My husband celebrated his 50th birthday last week.
On Thursday night, I threw him a surprise happy hour at one of our favorite local bars. People from all different parts of his life just kept walking through the doors.
Unexpectedly. And he felt tremendously loved.
Which is how I wanted him to feel.
If you and I were out to dinner, and I repeatedly kicked you under the table with my clunky hard wedges, what would you think I was doing?
Sometimes, I worry about sex. Yes, me. I know, it’s odd. Right? I mean, I’ve written about sex a lot. I’ve reviewed multitudes of sex toys. I’ve even used the term “anal” here a few times. (Gasp!) But here are two of my worries. One, I worry that I don’t put out enough. Sure, hubs...
I’ve had a long President’s Day weekend of being by myself for extended periods of time. And I’ve really enjoyed it. (Probably more than I should have.) But today it’s all coming to an end. My husband is back from his ski trip. The kids will be coming back from their dad’s house. And life...
I was a junior in college. He was a freshman. And he was my first real boyfriend.
(I know. I was a cougar, right? Ahead of my time.)
And he took my virginity.
It seemed like a good idea.
A quick trip to Las Vegas to start 2013 off right.
My kids were going to NYC with their dad. My stepdaughter would be with her mom.