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men’s health magazine contacted me last week. apparently, slc ranks #2 in cities where a woman over the age of 35 can find a man. seriously. i thought it must be a mistake, but guess not.

to read the article in it’s entirety go here, if you’re lazy and only want to read my contribution go here. either way go read it, if you need an extra incentive there’s pictures of chesty women!

the magazine’s editor-in-chief will be on oprah today discussing it. i’ve never seen an episode of oprah, but this was worth setting my tivo. i swear, i’ve never seen her show, but i have seen three episodes of american idol. i’m not proud.

tonight the yuppie sent me a message saying he was tired. my reply was, “maybe dating me really is exhausting.” his response, “is that a typo? do you mean exhilarating?”

i’ve never taken criticism well–it hurts. i blame my childhood piano teacher. when i couldn’t get the rhythm right she used to pound it on my back as i played. in her defense, i’m sure she thought she was lightly tapping, but remember i’m a giant wuss.

now, 25 years later nothing has changed–i still don’t handle critical comments well, which is sad since i can sure hand them out. i know perfectly well what my faults are, and most days i’ll admit to them.

so last night when the yuppie called me dramatic it stung. why? because it’s true. i get whiny when i’m tired. rewind–i get whinier when i’m tired. so the fact that it was well past my bedtime when this was said did not help. so, in the span of one evening i was overly-sensitive, whiny and dramatic. awesome.

how to woo sarah:
how to be endearing:
ask for the vase to be returned, as it was borrowed from a friend.

the man i’ve been seeing tried to kill me last night. twice. though, if you ask him i’m sure he’d tell a slightly different version of the story.

first of all, his giant dog tried to kill me. (which i’m positive he trained her to do beforehand.) luckily, i’m not afraid of a dog almost my height knocking me over. the steep driveway, however, is another story. everyone knows i’m a giant klutz. now, looking at my hands i see three cuts just on my left hand, from who knows what. i’m always bumping into things, falling down stairs and generally getting hurt because i don’t pay attention. he forced me down that driveway without so much as an offer to have a princess ski lift built in.

he’s very lucky i’m not dead.