Wow! We here at DABA headquarters are thrilled at all the responses we’ve received since the NYT article ran. We couldn’t be happier that the article has prompted such straightforward discourse on relationships and gender roles. Since according to Gawker we already landed a sweet book deal, we thought we’d sit back and share a few of the e-mails we received yesterday.

P dot S – Please be aware there is no swearing on DABA Girls. Kindly incorporate asterisks to express your rage.  Additionally, under no circumstances will unpleasant monikers for a girl’s Britney be posted.

From M.S.

“You have half the US blogs in an uproar! Hilarious! Congratulations on your work – brilliant! Kind regards,”

From A.Z., Therapist

“For all the months of the downturn, I’ve had men and women in my office who are or were in banking (or elsewhere in the finance industry) turning themselves inside out to figure out who they are now! For some, relationships with significant others or spouses seem to be surviving. For many others, they’ve tanked, too.”

From “Lisa”, Publishing

“I just want you guys to know that I totally feel your pain. “Matt”, my boyfriend, worked at Lehman’s for a while (we met in college, but didn’t get together til a few years later). Things were great - lots of trips to Europe (I went to Milan 4 times in like 6 months). It was amazing and we were so happy together. Until one day when he called me on his lunch break, something he never did before. He sounded panicked. He had heard the rumors and everyone was freaking out. I reassured him that I loved him and that things were gonna be just fine, but really I was freaking out too. Interestingly, when he came home, he was totally calm. He was 100% sure he was going to be fired and because it all seemed out of his hands, he felt free and almost relaxed. The sex was better than ever, like crazy good. We even made plans to go to his parents’ cottage in the Bahamas the week that he got let go so he could “reassess” his life. Things seemed really positive.

Then the sh*t hit the fan. He was technically fired from Lehman’s but he was immediately offered a job at Neuberger Berman, a company that took over a lot of Lehman’s assets (or whatever was left of them). He was torn. Part of him had been thrilled to be free of that job, but another - perhaps more sensible - part told him to take the new job even though it paid less and generally sucked. Now, though he’s employed, I never see him and he’s miserable. The sex is awful (when we find ourselves inclined, which is rare). I still have my job in magazine publishing but who knows. I feel your guys’ pain. Keep writing….”

From “J,” Occupation Unknown

“My friend just sent me a link to your blog. Dear God, it’s brilliant. Are there actually meetings? And if so, can I come? I’m engaged to a finance guy and all he does in the evenings is come home and pull his hair out while watching CNBC, so I have tons of free time. Thanks!”

From “Cathy,” Occupation Unknown

“OK I’m not in my 30’s I’m in my 40’s, so me and my banker have a lot to lose - the apartment with private roof deck, 2 kids, opera tickets, the wine club. We agreed to pretend nothing would change (though we wouldn’t do anything lavish - we stayed in Manhattan for Christmas and finally saw the Nutcracker, for example) until he got his number in January, and then we’d adjust, whatever.

Number is in and it’s a 75% cut, ladies. We’re looking at just enough money to make our mortgage payments, paying none of the principle down. So we aren’t going to lose the house yet, but we aren’t going to think about THAT until NEXT January. Meanwhile: My own dinky-by comparison salary, which had been my own since I went back to work so I could have the company of grownups, is no longer my own. It all will be spent on family expenses. The sitter’s hours are cut, both the family and my private credit card are cut in half, and I’m switching from having my facials and massages in my earthy, yoga-and-wine serving downtown spa to a midtown been-in-business-forever place with ladies in cubbies wearing pink jackets and lots of make-up giving facials only. I know, I know, only old people and gay men go there these days, but congested skin isn’t an alternative for me, so I have to go someplace. I’ll do it once every 6 weeks instead of monthly, and it is 1/3 the price of the facials at the spa. And I remember from the 80’s that they do a good job.

It gets worse. I’ll now be doing my pilates with others, in class, on the mat instead of on the machines with my private instructor. This truly frightens me. I could hurt myself competing with you 20-30 yr-olds. Private was so much less humiliating.

And yes, cooking at home. We had been enjoying the new Whole Foods to-go foods section so very much. Oh well - hello Associated Market. Did you know you can sauté’ an entire bag of frozen spinach in a large frying pan with a bit of onion and olive oil, chop a bit of domestic feta into and serve it to your whole family with a squeeze of lemon, and it’s a healthy and cheap alternative to pasta as a main dish? It is so good for you and the kids love it. And we’ll need the alternative because there will be a lot of pasta. Cooking pasta sauce on the weekends isn’t my idea of a good time, but that’s what we will be doing because I’m not ready to do something original every day. I have always been a great appreciator of other people’s cooking.

My kids are unspoiled enough to be happy but their over-programmed lives are going to be a lot less programmed. My daughter said, “Yay - can I have more play dates?” They are, however, pissed off about the end of cable TV and Internet access on their cell phones. They have to do something when there is no cartoon network, Nick or Disney Channel. We’re going high-brow; PBS only, and they will keep their piano lessons. They are getting good - we haven’t the heart to cut that off, and someone has to be entertaining around here.

And I’m very lucky - I love this banker, and he gives nearly as good a massage as my spa does. This is the first thing we’re doing this weekend to inaugurate our brave new world - give massages to EACH OTHER with ginger-scented oil. It was a gift with some lotion and soap, which is long gone. It kept well in the drawer, and I think it will last awhile.

I’ve seen some negative responses to your blog and I think they’re all transparent douche-bags. I think you two are great. My banker emailed the NYT article to me 30 minutes ago…Probably because he is now more connected to his blackberry, CNBC, and generally any update he can get his hands on, more than he has ever been before. When I started reading the posts I felt like someone had been hanging out in my brain for awhile. The need for sex, the fighting, the emotional crap, the pathetic new social life….It is all the same over here in my world! Thanks for the laughs and comfort! We’ll all have better days again….maybe we should consider dating artists? Nah!”

From Josh

“Ladies, I Think your blog totally ROCKS and totally enjoyed reading it from the beaches of Goa. Keep the writing up. You guys are on my must to read blogs weekly. Cheers.”

From “D”

“Hey Girls, I unfortunately…have a lot in common with all of you and I think your take on the whole thing is hilarious. My FBF owns his own firm and the time we spend together is spent watching Jim Kramer or Bloomberg. I would like to know where you guys meet up? Best Wishes (the DOW going up)!”

And our personal favorite, from “Nancy” in D.C.

“On Tue, Dec 30, 2008 at 2:02 PM, “Jim” wrote:

Dear Nancy,

I regret to inform you that I will be cutting you out of my life completely in FY09. Having just reviewed my entertainment spending for the month of December, I discovered that, while I spent an exorbitant amount on alcohol throughout the month, I spent an exorbitant-er amount when you were in my company, and or involved in the evening in some way shape or form.

Please note, this is a decision I make with a heavy heart, but it is a necessity. I will be 30 years old in 2009′! The amount I am spending on Nancy-related-boozing would be better served in mutual funds, an IRA or put towards a down payment on a home. The unfortunate fact is, Nancy-related-memories don’t accrue interest. Nor are they easy to remember.

Please send all formal protests to my future progeny.

Thank you for your understanding in said matter and keep your chin up. Like all things, this too shall pass.”