So, this has not exactly been my summer of blazing romance…
Here’s my latest experience in the disconcerting dating scene. Perhaps you should grab a drink before reading – I had to!

On holidays in Northern Cosmopolitan City, my parents and I went into the nearest town for dinner. On the way, we had to stop at the grocery store to grab some grub for later in the week. While picking peas in the pod outside, I felt someone watching me. I turned around to find a nice-looking older man (I’m fixated on fossils!) checking me out. Grocery store pick ups are difficult to navigate, but I felt it might happen. As I walked into the store, he followed me in and casually looked around everywhere I went. I was flattered. I was feeling it! While standing at the cash with my mother, the vainglorious vixen also known as June Cleaver Blogshaw, I pointed out the philandering silver fox. June’s reaction: “Oh, I thought he was checking me out…” Um, no.

“You know, Carrie, it doesn’t get any easier to meet men as you get older.”
~ June Cleaver Blogshaw, 2002

Yes, another famous quote from my mother. And yes, again, she was right.

This weekend, my sexy single partner in crime, Mademoiselle, and I went out on the town. After a divine dinner, we went to a bar for some drinks and dancing. In the lineup, we met a duo of dudes and started chatting. Mademoiselle had her eye on one and I, therefore, ended up stuck with The Friend (known as such because I am now so old and deaf that I can’t hear over loud music…). After trying many different strategies to relieve myself of The Friend (including ignoring him, dancing with other guys and at one sad point, running away), I started downing drinks like a champ. Like I used to.. When I was younger…

Free as a snowbird, I have traveled all the way to Sunny Southern State to enjoy a relaxing vacation. With my parents.. On a golf course… Okay, so it’s not exactly South Beach, but Shady Pines has it’s pluses.
I had only been here a day when I noticed that my parents, Ward and June Cleaver-Blogshaw, had given each other Valentines Day cards. So sweet. Or so I thought. I innocently took the time to read the cards, which were displayed on the kitchen counter (no, I wasn’t rummaging through their dresser drawers… that was the next day).

I was 26 years old when I broke up with my boyfriend,The Alcoholic Workaholic, who I had been seeing for 7 years. My mother was devastated. I clearly remember her sage advice at the time: “You know, Carrie, it gets harder to meet people as you get older”. She was right.

Obviously, this has to do with my mother, the incorrigible June Cleaver Blogshaw. As many of you have requested more stories about her antics, here you go.