My Claim to Fame: Indecent Exposure

Every once in a while, when I’m bored and trying not to obsess over my text messages (or lack of lack of text messages, as it were), I like to take a look the “Site Stats” on my blog.  The stats tell me all sorts of interesting things about my “public,” ranging from how they…

My Discarded Men

So, whatever happened to the Norwegian?  I don’t know to be honest.  I’m already bored with the idea of “Reader’s Digest Mondays” (and it’s not even Monday!) but I realized that I do have a few loose ends to tie up. And so, getting back to the Norwegian.  We tried to get together after our…

Confessions of a Google Stalker

Having just written about the degradations of stalking my various love interests over the years, I would like to offer a slight clarification.  Stalking, as in staking out the campus gym or writing notes about the daily comings and goings of one’s better looking classmates, is degrading.  Not only are actions of this sort pathetic…

Darling? Seriously?

There comes a time in every relationship when it becomes advisable—even necessary—to commence the use of terms of endearment.  I’ve answered to everything from “darling” to “my little bhabaganoush” over the years (mainly because my boyfriend at the time enjoyed teasing me about my hatred of eggplant), and I’ve doled out several ingenious creations of…

To Disclose or Not to Disclose?

For our second date, the Man from Marshalls and I are going to an art gallery.  An actual art gallery!  It’s an opening reception, to be exact, and just in case that wasn’t cool enough, I know the artist.  She’s a co-worker, and I have a feeling that she invited me only because she invited…