I had never dated a carrot top until my excursion with the Ginger Viking awhile back but somehow in the first half of 2017 I morphed into the proverbial flame for the red-headed OKC moth. There must have been a bit of an accelerate on the ignition because I flickered bright enough to spend the … More Ginger Snaps Part One: Mix in the Brown Sugar and Spices
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
Tinderbox He is crackling heat behind blue eyes and furrowed brow, a tinderbox waiting to ignite. I want him to gather my hair tress by tress, sweetly lull, and yank to expose crook where shoulder meets neck. I want him to have me pinned to kitchen counter, held by hair wrenched tight and … More Tinderbox (Disclaimer: Verse in the Key of Explicit)
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!
There’s a hand on my hip. It traces down outer thigh and dances back. The hazy, barely there morning filters in through a naked window, through an eyelid cracked open by the hand’s journey. It grazes over crest of hip. Skims small of back. Traces a map around ribcage and up, plucking a nipple to … More Dawning (A 5 AM Vignette)
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
Sleeping on the Diagonal 