Three years ago I dated a pilot, a doctor doctor, a musician and a researcher.
Maybe at the same time.
Two and a half years ago, I met a bartender. He told me about his novel.
I didn’t stand a chance.
Two years ago, I suggested that the bartender and I break up, because I realized I loved him.
Alcohol may have been involved.
One and a half years ago I moved in with the bartender, who then became a school teacher.
Almost a year ago, we celebrated our first Valentine’s Day; complete with homemade cards stating how much we hated it.
Half a year ago I revealed to the school teacher my biggest guilty pleasure, the reality (and makeover!) show, The Biggest Loser.
Now he watches it with me every Tuesday.
Don’t tell him I said that.
And this week,
