Eric: “So my mom has a really good jeweler…”
Me: “My ring size is 7!”
Eric: “…who can fix that necklace you broke.”
Me: “Oh.”
Last night….

Fair. And true.
But this is exactly the kind of hazardous situation I find myself in when I linger in society past sundown– two young people were having a perfectly lovely first date and I interrupted it, arms flailing, screaming, “Little Michael?!?! Is that YOU?!?!?”
Zero chance he got laid after that.
I’m never leaving the couch again.
Sorry, Little Michael.
(For interrupting your date. And for calling you “Little Michael.” Last night and in this post. Also, sorry about this post).
(Part of the What is Love series)
Love is knowing when to say “I’m sorry.”
Roughy 10-15 minutes after he says it first.

Love is when you can comfortably express to him, in precise and vivid detail, exactly what this stomach bug is doing to your digestive tract.

(Part of the Sassy Pedicurist series)
Many people have been asking me what has happened to Sassy Pedicurist, as we haven’t heard from her in a while.
I’m not quite sure. I have had my nails done many times in the past several months, and she has not been at the salon. She used to be there almost every single time, and now she has virtually disappeared. It’s as though she sensed that I found a man, and now her work here is done.
I’m starting to question if she ever even existed.