Right now a multitude of Jell-O shots are solidifying and champagne is chilling across the globe. My New Year’s Eve preparations are all done. This is it folks: My entertainment for the evening is all sorted: But Don’t Cry for Me Argentina. I have a great date for the evening. He’s wise and … More Pajamas and Shrimp: My 2016 Single Girl NYE
“Aren’t I just so much fun,” he asks again as his lips curl in self-derision. There’s been a lot of that kind of sneering this evening and this is the third time he’s made the same self-deprecating comment. Inner monologue time. No Dude. You really aren’t. But I’m wearing underwire for these double D’s … More Drinks and Other Things with Narcoleptic Nate
On a good day I have my morning hustle down to a pat 30 minutes from feet on the floor to keys in the ignition. The Type A in me prepares everything the night before so the not such a morning person, more likely to grunt than talk before coffee me has no idea what … More Single Girl Home Owning: Sewage Edition (AKA How I Spent an Evening with Plumber Jim)
I didn’t know you could buy a pregnancy test on sale. Huh. You can even earn CVS Extra Care Bucks. Apparently it’s a lucky day for my budget. Maybe not so much the muted panic that’s risen every day my stubborn uterus refuses to shed her lining. She’s a part of me so I guess … More + or -? It’s Not Just for Ions!
The do-re-me warm up is over, and given that the flight has flown mostly to my liver by now, I don’t feel like leaning in to shout over an accordion of all things (Rhineland DNA be damned!). I agree to move the date past drinks to dinner. Be open. I suggest a place within walking … More Viking Sings the Blues: Part 2 (Ginger takes the mic)
I knew a first date on my birthday was risky but I had never dated a Ginger Viking before. The evening had the potential to be epic. OR. Or it could be an utter disaster that I would kick myself for attempting when I could have been enjoying the typical capstone of Single Girl Birthday … More Viking Sings the Blues: Part 1 (the do-re-me warm-up)
There was a man in my bedroom this morning. It’s not what you think. He had his head up my crawl space. Wait. It’s still not what you think. Stop with the *nudge nudge wink wink*. Get out of the gutter my friends. Join me up here on the roof instead where the wind came … More Ladies Night at the Shingles Bar
Dear Gentlemen of the Internet Dating Universe, You are not Casper. You are not a ghost, friendly or otherwise. You cannot walk through walls and disappear. Please stop. The latest of your ilk exchanged a frenzied 568 text messages over a three day period with actual plans made to meet in a week’s time. … More Don’t Be a Casper
I grew up eating government cheese and wearing Dollar General jelly shoes that gave me bleeding blisters. When I was very young we raised pigs to slaughter and stored homegrown root vegetables next to the coal in the basement to make it through the winter. We were sustainable chic before it was hipster. When you’re … More Bubbles and Budgets
If I could Match.Com me a perfect doesn’t-have-to-talk companion his name would be Sven and he would be a 6’4” Swedish masseuse. Instead I’m following a tiny Russian woman to a suspect back room to get mostly naked and shell out the equivalent of a Tiny House Nation mortgage for a professional rubdown. I hope. … More Russian Rubdown
Sleeping on the Diagonal 