She Said Archives:
So there’s this guy… I’ve known him for years, and to put it bluntly, he was a booty call. A sporadic booty call at best, but a booty call nonetheless. And now, he’s a booty call no more, he’s not even a friend. Recently I got a call from a friend — well, I would
My date canceled at 2pm – for tonight. And I was overjoyed. I know I should have been disappointed, that I should have been looking forward to this date all week because he’s been so interested in me. Nope, I was overjoyed. I no longer was filled with my Saturday afternoon dread of the evening
There’s definitely something wrong with me. I mean, there is something really, really wrong with me. I had date number 4 last night with a great guy – one who opens doors, holds my arm crossing the street, looks at me with googly eyes and thinks I have a great ass. I mean, come on…
I saw the love of my life today. It never fails… for almost 20 years I have loved this man and he somehow knows just the time to show up and turn my world upside down. Usually it’s when my world is upside down. First, the phone call: “I’ve been feeling like you aren’t okay.”
I have a blind date tonight. I should be really excited about it. We’ve talked on the phone a few times, emailed a few times and have seen pictures of each other. He’s cute. He’s really cute. He’s also smart, and funny, and quick-witted, just how I like them. I should be really excited. But
For some reason, I seem to meet a lot of guys at the airport. I have had more dalliances with men traveling across the country than in my own hometown. And every time it happens, I chalk it up to a fluke encounter. But is it? Case in point, yesterday. I had the travel day
So, you know Mr. Out-of-State Booty Call? The one who just came to visit and made me his wing-man? The one who used me as his hotel, his driver, his drinking buddy and then proceeded to hit on everything that moved? I’m currently sitting in an office roughly 5 miles from him. We’ve established that he
I told myself the last time that I wouldn’t let it happen again. The effort was there, as was the determination, but before I knew it, it was happening and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. In a matter of mere moments, I once again went from date — to wing man. It
I got a booty call Saturday night. A booty phone call, that is. I guess it would have been a knock at my door, but the caller happens to live clear across the country. A booty call, by definition (yes I looked it up) is: A telephone call, usually the sole purpose of which is
