Hot and Cold and Oh-So-Predictable
For today’s post, I am indebted, once again, to Kate of Kate Ferguson Writes. She’s an English teacher and even though we’ve never met, her comments…
The Trouble with Men (and Smartphones)
I like the middle-of-nowhere, I really do, but upon finding myself stuck in the middle-of-nowhere with neither internet access nor decent cell phone coverage for the…
Two Men, One Martini Bar
It’s not as bad as it sounds, although I suppose any woman who accidentally invites two men to Thanksgiving dinner ought to provide some sort of…
Beaujolais or Bachata?
It’s four o’clock in the afternoon. The Wedding Date and I are seated on the couch in his living room and despite the fact that our…
Friday with The Wedding Date
I’d forgotten what a pain in the butt it can be to prepare for a picnic when you live in the city and don’t own a…
The View from the Top
It has been brought to my attention that I missed yesterday’s post. Whoops! Here’s a quick hint as to what I’ve been up to: More on…
Ain’t No Teddy Bears on This Picnic
Sushi it is. And bread. And cheese (three varieties to be exact. I got to Whole Foods and just couldn’t control myself). And prosciutto (he is…
Man Cannot Live by Bread Alone… or can he?
Tomorrow’s date will comprise the third picnic of my Great Date Experiment. Despite my evident experience with all things al fresco, I’m in a bit of…
T-Minus 4 Days… If I Live to Tell
Today is Monday, which means I’ll be seeing the Wedding Date in just four days if I don’t kill myself this afternoon. It’s not that I’m…
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…
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…
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…
Kat Echevarría Richter 