Trying to tell Kristina you’d rather stay in for the evening then dawn your heels and snug Jean Paul Damage is like telling Bush you don’t think we should go to war.

Gaspy breath. “Why? Ha. Ha. Girl you crack me up. My phone battery is dying. I’ll see you soon.”

On my particularly stubborn nights I drive the point home with, “Tomorrow I HAVE to and I CAN’T afford to….”

She delays. When she does respond, it’s as though she’s just accepted she’ll have to do without her left arm for the evening.

One truly can hear the sadness in her voice.

“Oh. It’d be more fun with you. But…I understand.”

Yesterday drained me and frankly, I didn’t want to do the dance.

Dating was the topic of the evening. A member of the group wanted to know what she should give the man she’s been dating four months for Valentines Day. Cologne, a shirt, a photo and poem, she doesn’t cook so that’s out, those all seem so obvious. Your original suggestions appreciated here.

The conversation drifted into dating and fun. Here’s the thing about dating that Kristina put so humorously and insightful. The majority of the women in our group have never had a bad date. The conversation tends to flow and laughter in sues. We can enjoy ourselves anywhere….well practically. We’re all very rainbows and butterflies with an 86′d side of grey. I was bent over laughing in convulsions as Jackie relayed her message,

“I was going on all these dates and having a blast. They were so much fun. After a while the guys would just go away. I’d get all depressed and sad. Then I realized it wasn’t them. They weren’t the one’s who were fun it was me. All I needed to have fun was me. Without me there is no fun.”

How true that is Kristina. Thank-you for being you and making the fight fun.