help-blog

As we all know, it’s the smallest things that can sometimes become an issue in a relationship. Here's mine: I prefer he sleeps at my place. And it's not because I’m lazy and don’t want to drive the 40 minutes to his house. (Okay, I am a little lazy.) My issue with him has nothing to do with his love for his La-Z-Boy chair (surprisingly extremely comfortable!) and my love for contemporary furniture (These two trains shall never meet.) No, it has to do with his sheets. You know, bed sheets.

I’m still traumatized by garage sales from when I was a child and my parents would make us help out with their garage sales. I’d be like, “You can have that for five cents!” And my Dad would be like, “What are you doing? That’s worth at least $2.00!” Plus, the lugging the stuff out and then lugging it back in. It’s no fun to host a garage sale. But, now, it turns out my new favorite pastime on weekends is to hit garage sales. This is because my daughter loves them. So, yes, I’m now one of those people — just driving my daughter around and she’ll suddenly screech, “Stop! A garage sale!” So we’ll stop.

I’ve really started to love and enjoy giving toasts. Even when I go out with my boyfriend for dinner, I will make a toast over a glass of wine to him/us. Okay, I admit, I usually borrow lines from my yoga teachers like, “May we have peace in our minds and love in our hearts.” (Yoga teachers have the best lines!)

I like designer bags but I don’t necessarily like baggage. Not the “ex” kind of baggage. At my age, it’s more likely than not that anyone I would date/end up with has baggage. It's a term I don’t like because when you find the right guy, his baggage doesn’t seem so much like “baggage” as it does a “pretty package.”

I recently spent the afternoon at a friend’s house listening to her talk about her relationship. She definitely needed a pep talk.