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It’s been a few weeks since I moved in with TNG, and I hope I can say the worst is behind us. We’ve argued, I’ve cried, he’s hid, I’ve packed a bag (and then put it away), we’ve argued some more, I’ve cried some more… and now we finally seem to be getting into a
B-O-R-I-N-G. I’m happy for you… I really am. As close friend, writing partner and one of your biggest fans, true happiness is all I’ve ever wanted for you. Maybe you’ve (finally) found it. Maybe baking banana bread while folding laundry and debating the merits of shampooing the living room carpet is a hidden nirvana for
I want to go home. But… I am home. I moved in with The New Guy last week – and I’ve literally cried every single day since. If someone had told me that with each passing year I spent alone, living with someone would be that much more difficult, I probably wouldn’t have listened, but
I know a couple from high school that stayed together for 19 years before they got married… the marriage lasted eleven months. Two of my oldest and closest friends have been a legitimately happy, married couple for almost 25 years… They knew each other a grand total of nine weeks before they tied the knot.
Last weekend my best girlfriends came over for one last girls’ sleepover before I moved in with The New Guy. We’ve been doing this sleepover for years; every spring for my birthday, and usually once in the fall when school started for their kids. Nothing fancy, they’d just come over to my place and spend
Do you know what’s sexy? Well, a lot of things, but definitely one thing in particular is a group of otherwise responsible and committed women, beyond velvet rope age, at the bar or lounge of a respectable establishment with a twinkle in each eye and a martini in each hand. You know me. You know
Since I’m moving in a week, haven’t packed up my apartment and have more deadlines than I’ve had this whole year, TNG thought it was a perfect time to take our first trip together to visit the family. Being my new and improved easy-going self (yeah right), I agreed to go. I ignored the voices
Much of the time our blog consists of an event, large or small from your life, followed by my slightly-off-center male point of view in reply. For a man, I think I’m pretty respectful of your gender. For a man, as brutally honest as I can be, I think I also cut your gender a
I’m not one to quote Dr. Phil-isms, but besides, “You teach people how to treat you,” my favorite saying of his has always been, “You have to go out and look for him… He’s not going to knock on your front door or land on the hood of your car.” Thus, my “If You Build
For what it’s worth (and if you’re smart, that will be “not much”) I am extremely impressed. You’re in love. You’re engaged. You’re willfully getting married. This is all good stuff, the best stuff to most of us. Still, you’re not dead… you’re not even dormant. You know what you are? You’re a dude. You’re one
