The Rest of the Story with Date #7

It’s been exactly one week since Date #7 walked me to my car, wrapped his arms around me and told me—for the umpteenth time—that I was making a terrible mistake.  As such, I suppose it’s about time for me to finally stop dragging my mud-caked heals over the chronicling of his brother’s wedding and get…

Why I’m NOT Buying Sexy Underwear

So I’m trying to be more honest with myself and this entails being more honest with all of you.  Oddly enough, I find it easier to be honest on the internet than I do in my personal interactions (which, come to think of it isn’t all that odd at all—the internet fosters a certain sense…

It’s all Relative, Except when its NOT!

I’m chatting with my friend Ove from Norway about Date #7 (the man from across the state who I’ve never actually met) when he asks the obvious question: Why don’t you just drive out to wherever it is that he lives and meet him? Well, this may be an obvious question for a Norwegian (you…

Close Encounters of the AWKWARD Kind

It was bound to happen sooner or later.  In a city the size of Philadelphia, there are only so many single men, so many bartenders and so many routes one can take from Old City to South Philly.  This is the problem with dating locally— or perhaps with serial dating, come to think of it. …

Remember Date #7? Well…

In preparing for (and recovering from) my 50th date, I neglected to mention that I’ve met the man of my dreams.  (And no, my 50th date did not involve said man, because that would be entirely too simple). He’s intelligent, artistic, humorous on occasion, “deep” enough to indulge my philosophical tendencies, sexy, and—thank goodness!— taller…

My Worst Valentine’s Day Ever, Part 1

Pour yourself a cup of coffee and, if it’s after noon in your country, add a shot of your favorite adult beverage because it’s time for a pity party. As promised, I’ve compiled my worst Valentine’s Day stories ever for your viewing pleasure this weekend.  Today I present the first of my top three. Valentine’s…

Of Snowflakes and Stalking

To celebrate Wednesday’s snow day (and reward myself for having shoveled the entire sidewalk and driveway), I decided to be truly decadent.  First, I rummaged through my mother’s closet for a dress to wear with my new tights, then I went to the bank to deposit this week’s paychecks and finally, I trudged up the…