yknot,
best friends are required to let you wallow in self-pity, veg on a tub of Blue Bell and get mani/pedis and eyebrow shaping. My husband serves as the person who says 'get over it, go take a hike around the track, and lets go canoeing!
I'm tempted to say "same treatment, different method" - but, come to think of it, that's because the girly notions of "best friend" don't appeal to me at all. Self-pity and overeating are solitary pleasures. When I have to vent I usually turn to my sister, because she's done the same to/with me.
With my "best friends," when I have them, I discuss the meaning of life and other spiritual matters brain candy
"best friend" would be uncomfortable and would turn him into a metrosexual
Actually, I like metrosexuality except when it gets banal. My husband would be a metrosexual if he weren't sorta lazy - in short, he's perfect
My dad is a metrosexual; had a magnificent wardrobe, and when he went out with my mom (frequently), he had the entire family helping him pick the accessories for his outfit. We all enjoyed it and he always looked fantastic. But I would never have gone for a manicure with him, no
gently f eral