Try as I might to avoid Coupledoom, at times I find myself suffering from the nasty side effects of a long-term relationship. These include—but are not limited to—large, unsightly butt imprints in my couch cushions, overdoses of Chinese take-out and a hefty cable bill from renting too many movies On Demand. Not one to be held down, I often make it my mission to ensure that being one half of a pair doesn’t leave my favorite sex-kitten stilettos lying in my closet collecting dust.

When I recently set out to plan a date night for my other half and me, I wanted to find the perfect middleground between nights spent on the couch watching bad TV and nights that end with me stumbling past the doorman at 4 a.m. with a bag of McDonalds in hand. After polling my crew of NYC foodies and scouring the Internet, I decided that dinner would be at the new East Village eatery Degustation. Next to buying my first pair of Choos, this was perhaps the best decision I have made in my entire adult life.
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They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. And, as we know, every sexy lady likes to get gussied up in a hot dress. Now you can combine the two in a devilishly delectably way—an edible dress! Now I’m not talking edible in the fruit roll-up, stripper panties sense. I’m talking about a gourmet gown made of chocolate, the rich and mouth-watering kind that appeared on the runway at the 9th Annual Chocolate Show.

As soon as I entered Metropolitan Pavilion, I was greeted with a slice of extra-dark Cacao Reserve chocolate and a glass of red wine by Robert Mondavi. Though I am not a big fan of either red wine or dark chocolate, the combination was truly delicious. A sensual explosion, if you will. Spread across two huge rooms, the show featured more than 100 booths of the sweet stuff, from sweet white to bitter dark—spicy, fruity, filled with nuts, and everything in between.
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I hate to be the one to break it to you, ladies, but this life we lead is not entirely one of glitz and glamour. Many women around the world have never heard the names Manolo Blahnik or Miuccia Prada as their daily lives are more affected on a day-to-day basis by Hezbollah or Mao Tse Tsung.

Tuesday, I attended the International Women’s Media Foundation’s Courage in Journalism Awards, honoring some among us who literally put their lives and limbs on the line in pursuit of truth. The lunch reception was held in the majestic Waldorf=Astoria ballroom; 638 power-suited attendees sipped Sauvignon Blanc, savored salmon and sat enrapt as they honored four fearless women.
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Looking for a foolproof evening of intimacy with your new beau? May I suggest handcuffs and wine? This was the very theme of a party I attended on Saturday. The object of the night is to partner up with a fellow wino and finishing a bottle of your favorite varietal. The cuffs don’t come off until you’ve sipped the last drop. Kind of like Prison Break meets Blind Date.

As more ads for The Black Dahlia surface on television, I keep being reminded of a night when I visited the Spotted Pig in Manhattan’s West Village a few months ago. Though I have been to the Spotted Pig many times, the movie reminds me of this particular visit because Scarlett Johansson and Josh Hartnett were hanging out with Jay Z. Random group? I thought so.

My pal Amy is getting hitched in a week. Though I’ve attended a handful of weddings in recent years, I’ve only been to one other bachelorette party. That experience involved body shots off a burly biker named Rob in Hibbing, Minnesota, and building a bonfire in a cornfield. So when the planner for Amy’s carouse emailed for ideas for the outing, I naturally suggested the most likely venue to have hirsute denizens. I suggested the Russian & Turkish Baths.