Delilah drives me wild
Hello, my name is Caroline, and I am in love with my car … there I\’ve said it.
Hello, my name is Caroline, and I am in love with my car … there I\’ve said it.
Today I received the 50th e-mail from someone I vaguely know, someone who isn\’t spam, but is spam of a different sort. \”You are invited to join LinkedIn.\”
I went on what was arguably the worst date ever. Thank God, it was neither tragic nor violent, but in the category of terribly disappointing, it was the worst.
It\’s the season to be sorry. It\’s that time of year when we go over all of our deeds, things we have done to others, to God, to ourselves and ask for forgiveness — and grant it to those who need it from us.
As singles, trying on different slippers and hoping for a perfect fit, we have assayed to squeeze ourselves into many an improper shoe during the past year, blistering ourselves and others in the process, becoming callused as we try to move our lives forward.
Is \”living by your wits\” the same thing as \”witty\”?
Having now completed my unsuccessful world tour of bars, parties and weddings, I\’m looking for new ways to meet new men.
The weird thing about mixed seating in synagogue is that sometimes couples are all over each other. Inappropriate during prayer time for sure, but somewhat more distracting when one half of that couple happens to be a guy you once dated.
The mantra had jump-started the two-day workshop for women titled \”Celebrating Men, Satisfying Women,\” which I attended not long ago at a conference room in a hotel near LAX. The program was created by a woman named Allison Armstrong, a self-professed expert on men, and it promised to foster better communication, understanding and respect between the sexes.
We all remember the buddy system from grade school. When you\’d go to the ocean, you\’d have a buddy. When you\’d go to the museum, you\’d have a buddy. And now that you\’re old enough to hit the bar scene, you should still have a buddy.