Lina (that’s Caroline) is not the only one to post. She may the aspiring writer of the trio, but I’m the most talkative. 

Speaking of talking, The Great Ex called and emailed me today. Both went along the lines of, “hey, wanna get a drink? I miss talking to you. I miss the smell of your skin.” A few things I won’t mention until later. Blah, blah, blah. Good thing I was able to distract myself (for the most part) with work. Working for one of the biggest art galleries on the East Coast has it perks. I get to meet all the great artists of our time, but I also get to run around in a pencil skirt and heels trying to figure out where a damn 14 foot painting disppeared to.

Now as I type this I wonder whether need to be spilling my guts to the public. I am watching my current beau, a pianist by the name of Edward, sleep soundly. Should I tell him about The Ex or not and hope IT leaves me alone in my successful happiness… lmao! As if that could ever happen.

I know she had to blab about our bonding moment in bed last night. Folks, never drink more than 3 glasses of wine on a school night. It throws off the balance. Also, never go to sleep with 2-inch stilleto boots on. (Thanks Bella for the stab wound by the way, it goes great with the bruise I got when Lina elbowed me in the chest.- Edward thinks my friends are abusing me now.)

I like blogging… I can jump topics as much as I want ‘cuz I don’t really care what you people think of my random thought processes. Edward and I had the talk over dinner (which he cooked-that’s MY man). We’ve been dating for 6 moths now, living together for 3 of those. It seems fast, but we’ve known each other for years. I noticed he wanted to talk, get something off his mind, because he was rubbing his shaved head. He got up and as he refilled our wineglasses (Mmmm, white wine), he blurted out, “I want to get married.”

 I choked on a piece of garlic bread. Edward was raised Catholic, but seeing as his parents died when he was a teenager, he never felt the pressure of keeping with his faith. “Is your brother berating you again?” His brother is a devout Catholic with a nice, pretty Catholic wife, a house in the swanky district, and 2.4 kids.

He frowned. “No, I actually haven’t talked to Joseph in days. I’ve just been thinking with my new job” (at a record company- he is an accountant with taste and skills) “that I want to move forward in my personal life as well.”

I stared at him. “Who are you and where is my boyfriend? ‘Cause with all your talk of marriage and that new job…”

He took offense to this of course and stormed out of the kitchen. “Why would you say something like that?”

I followed and threw my hands into the air. “You went to school to be an accountant. When you decided you hated that, you started playing the piano in clubs and for events. Now, you play in your spare time and you do something you said you hated. Tickle me puzzled.”

He laughed at my favorite phrase. “I’m growing up, deciding who I want to be. I’m doing something I should have done back in college.”

We spent the rest of the evening finishing off the bottle of wine and indulging in a little make-up sex. Yeah, it wasn’t really a fight, but with his calm, easy-going nature and my aversion to conflict, it was a big deal.