Joe and I despised each other when we first met. He thought I was a snobby bitch and I thought he was a condesceding asshole. From there grew the love.

We've all watched a lot of movies too...on that subject my secret security boyfriend de Becker is something of a buzzkill...he must REALLY hate Twilight, as he called Ben Braddock from "The Graduate" a stalker.ETA: de Becker has a point(as, honestly, when does he not?) but I still love TG anyway.

(Wait, did I ever thank you for the super-cute notepad and tray? I didn't, did I? Thank you, -t!)

Did I give you a super-cute notepad and tray? I don't remember, but that hardly means anything. You're welcome, if I did, and if I didn't, sorry for taking credit to whomever did!

I love the waist detail on the shirt people are getting. Good choice, y'all!

We've all watched a lot of movies too

And we want our lives to be like that, dammit. Well, except the part where I get eaten by a dinosaur.

Joe and I despised each other when we first met. He thought I was a snobby bitch and I thought he was a condesceding asshole. From there grew the love.

Pete and I have often said that it was a good thing we hadn't met each other like 5 years earlier, because we would have HATED each other.

P-C, what a PITA for you, about the necklace. I've got a ton of techniques for deflecting and/or not engaging with my clients when they are obsessing. If you want a few samples of things to say, email me.

About the latest potential wife, it might be worth meeting her again. Not every happy successful marriage that takes place at the time when both parties are ready for it start with an instant spark. Especially since you were not at your best when you met the woman, you might do well to give her a bit more of a look-see.

Yes... this is what I'm saying. Well, really, not the dinosaur thing, but the expectation thing. I wonder if I'm ever going to be old enough(or shipped enough, in whatever way,) that I don't, even half-consciously, expect a meet-cute when I go someplace new and bump someone with my chair or something. Rationally, I know that's happened a few times and it's no big thing, but that still has to fight it out, with, like, twenty-five years of rom-com "wisdom" even with the hippie mom and lefty politics and fish without bicycles.

Yeah, I could just lie my ass off, but I feel like that may come back to bite me in the ass...hey, wait, if I lie my ass off, there will be no ass to bite! Hm, this plan has merit...

What if you said, "I'm done talking about it." Then because you don't want to make yourself a liar, you just stop responding. Mom says, "Why Why WHY won't you obsess with me about the necklace?" you come back with, "It's time to talk about something else. How 'bout them Yankees? (or I saw the prettiest daisies at Trader Joe's the other day, etc. etc. yakkity shmakkity)"

Of course, considering one time when my mom was just rambling on and on and on without any regard to me at all, I put the phone down, and went to the bathroom without telling her, and when I got back she hadn't stopped yakking. I may not be the best person to learn from.

Of course, considering one time when my mom was just rambling on and on and on without any regard to me at all, I put the phone down, and went to the bathroom without telling her, and when I got back she hadn't stopped yakking.

I did that once! Except she was on a long diatribe about how I wasn't losing enough weight in my current exercise regime. I think that's when I stopped calling her every week.

In should-have-listened-to-my-inner-fuggirl news, there is virtually no chance that the purple satin wrap dress that just came in the mail will ever look like anything other than a bathrobe. A bathrobe that needs ironing. At least it was not expensive.