a_sooner_girl's profile

What if the sexy, sophisticated, Carrie Bradshaw were not so sophisticated? What if she was a clueless thirty-something thrown back into the murky waters of the dating pool after the end of an eight-year relationship? What if this real-live person’s life was a little less Sex and the City, and a lot more sitcom? If you can imagine this, then you know what the concept is for my book All I Want for Christmas is A Real Good Man. All I Want for Christmas is A Real Good Man chronicles my dating ex...

Chapter One It was hotter than hell and the damn mosquitoes were like demons from the fire itself. Sydney sat in the back courtyard, smoking a cigarette, ears turned to the small monitor for the slightest sound of movement from the bedroom. She exhaled a stream of smoke, half expecting the smoke to be absorbed by the clinging, inescapable humidity. The bayou was silent tonight. Everything was silent. Silent enough to give one the chills if one was superstitious enough. She wasn’t. But maybe ...

Yesterday was Sunday. A very beautiful Easter Sunday. I was able to spend some time at Corey and Christy’s. Ate some delicious barbeque and talked about dancing. We talked about my earlier blog, the blog where I described my anxiety about dancing. I said I needed to to do something to distract my dance partner away from my two left feet and complete lack of rhythm. Our plan? Cleavage. Dazzle him with cleavage and he’ll never feel the pain in his toes. Hmmmmm.... Sounded good in theory. So, I ...

Ahhhh...I’m sitting here, enjoying a beautiful spring morning, drinking my favorite coffee. It’s a great start to the weekend. And I’ve been dying to write this blog since yesterday afternoon. :) Yesterday, I was fiddling with my computer, for some reason it wouldn’t connect to the internet, I could log onto Yahoo Messenger and MySpace Messenger, but not the internet. While I was trying to figure all this out, a message window popped up. I’d talked to this guy a few times before, so I started...

………………………………........................................................................ I groaned inwardly as the guy across from me droned on and on. I stifled a yawn as he started story number twelve about why his relationships haven’t worked out. Maybe if he’d stop talking and actually listen, he might have better luck. And maybe, just maybe, if he’d not tell EVERYTHING on the first date, he’d have better luck too. How does this happen to me? How do I have the absolute worst dates? I let him...