Author. Speaker. Recovering Narcissist.
His name was Duke. A delicious, twenty-something tall drink of London with dirty blonde hair, emerald eyes and sun-kissed abs. I usually dug the Mario’s and Antonio’s of the world, but with Duke, I made an exception. He was the precursor to David Beckham, only without the tanorexic Spice wife, four kids and bank roll. … Continue reading Jellyfish
On the heels of Saturday's post, let's talk. Something made me hang on to that tattered cocktail napkin for 22 years. Something inside my spirit believed in what Dan saw. Just like something stopped me dead in my tracks, on what was to be my last night on the stripper pole at the age of … Continue reading More than a feeling
As we circled the block in search of parking close to the restaurant, my eyes honed in on it - a fabulous sign that would dictate the course of our evening, unbeknownst to Todd. He was too busy paying attention to any open pockets of asphalt, to understand my laughing out loud moment after reading … Continue reading So this ex-stripper, and a gay dude walk in to a bar…
Christine Macdonald 