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…
Finally: Our First Dance
The good thing about finding yourself at a wedding reception with muddy feet, wet clothes and a date who doesn’t particularly care for your well being…
A Case of the Dropsies (Part 1)
It’s 7:00pm, Saturday night. I’ve survived the rehearsal dinner, the ceremony, the cocktail hour and the requisite introductions to Date #7’s relatives, including the uncle who…
Mistaken Identity at the Cocktail Hour
A word of advice to all the men out there: if you’re going to date one woman while you’re quasi-dating another, and you choose to invite…
The (art of avoiding the) Heart of the Matter
So there I am, inadvertently abandoned by my “wedding BFF,” left to fend for myself amongst Date #7’s cousins and wondering, as every woman must wonder…
Of High Heels and Mudslides (and no, I’m not talking about the drink)
There’s been a lot of concern over my well being during the wedding—not from my own date, mind you (he is, after all, the one who…
(Thank Goodness for) The Rehearsal Dinner
Rest assured: I will not be tying the knot at Tyler Arboretum. But before we get to Date #7’s brother’s wedding and my near death-by-exposure, shrapnel,…
Men…
So you know how I’m supposed to go to that wedding today? That formal wedding? The wedding for which I’ve been trying on gowns all week?…
A Potential Faux Pas of Epic Proportions
Did I mention that tomorrow’s wedding is black tie? Well, it is. At least Date #7 thinks it is. I’m planning to bring a change of…
Of Pandas and Pigeons, or How to Bag a Brit
It’s that time again: time for me to quit whining about my love life and let someone else take center stage while I continue fretting over…
The Rehearsal Dinner Too?
Date #7 wants me to go to the rehearsal dinner for his brother’s wedding. Under ordinary circumstances, this would be cause for celebration: a man I…
“31 Dates in 31 Days” by Tamara Duricka Johnson
In case you were wondering, the Starbucks salted caramel mocha tastes neither of salt nor of caramel (until you the get the last inch and a…
Kat Echevarría Richter 