I don't need to read any chick-lit novels. My life is a chick-lit in progress.
Case in point: tonight I went down to Newport Beach with one of my best good friends, Kristin (Codename Kissyfur). We go to a swanky little restaurant at the harbor, and we're nursing our drinks along. Being fabulous, I guess (for the sake of the story we will pretend that I have not only defined fabulousness, but have also achieved it). Talking about love and relationships. Here's an excerpt from our conversation:
Me: My longest relationship was two and a half years.
Kristin: I've never had a relationship that lasted longer than a year and a half. Does that make me a commitment-phobe?
Me: No, it makes you a failure.
(Yeah, like I'm one to talk).
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