

But I say: Every woman--Samantha or not--still wants the guy to call her the next day. There isn't a woman on this planet who doesn't enjoy a heart-felt love letter, a car door opened for her, or a beautiful bouquet for no reason. I can't believe that any woman doesn't feel secretly hurt when I guy is perfectly happy to have sex with her, but doesn't think she's worth taking out to a decent dinner. (And by the way, if people are so comfortable sleeping around, why do they so often need alcohol in order to do it? Or do they just use alcohol as a convenient excuse afterward?)

Bottom line: We can pretend all we want, but humans crave love, affection and attachment...just as much as sex.

Sure, I agree that sex is a healthy part of life for adults. But to only recognize the physical aspect of sex is pretty sad and shortsighted. If a woman truly loves, respects and trusts her partner, sex has the capacity to be so much deeper and more exciting. The physical part is just scratching the surface.

Of course, promiscuous men, LOVE the fact that these Samantha-types exist because then they can act like selfish dogs--guilt free. When they get what they want and then tip toe out, they can tell themselves, "Hey she wanted it too...and she knew it was just a booty call--no big deal."

But all sex should be a big deal. It's no coincidence that sex, in and of itself, has such serious emotional and physical consequences. It's supposed to!

I wonder what would happen if all women held men to a higher standard?

Video: What's the Sexiest Movie Scene?

2009-06-16T14:30:32Z

The sexiest scene in movie history? Amy loves the famous staircase scene in "Gone With The Wind" and almost every scene in "Romeo and Juliet." John picked the telephone scene in "It's A Wonderful Life."

What's your pick for sexiest scene in movies?

Lipgloss Liar!

2009-06-15T16:08:35Z

It's not mine...so whose is it?

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

Q: DEAR AMY VS. JOHN: A few weeks ago, I was in the passenger seat of my fiancé, Joe's car. We were going to a party and I was on my cell, getting the details. I needed a pen, but as usual, I couldn't find one in my bag. So I asked, "Got a pen anywhere?" He told me to "look around." So I searched in his glove compartment, all over the floor, then finally in the console between us. I found two working pens--PLUS a tube of barely-used, Revlon sparkly, plum-colored lipgloss--NOT MINE!!! I froze. Then I demanded that he pull over. I wanted to kill him! I shoved the lipgloss in his face and screamed, "What the f*%# is THIS?!!!" Joe looked me straight in the eye and said, "Don't scream at me, Psycho...I've never seen that thing before in my life." We spent over an hour on the side of the road arguing. He reminded me that he bought his 2004 Mitsubishi Eclipse from "a youngish woman" (in 2006) who probably left it in the car by accident. Deep down, I still think he's lying. I don't know why. But I was so upset at the party that I felt like crying. No matter what he says, I feel like I can't trust him anymore. And I've refused to have sex with him ever since this happened. He's sticking with his explanation, but how can I make sure that he's telling me the truth?

(submitted by Kiddes summarized above)

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A: JOHN: Sparkly lip gloss? So he's having an affair with a fourteen-year-old? Look, I agree it's suspicious, but is there any other evidence whatsoever? Have you caught him lying about other things? Can he not account for his time away from you? Has he been acting distant or quiet? Other than finding the lipgloss, what solid reason do you have to not trust him? You're engaged for God's sake, so why not give him the benefit of the doubt?

That being said, the couple of times I've bought used cars, I went through every single compartment, cup holder and ashtray as soon as I took possession. There's no way in hell that I wouldn't have noticed a tube of lipgloss in the center console. So if you really need to be sure, bluff and tell him that you want to show the lipgloss to the previous owner of the car. If Joe's innocent, he'll reluctantly agree to this demand--and you'll have your answer. (And then, there'll be no real need to actually get the previous owner involved.)

AMY: People who sell their used cars usually aren't even willing to answer legitimate questions about the engine, brake pads, or a suspicious dent on the door. So what the heck makes you think this previous owner's going to answer a bunch of questions about some stupid old lipgloss? It's pretty doubtful.

But I have another suggestion. (It'll take a little makeup detective work, but it might offer you some clues.) You write that it's a specific "Revlon sparkly plum-colored lip gloss"...correct? OK, what is the exact name on the little round sticker at the bottom of the tube? Now go to your local drug store and check if that specific item is still available on the shelf. Or you can check the Revlon website to see if it's a current shade available for purchase. Every few years, major cosmetic companies tend to change the color names, packaging and code numbers of items to keep things fresh. So--if your fiancé bought the car in 2006--you might be able to figure out if this item existed in 2006. In other words, if you check both the drug store and the website and you can't find anything that completely matches the lip gloss in question, then--hallelujah!--his story holds up.

But if you do find the exact item for sale you'll need to investigate further. Of course, it's possible that he's still telling the truth, but you'll need to dig a bit deeper.

(Unfortunately, after reviewing my advice, I realized that I tote around a bunch of old, expired, rotten lip glosses in my own messy bag. So Joe could be currently having an affair with someone lazy like me, who just doesn't throw out old cosmetics. Sorry, I don't mean to complicate things...just thought I'd mention it.)

Breaking Baby News!

2009-06-12T15:49:49Z

Amy and John are having a baby

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

AMY: Yes, it's one hundred percent true! There's so much to tell, so where do I begin?

OK, let's start with the basic facts: John and I are expecting our first child--a baby boy--early this fall. (The "boy" detail really threw me for a loop because I was always certain that, when I got pregnant, I would definitely have a girl--no question. In fact, I'd been keeping an ongoing list of beautiful girls' names since I was about twelve. But I'd never even thought about boys' names. So much for my great "intuition.")

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These days, every time I catch my reflection in a mirror or a shiny store window, I think, "OH MY GOD...I'm going to be a mother?!"

(It's thrilling and terrifying for me to type those words.) But am I really ready to be a mother? Will I know how to take care of a baby? Do I even like babies? Will I lose my freedom forever? What about my marriage? How much does it really hurt to give birth? Will I get stretch marks? Don't we have to move to a bigger place now? What do I need to buy for a baby? Scary questions like these are flooding my mind non-stop now. That's normal, right?

I'm so excited, but I just can't believe it's really happening. Even though I do realize that I'm going to have a child, it won't seem "real" until there's a live, screaming baby in my arms. I need to see his pink little moving toes and a fuzzy little head to believe it. No matter how many blurry sonograms I'm handed, it's still just a bizarre dream to me.

When I'm alone, in bed or in the bathtub, I can feel my mysterious little creature shift around from side to side, then abruptly kick me a bunch of times. And I can actually look down and watch my stomach violently move up and down, like there's a trapped squirrel or ferret inside me, desperately trying to escape. These are the times when I honestly can't believe how crazy pregnancy is.

Of course, I would've blurted out the baby announcement sooner, but I'm insanely superstitious. Everyone warned me, "Don't blab about it until you start showing; it's bad luck."

Well, the cat's out of the bag because I'm certainly showing now. (Although you can't really tell from our "Amy vs. John" videos because we only shoot from the neck up.) Suddenly, I have a big potbelly. And it feels semi-hard, kind of like an over-ripened watermelon. Since I've never been pregnant before, or touched anyone else's pregnant stomach, I just assumed my expectant belly would be soft and doughy. I was wrong.

It's funny. Recently, when I get in the elevator in my apartment building, my confused neighbors smile at me, then discreetly glance down at my brand new big stomach poking out from my T-shirt or blouse. I watch them all do it. They look surprised, then they open their mouths to say, "Are you pregnant?" But they all stop themselves, afraid that maybe I've just gotten fat.

Speaking of getting fat, gaining weight--without guilt--has been by far my biggest challenge during pregnancy. Like most American women, ever since I was a teenager, I've tried to watch what I eat. I haven't been completely obsessed, but I've made sure that I never went over a certain size or weight. (I like to think I'm in control.) But now, every time I go to the obstetrician and the nurse happily announces my new weight, I literally cringe. Then my doctor says, "Don't worry about the number now Amy--it's all for the baby; and it's not all about you anymore."

Not all about me anymore?? I don't like the sound of that!

JOHN: Even though I've always dreamt of becoming a father and raising a child with Amy, the news that she was actually pregnant came as a complete surprise. I was shocked! I'm still shocked. Every day, I walk around in a daze with a confused look on my face. It seems like nothing in my life has really changed yet. But then, I'll be at work, just standing there and an incredibly intense emotion--it could be elation, terror, pride or panic-- will just envelop my mind like someone's blown smoke in my face. But then--poof!--it's gone, and everything's back to normal until the next one hits.

As Amy points out, it's hard to comprehend that anything's happened at all. I'm still the same person and so is Amy (except for that giant, moving hard thing in her stomach). We're still pretty much living our usual lives.

But a baby is coming! And fast!

He's coming to live with us. Indefinitely!

WHAT?!!!

And we have to feed it, change it, and give it EVERYTHING...

...FOREVER!

So, to sum up, I'm shocked. And I don't know what the hell I'm going to do, but I'm really looking forward to this.

Video: Is Monogamy Natural?

2009-06-12T15:46:06Z

The nature vs. nurture debate continues! Amy and John argue that monogamy has become natural.

My Breasts Are Fake

2009-06-08T15:51:20Z

Do I have to tell him about my boob job?

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

Q: DEAR AMY VS. JOHN: I'm 31, and I've been dating "Jason" for almost seven months now, and things have been awesome. We met while lifting weights at my local gym; we're both really into fitness. My secret: I used to be pretty fat. In fact, I lost nearly sixty pounds in my early twenties. The sudden weight loss left my smallish, already saggy breasts really droopy. I was so embarrassed that I never wanted any guys to see me naked...or even in a bathing suit. So I decided to get a breast augmentation for my twenty-fifth birthday. I went to an excellent doctor and opted for a behind-the-muscle procedure. Overnight I went from a miserable 36B to a confident 36DD. And the best part is, NO ONE can tell I have implants. Only my parents and two younger sisters even know I had the surgery. But I'm starting to feel really guilty lately because "Jason" keeps complimenting me on my "awesome body." On our first date, I asked him why he asked me out and he said, "Are you kidding? You had the hottest body at the gym; I had to get your number." And when we're in bed, he keeps focusing on my boobs, saying, "Your breasts are the best I've ever seen--perfect size, perfect shape." I feel so stupid now because it's been nearly seven months, and I've never told him the truth. Plus, I know that he hates fake breasts because, one night while we were watching TV, a girl came on some dumb MTV reality show with HUGE implants and he said, "Yuck--there's nothing worse than fake tits." So if he can't tell, why do I need to tell him?

(submitted by DistresseDD summarized above)

]]> A: AMY: Technically, I guess you don't have to tell him, but--no matter how extraordinary your breast surgery is--sooner or later the truth is gonna leak out. (Let's just hope that's all that leaks out!) So think... down the road. What if you eventually decide you want to marry this guy, and have a child. Are you going to keep your implants a secret while you're breastfeeding his baby? And what if you end up having trouble breastfeeding because of the surgery? How will you explain yourself then? What if the tables were turned? How would you feel if you found out "Jason" was born with a very different nose, and had rhinoplasty surgery years ago, but never told you? Wouldn't you feel duped if you believed your boyfriend had a button nose like Brad Pitt's, when it was originally more of a shnoz like, say Adrien Brody's? Everyone deserves to know the truth about their partner's real bodies. Although, to be honest, it's hard to understand why you'd want to hold on to this jerk who spends his time lifting weights, watching MTV reality shows and talking non-stop about your "awesome body" and "perfect" breasts. I say, take your fake boobs and move on.

JOHN: I don't know whether to say "Congratulations!" or "I'm so sorry" because you either have one helluva boob job or one heck of a dumb boyfriend. Is it really possible that "Jason" can't tell they're fake? Maybe he worries you're self-conscious about them so he just acts like they're real to make you feel better. I think "Jason" knows, but he's just never mentioned it because he feels it would be impolite. I know he said "there's nothing worse then fake tits" but he could have meant "there's nothing worse than obvious fake tits." In which case, it sounds like you have a sweet, sensitive MTV-watching, weight-lifting gentleman on your hands. So don't listen to Amy. Stay the course and enjoy your relationship. (By the way, I'm sure Amy watches just as much junk on TV as "Jason" and she's just jealous of anybody who has the discipline to go to the gym on a regular basis.)

BUT... if you're really not sure if he knows, and you want to rid yourself of your guilt, why not just mention the surgery casually in a conversation? The next time someone starts talking about cosmetic surgery on television (you won't have to wait long), just chime in: "I have to say, it's been six years now, and I'm really pleased with the way my surgery has held up."

If Jason is shocked and starts screaming "Surgery! What surgery?" then you were right--he's clueless. Just tell him "I assumed you knew," and let the chips fall. Most likely, he'll get over it and you'll have nothing to worry about.

Wife Knows Best

2009-06-05T11:36:43Z

Should wives control their husbands?

By Amy Kean and John D. Schwartz

JOHN: Yesterday, I got a haircut. (OK, I know what you're thinking: "Jeez, now they're writing blogs about what they did yesterday!" Boring! I agree. But keep reading because I promise I'm going somewhere with this.)

So after my haircut, I returned home. As I walked through the door--before I even put my keys down--Amy glanced up from her laptop and said, matter-of-factly, "You have to go back."

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"WHAT?!!" I whimpered, as I ran to the bathroom to find out what was wrong.

Since I only get my hair cut about three times a year, it's always somewhat traumatic for me. (That's right, I'm a guy who cares about his haircut, most of us do.) Anyway, when I left the salon, I was feeling pretty confident. All I needed was my adoring wife to throw her arms around me and say, "Honey, you look so handsome, so sexy; I love you!"

Instead I got, "Are you kidding? It's way too long in the back; it's a damn mullet!"

I was speechless. I ran to another, even bigger mirror. This time I craned my neck to get a look at the back of my head. Sure enough, my hair was longer than usual in the back. How did I not notice? (Have I become one of those dopey husbands who can't even see himself without his wife?)

"Go back to the salon right now." Amy insisted. "You can't walk around like that; (here's where she started laughing at me) you look like Kenny Powers."

"I'm not going back; it's fine," I said defiantly, but knowing she was right. "It'll look better after it grows in a bit."

Amy wasn't buying it.

"You'd better leave now before the salon closes for the night."

"But I don't want to GO BACK!" I pleaded, feeling more and more like Amy's son--than husband. If I'd had a problem with my haircut, I should've said something while I was still in the chair. I can't march back into the salon now and demand that my stylist stop whatever she's doing and put me back in the chair just to trim more off the back...just because my controlling wife says so. It's too embarrassing!

"JUST GO NOW!" Amy continued. "I'm not looking at that mullet for the next three months!"

Would it be worth it to keep my ridiculous mullet, just to prove that my wife can't always tell me how to look?

The answer was NO.

Ten minutes later, I was back in my haircutter's chair. "I'm so sorry, it's just that my wife gets crazy sometimes. She's forcing me to get more taken off the back. I think it looks great but my wife's a bit..."

"Don't worry John; this happens all the time with my married, male clients," my haircutter laughed. "When men get married, their wives become their mirrors."

And of course, now I've got a great haircut.

AMY: As usual, you're determined to portray me as an insulting, controlling monster, when really all I'm trying to do is help.

But it's true; I do believe that a huge part of a wife's job is to refine (read: control) her husband's "look" including clothing, shoes and hair.

So does that mean I'm your mirror? Whatever. Who cares--I can't help it.

But guess what? You control my "look" too; you probably just don't realize it.

Even though I like to pretend that I'm so strong and confident that I don't care one bit about what you think, it's not true. I love you, so of course, I want to look perfect to you. That's just how it is.

In fact, over the years, I've kept careful mental notes on every single remark you've ever made about women on the street, in movies or in magazines. Here is a sampling of your likes and dislikes:

JOHN LIKES:

1)    Women in glasses. If they're pretty, John thinks the glasses can look incredibly sexy.
2)    Women in tight, simple turtlenecks.
3)    Women in short--yet tasteful--skirts with thick, dark opaque tights.
4)    Women with their hair pulled back in a simple, sleek ponytail.
5)    Women wearing head-to-toe midnight navy. He prefers it to black.

JOHN DISLIKES:

1)    Women with breast implants.
2)    Women who wear a lot of make-up.
3)    Women who are very tall, over 5'10" and up.
4)    Women with tattoos on their lower back.
5)    Women with super-thin eyebrows, who regularly overpluck and therefore need to draw them on.

So, you see, you're my mirror too. And when I get a new haircut, or outfit, I look to you for approval and advice. You're my husband; it's part of your job!

And if my haircut looks bad, I want you to care enough to tell me the unfiltered truth.

That's exactly what I did.