My Husband Didn't Invite Me on Vacation
I didn't want to go to Florida. My husband didn't want me to go to Florida. Clearly, there wasn't a problem. We were both on the same page. There was only one, well, problem. I wanted to be invited. That was it. Easy peasy. Except it wasn't so easy, after all.
My Mother Stalked Tom Jones After a Concert
This is about the time my mother went to a Tom Jones concert with my aunt and one of her friends. My mother and my aunt wanted to go home to my father and my uncle, respectively. My aunt's friend had other ideas; she wanted to stalk Tom Jones around the city - and stalk him they did.
Here's the Problem with Sexting: It's a Lie
Sexting is a lie. Have you ever told a partner or love interest that you're wearing sexy lingerie when you aren't? Have you ever told a partner or love interest that you're sexually excited when you aren't? Have you ever told a partner or love interest that you're thinking of them when you aren't?
My Uncle Reported His Car Stolen From the Bar
My uncle reported his car stolen from the bar, but it was parked in his driveway when he got home. This is what happened. My aunt and uncle lived one block away from the home where I lived with my parents and older brother. Smack dab in the middle of the block was the bar where my uncle and many other neighborhood men liked to drink.
My Husband Went on Vacation Without Me
My husband went on vacation without me, and I spent the next week falling in love with another man. When my husband went on vacation without me, it was the straw that broke the camel's back. Of course, in this case, the camel was our marriage, and it was already bowed and limping, anyway.
Ask My Mother Why I Don't Want Kids
I was a good kid; I just wasn't an enjoyable kid. In short, I was not a child I'd want to parent, and I may have burned myself out on the idea of raising a child of my own altogether. Raise a child like me? No, thank you. I'd rather be more barren than the Sahara. I was exhausting.
To the Stretch Marks on My Breasts
I have a confession to make. My breasts remind me of watermelons. No, they aren't as heavy or as large as watermelons, well, maybe those mini watermelons that are roughly the size of a cantaloupe. My breasts remind me of watermelons because their stretch marks are reminiscent of the light green striations against the darker green color of a watermelon rind.