Since the first memory of a child I can recall.. I have always been boy crazy.
From falling in love with my favorite TV super hero to knowing the man that worked with my dad was my future husband. (Keeping in mind I was about 5 at this time).
Boys have always been something that revolved around my brain. Until about a year and a half ago... when I had the most traumatic heartache of my life at 26. Eight dramatic years of loving the same unreliable, but fun guy and he up and decided to marry someone else without officially breaking up with me first. I will tell you that story later.
Not only was I shattered but the thought of love, marriage, babies... made me sick. Literally sick... like find the nearest trashcan because I was about to share the 10 cupcakes and vanilla latte I had consumed over the last week with it.
From that point to now I have experienced a comical amount of failed dates, hookups, and well very very short relationships... (depending on what your definition of relationships is.)
I even have a few of my single best friends failed attempts as well. We decided last weekend ... maybe WE just aren't marriage material.
I have been kind enough alter the names.. or chicken enough, however you would like to look at it.
Most of these stories ended with either a cup of coffee, whiskey, or both.