After some recent experiences of my own I started to think pretty seriously about all the grief that high-maintenance men give their normally patient significant others. Ya know, it’s not fair that women get the bad rap for being high maintenance, especially when it comes to relationships. I think men have a tendency to be just as, if not more, high maintenance.

I feel so strongly about it that I even made a Squidoo lens on the definition of high maintenance husbands (HMH) and I’m pretty proud of it. It’s high time that wives spoke out against these HMH’s behavior.

Compliments to you all for keeping them in line and loving them even though they spend more time on their hair than you, more money on their wardrobe than you, and more time planning social gatherings than you.

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If you are high maintenance and are looking for your match, then maybe online dating is for you. Sign up for the Dating Tales profile writing service and begin your search for love today.

Someone I know is busy planning a wedding and a new life with her husband-to-be. Listening to her talk about the details I feel overwhelmed for her. I’m surprised I haven’t found her huddled in more corners crying herself into sedation.

But no, she perseveres. Each day she crosses more and more things off her to do list and gets more and more excited for the big day. Despite the bummers of wedding planning, honeymoon planning (they are traveling the world for undecided amount of time), moving (did I mention they sold their condo so they can travel?), and managing their own businesses, the couple still seems really happy.

They laugh a lot. They love each other a lot. They are even nice to each other in front of other people sometimes…it’s weird and a little gross.

They started dating about 2 ½ years ago and are still unclear who kissed who first. They are that kind of couple. They fight about the things that are fun to fight about.

About six months into the relationship she knew that she loved him. She went online and found a gift for him to hint at it because there was no way she was going to say it first. She purchased a sterling silver fortune cookie and had the words “You will have good fortune in love” printed on the piece of paper that was tucked inside of the cookie.

She chose these words because of a text message he had sent her months before. He had lunch without her and that was the fortune he received.

Now fast forward a year and half. They are living together and both are very happy. It was a pretty typical night with nothing much going on out of the ordinary. She was watching Grey’s Anatomy on the couch and he was busy ordering Chinese take out.

After the meal he came from the kitchen holding two fortune cookies. He stood before her and opened his. His fortune read: “You will have good fortune in love.”

My friend was speechless. She couldn’t understand how the fortune cookie could actually say that (she’s very literal). Dumbfounded, she just sat there with her mouth open and staring back at him. He had a goofy smile on his face and she was busy trying to figure out what was going on (was he proposing?). He nudged her to open her fortune cookie and once she did she saw the words: “Will you marry me?”

By now he was on his knees in front of her, and he had pulled a tiny box out from beneath the couch.

Like so many people I know that have gotten engaged, she doesn’t really remember what she said or what happened next. She said it was surreal. He said that only seconds after she had the ring she was planning their wedding and trying to decide who to call first.

So now here they are. Colors are decided, fittings are done, the buffet is selected, and the guest list is finalized. What a love story.

I hope they have fortune cookies for dessert. I love those yummy things.

Whether or not you choose to vote for Hillary Clinton in the upcoming election and whether or not you think Bill’s affair with Monica Lewinsky (and who knows who else) even matters, it is interesting to read and hear what Hillary has to say about the affair.

As reported in People Magazine, Clinton appeared on the daytime talk show, The Tyra Banks Show, as part of her current media tour and even agreed to discuss the Lewinsky affair. She’s spoken about this a little bit on other shows as well and it’s nice to finally hear that she was ticked off about the whole thing.

“The momentary feelings — you know, you are mad, you are really upset, you are disappointed — all of that goes through your mind …” Clinton said. “I have found you really shouldn’t make decisions in the heat of those moments.”

Although her comments are refreshing, it sure would be nice to know what she said to the man. But I suppose that’s none of my business. Points to Hillary for finally talking about the one thing we’ve all wondered about for so long.

We talked about it. She wrote it. I like it.

Read about the crazy hugging going on in some relationships over at 29 and holding.

My friend Alex won a radio contest for “worst tattoo” and received free tattoo removals from Denver company, Ink-B-Gone. The tale of this tattoo is one of a crush, love, and, of course, a really bad tattoo.

You’ve probably noticed in the picture that it looks like flames are coming out of her ass. You’ve probably also noticed the Chinese symbol in the center of the tattoo that she “thinks” means courage. You’ve probably also noticed that Alex is a small woman and this enormous tattoo has taken over her back and rear end.

The only reason the tattoo is so big is because of the influence of a cute tattoo artist who also proved himself to be a good salesman. He introduced Alex to the design, and she, with twitterpation, eagerly agreed to the concept.

Now, 10 years later she’s wishing she hadn’t. Alex has spent more time in the last 10 years shopping for clothes that will cover the tat and explaining to boyfriends the logic of her 18-year-old mind than she has actually enjoying it.

So when she heard about the contest on Denver’s radio station Alice 106, she leaped at an opportunity to enter. She even cc’d her boyfriend on the e-mail she sent to the morning crew certain he’d be happy about the prospect of her flame-free ass.

But to her surprise, he wasn’t that happy. He tried to convince her that she should just be proud of it and that the removal itself would be too painful. Alex was a little deflated that he wasn’t as psyched about the idea as she was. In a way she felt like she was doing it for him.

And when Alex actually won the contest, his tune didn’t change. He urged her to just leave it alone saying he loved her no matter what her butt looked like. But despite his urges, she agreed to the tattoo removals. As painful as the sessions have proven to be, she decided she loved her body too much to leave it there.

Not that kind of cheater.

I recently signed up for a fitness boot camp and because I enjoyed it so much (I lost something like 4 inches), I dragged my boyfriend into joining a second, five week session with me. Turns out he doesn’t love all the running, push ups, lunges, and puking sensations that go along with it. I can’t say I blame him, it’s not for everyone.

Tonight was the last night of this camp and as we were driving away he let it be known that he cheated in the competition they made us do. You see, the class was split up into teams and instructed to run all over the city to find the names of particular stores, restaurants, etc. Well my team did just that, but he, instead, found a map and located the names that way.

So yeah, he’s a cheater. A winning cheater. But I love him anyway.

This morning my boyfriend asked me how much I loved him. I responded with “lots.” Because I do. I love him lots. Apparently this wasn’t enough so he asked for an analogy on how much I loved him.

Fast forward about six hours.

I’ve had two cups of coffee, three glasses of water, some orange juice and had been sitting at my computer for an unknown period of time. My legs shook uncontrollably because of my strong urge to pee. Once I tired of the shakes I got up to use the bathroom, but there was an obstacle. I couldn’t untie the string of my capri pants.

I struggled for several minutes all the while dancing around the bathroom trying to untie the knot. Afraid of an accident, I found Jason in his office.

“Can you help me untie this? I really have to pee.”

He laughed loudly. Then he reached for the camera.

I scurried back to the bathroom and locked the door. After another minute or so (felt like hours) my pants were undone and I was gleefully singing while I peed, no thanks to him.

So Jason, about that analogy. Here it is: I love you so much that I will untie your pants for you when you need to pee and I won’t even ask about the wet spot on your leg.

How’s that for romance?

My day job is in marketing and PR. I recently attended a conference in Orlando as an exhibitor where I met an older, friendly couple familiar with the area. They were both very talkative and eager to tell me about local restaurants and attractions that didn’t involve the ever-so-prevalent mouse (as in Mickey). They were also eager to talk about the hotel they were staying at and how unhappy they were with the accommodations.

Moments after the converstaion ended and the couple walked away from my booth, the man came back.

“We’re married. We have different last names, but I just want you to know she’s my wife. I didn’t want you to get the wrong impression about us sharing a hotel room.”

My reaction was delayed. I heard the words that were coming out of his mouth, but I didn’t understand why he was telling me.  I smiled, laughed a little, and responded with: “uh, no problem.”

I didn’t get it. Why did he care what I thought? But then I realized it wasn’t so much me that he cared about. He was protecting her honor. As old-fashioned as it is, and even though I don’t necessarily agree with it (women should keep their names if they want to and sleep with men they aren’t married to for that matter) it is romantic to see a man who respects his wife so much that he doesn’t want a perfect stranger to misunderstand her.

I recently took a writing class and the first assignment was to write a love letter to my lover or a former luva. At the time I was single and couldn’t retreive any loving feelings, so I decided to play the role of a crazy person. I think I came pretty close.

Dear Jack,

I know you think I’m a stalker and at this point I can’t do much more than convince you otherwise with this letter my last ditch effort.  Unless, of course, I receive another sign from the universe like last time, then I may try to contact you again. I realize you probably won’t read this, but I have to at least try. I can’t get close to you like I want to (the cops made sure of that) and all of my other letters ended up back in my mailbox.

Again, I know you think I’m crazy because of some of my actions, but you must know that my friends and family (the people that know me best) do not feel that way. If you were to ask any one of them they would tell you I’m the sanest one of the bunch. Everyone comes to me for advice. I’m telling you I should have been a therapist. But that’s not the point.

The point is that you’ve proven yourself to be a nice and caring guy. You always said “hi” to me in the halls and you always kept the restraints loose enough so it didn’t hurt. Aside from having trust issues, you really are perfect for me. And I’m perfect for you too. The universe says so. How else can you explain the cloud formation that said JACK AND JILL n’ FOREVER. You saw the photo taped to my door, how could you deny it? And then, of course, there is the nursery rhyme. If that’s not a prophecy I don’t know what is.

I guess you want an apology from me for hitting you on the head with the pail, telling everyone at the hospital about our feelings for each other and for calling your fiance, so I will you give you one if that is what it takes for us to work this out. I’m sorry for crossing boundaries. When you’re ready to work on “us” you can find me back at The Ward. I returned last week.

Love, Jill

The fight that my boyfriend (BF) and I have is about the telephone. With cell phones our lives are so much easier, but yet he still doesn’t call. Below is a list of reasons the BF gives me in order of frequency. Please comment and add to the list. I know I’m not alone.

1) I didn’t want to tell you no. Socially, I’m overbooked. The BF is under booked. We both know and enjoy this about ourselves, yet it doesn’t stop me from wanting him to go with me to the cocktail party, or the movie, or yoga, or whatever else I must do on a random Tuesday night. He gets tired of turning me down, so he just doesn’t pick up.

2) I forgot my phone in the car. This one is a biggy. The BF insists on using the phone during his commute. As a result, the phone is left in the console, he ends up on the couch, and I’m across town wondering where the hell he is!

3) I fell asleep. Lazy bum.

4) Phone wasn’t working. The phone might not be working for a variety of reasons. There is the very common dead battery, the even more common poor reception, and then the not so common occurrence of dropping the phone in the toilet.

5) It was too late. He knows I won’t pick up once I’m asleep, but in the morning when I see he still hasn’t called it only makes matters worse.

6) I knew you were mad. I don’t have huge anger issues, but I have my moments. When the BF’s phone is turned off, my moment turns into an event.

7) In the hospital. This only happened once and is not as horrible as it sounds. Apparently any minor flesh wound prohibits the use of cell phones.

Why can’t he say that he just didn’t want to?