I should join movie popcorn addicts anonymous.

I love going to the movies. I can't think of a better or less toxic form of escapism, or at least, one that I love more than a big dark theatre with booming speakers, beautiful people and a great story with smashing dialogue, mach 3 car chases, or spectacular special effects. 

One of my favourite things about going to the movies is the. popcorn. With real butter. And yes, I know how bad it is for you, but that doesn't change the fact that going to the movies and NOT having popcorn is the 8th Deadly Sin.

I recently went to the movies and got charged twice after asking for layered butter, which irked me. And since I had spare time on my hands, and feel so strongly about the issue, I wrote the following letter to everyone and their mother at this cinema* and their head office.

Some people might call me a lunatic. 

I prefer to be known as passionate about movie popcorn.

Don't judge me.

Have an awesome day!
xoxox
Jenn

*all company names and dates changed

*Also, I call Kwesi my husband, because boyfriend seemed juvenile to me. No, we aren't married, and have no plans to marry in the near future.

Good afternoon,

As a frequent movie goer, I have never encountered an issue such as this before, and wanted not only to clarify for possible future trips, but also to obtain your feedback.

I recently visited your 123 ABC Street location in Ottawa Timbuktu with my husband to watch a movie, which began at 6:30.

$12.00 x 2 for entrance to the film = $24.00

We generally visit our local theatres an average of 1 - 2 times per month, sometimes with our son, sometimes on our own, or with friends. Despite feeling it is expensive, I enjoy the entertainment, and have since I was a small child.

Once we had our tickets in hand, we went to the snack counter. While my husband prefers to bring snacks in to the theatre, this isn't something I have ever been keen on, preferring instead to purchase the (let's call a spade a spade) insanely over priced popcorn. I also choose to upgrade my topping to real butter, and always request that it be layered halfway through the bag, so that I can avoid excessively dry popcorn mid-movie.

Our snack bar purchase consisted of: $13.69 for 1 combo that included a regular drink, regular popcorn and bag of candy.

$5.79 for 1 additional bag of popcorn for my husband, because no matter how much I love him, I hate sharing popcorn.

$0.79 x 2 for upgrades to real butter = $1.58

Once the young man at the register gave me my total of close to $26.00 I questioned him how he got that amount. He replied by reminding me that I had paid to upgrade to real butter. Of course!!! Butter!!! But $3.16 as my total for butter?

Man alive! I could buy a 1lb brick of butter for $3.79 at Costco for God's sakes!

And funny enough, that isn't even what my issue is, because as I stated previously, I am aware of the upgrade cost, and I always choose to pay it anyways. (As far as I am concerned, if you're going to eat fake butter, you may as well eat the container it comes in.)

My issue is that the young man serving us charged me twice because I asked him to layer the butter, which leads me to my questions: Is this standard practice at all your locations or is this a new policy?

I go to a number of cinema locations in Ottawa Timbuktu, as well as when I am on vacation throughout Canada and the U.S. Always paying for real butter, always asking for it to be layered through the popcorn. Never once have I ever been charged twice.

When I asked why I was being charged twice, and challenged him on the surprise extra charge, another employee (possibly a 12-year old manager?) came by. It was then explained that "5 squirts of butter" is what constitutes the charge of $0.79. 

Presumably, during the research and development process, you have chosen 5 shots to be adequate, so as not to saturate the popcorn. Fair enough. But to charge two times for one bag? Is the bottom line more important to you than irritating your guests and further inflating the cost of an already expensive enough night out? Is the cost of 10 shots of butter, on $0.20 worth of popcorn seeds that I am paying $5.79 for, really justified?

If this is indeed your policy, and it is one that I can expect to be presented with each time I visit your theatres, then the easiest and obvious solution will be to simply concentrate my loyalties with your competitor locations, of course.

I look forward to hearing back from you to clarify this policy.

I also leave you with this link, which highlights excellent feedback and customer service, by just giving a little bit extra back.

http://www.giveemthepickle.com/pickle_principle.htm

Thank you,Jennifer Bennett

So clean I had to take pictures.

This is where I live. My home. 

My beautiful sanctuary in the sky.

800 sq feet. 1 bedroom. 

Walk-in closet. Big windows. Small balcony. Pull out couch for guests.

More often than not, it smells like fresh baked banana bread.

The people in my building are spectacularly kind and polite.

I am within walking distance of countless amenities: Farmboy, Metro, Future Shop, Best Buy, Winners, soon-to-be-Target, Running Room, restaurants, bus stops, Hunt Club Rd, pubs, fast food, Goodlife Fitness.

In order for Kwesi and I to live together, I need

to rent my place out.

Ideally to someone who is on contract in Ottawa for 2-3 years and who needs a fully functional place to live - dishes, pots, pans, furniture, television, washer/dryer, indoor heated parking, indoor pool/sauna/hot tub, small gym...the whole nine yards. 

Perhaps someone on I.R with the military?

Know of anyone?

P.S. Please pass this on.

The couch pulls out for guests!

25 Random things about me...

1. I am 5'10" tall. For this, I am ever-so-thankful. 

2. Somehow because I am tall, people feel they have the right to tell me that I "carry my weight well". Ummmm.......wtf does that even mean? Does it mean "You're fat. Thank God you're tall!"?? Not sure. But it rarely feels like a compliment. 
Dear people, 
Please don't say things like that. 
Thank you,
From all the chubby girls everywhere.

3. I am addicted to Shellac/Gelish nail polish. Without it, my nails are horrendously weak.

4. When I brush my teeth in the morning, I always brush them twice. As in...rinse, spit, apply more paste and do it again. I have no idea why.

5. I am growing my stupidly thick hair to extra long lengths so that I can cut it off and donate it to the Cancer society. Thing is, my curly hair ain't so cute at this length...which means I am blowing it out straight. This is a major event in my life once a week these days because it takes me over an hour to get the job done. And I shit you not, I get so bloody hot while I'm doing it, that even my knees are sweating. 

6. I like to do something special each year for my birthday. This year I am going to see Jillian Michaels at the NAC. On. My. Actual. Birthday!!! I even paid extra for the VIP seats. All I want for my 36th birthday is a picture with Jillian Michaels. I am prepared to rush the stage if necessary.

7. My email inbox at work is insanely under control. Always. If I have more than 10 emails in my inbox, I get stressed out. 

8. My email inbox at home is out of control and I kinda sorta don't care.

9. I am currently training to walk a half marathon in May. My first ever. I am confident that I can do it. I am also confident that I will need one hell of a pedicure afterwards. 

10. I haven't written about my food/weight/body image struggles for awhile. I suppose I am partially avoiding it, partially working on hating my body less and accepting myself as I am. Jiggles and all. But I do have lots to say about it. In due time.

11. I have so many delicates in my underwear drawer that I could go over a month without wearing the same pair twice or needing to do laundry. TMI? Oh well.

12. Point #11? Also applies to my sock drawer. A month's worth of socks. Easily.

13. My favourite (okay, only) sister is getting married this summer. I *might* have bullied my way into being her maid of honour.

14. I can type an average of 58 words per minute. 

15. I cannot stand wearing socks. Or coats. It is not uncommon to see me outside in the dead of Ottawa winter with a hoodie and a vest instead of a coat.

16. I once gave away my snow pants when I was a kid playing at the park one day. I was too hot. My mother was pissed. She paid over $100 for that extra long suit to fit her extra tall kid.

17. I had my appendix removed when I was 21 months old, my gall bladder out when I was 12, and my tonsils hauled when I was 21.

18. When I was a kid, I used to find change on the floor and between seat cushions at the bar my mom ran downtown. I usually went to Woolworth's and spent it on nail polish, despite the fact that I chewed my nails so badly I would get infections.

19. When I was 28, I finally went to aesthetics school to take a couple of courses so that I could work on the side doing things I genuinely liked doing - waxing, massage, manicures and pedicures. I love all things make-up, hair, polish and scent related.

20. I went to French immersion from grades 7-12. I'm too shy to speak Le French, and I don't use this skill nearly often enough, mais je peux comprendre, si vous parlez lentement.

21. I used to be the kind of girl who would bend over backwards to get people to like me. That is, on the rare occasions that someone snubbed me, treated me unkindly, or just plain ol' didn't like me. However...and this is major progress...now I just don't give a flying fuck. You don't like me? Your loss. 

22. I have never smoked a cigarette in my life. In addition to being slightly allergic, I also loathe the smell. More than any other smell that I can think of. Kwesi is a "part time smoker" (I only pretend to understand what this means), and for this reason, I can't help but feel nervous at the prospect of us living together.

23. With my whole heart, I believe that it takes a village to raise a child. We are all responsible for the children we are collectively raising to someday rule our countries. 

24. I am always humbled by the power of human touch. A good hug can be more powerful and restorative than a good night's sleep sometimes.

25. I make friends easily. Everywhere I go. Even when I am not actively looking to expand my circle, I find friends. After a recent Facebook poll, I'm told that it is because I listen, ask questions, and allow people the time to speak. I understand that we all have a story, and we want to be heard. We all have pain, and we all want to be seen. We have all triumphed over loss, climbed out of the trenches, and fought to get where we are today, and it is human nature to want recognition for our successes - I celebrate with people. And I don't judge - recognizing that I haven't earned that right. 


That's all I've got for now.
Have an awesome day!
xoxox
~J

For no specific reason, I'm cranky.

And just like that. Nothing around me changes. Nobody has been mean to me. I haven't physically hurt myself. Everyone I love still loves me. I still have everything in my life that I had 2 minutes ago.

Except my thoughts start to spiral...

Work is beyond overwhelming right now. Like, the busiest I have been in this position in 2 years. And it just. keeps. coming! Every time a new item lands on my desk, it gets added to the pile of 20, 30, 50 that I already have. 

My step-son is getting his hair cut - but it is something I don't get to do anymore because his mom "wasn't comfortable with it". This was, by far, my very favourite thing to do, just he and I. We would always make a date out of it - lunch and a hair cut. Movie and a hair cut. Shopping and a hair cut. It was one small way that I could care for him, and spend quality time bonding. I'm still trying to find a sustainable replacement that hopefully won't offend, upset, or make anyone feel like I'm stepping on their toes.

All of a sudden, I go from feeling all cute, happy, and dressed for spring, to cranky and feeling fat, ugly, and gross. 

Kwesi's dad and step-mom are coming to my place for dinner on Friday and I am mid-spring clean. Despite living alone in 800 square feet, I have a lot of crap not in it's proper home and a very nice layer of dust on most shelves and end tables. I haven't found the time to wash the floors in weeks. I'm almost done making it spic and span. And let me tell you, my place is going to be so clean that I'm going to take pictures.

On days like yesterday, for no real reason at all, if I somehow manage not to eat 63* peanut butter cups in one sitting, it is nothing short of a miracle.

****************************************************************

Thankfully, today is a new day. 

Rainy, and 17 glorious degrees outside. 

Going to a hockey game with my 2 best and most handsome men this evening.

Today, will be a better day. Nothing changed. All my circumstances are still the same as yesterday, but I will do my best at everything I do. And then I'll let it go. 

xoxox
~J

*Okay, a slight exaggeration. I clearly mean a more reasonable amount like 18 peanut butter cups. 

Newfoundland will always be home....but......

Look, I love Newfoundland. I really truly do. With my whole heart. Although my trips home are becoming less frequent these days, because I have so many other things I want to do with my time, and my money quite frankly.

When I left home, I promised myself to get out there and live life. I wanted to travel, meet new people, see shows, concerts, art galleries, and comedians. Even if it meant going to these events alone - which I have done, and would do again. I am definitely not one of those people who can't go to dinner, a movie or a show alone! 

In the past month, I have....

Driven to Montreal to see PINK in concert. And it was SO. GOOD. that I'm doing it all over again on December 3rd. Hands down, this concert was the best I have ever been to.

Seen Tommy Tiernan live at Centrepointe Theatre. Never seen him? Start with this clip here....I promise you - HILARIOUS. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lA7mae8L07w

And the absolute best night of the past month was seeing Oprah live at Scotiabank Place. Insightful, funny, accessible, relevant and inspiring. I swear to God, she has the ability to shut thousands of women up, which in itself makes her all kinds of amazing! 

There were moments when you could have heard a pin drop in that stadium.

Newfoundland will always be my home, but I am beyond grateful to be living on the mainland these days.

I feel very lucky.

xoxox

~J

I'm not a slut. I just love love.

This post isn't suitable for anyone under the age of 18. 

Or anyone who is going to judge me.

Consider yourselves warned.

casual sex
1. Having sexual contact with another person with no plans on furthering a long term/committed relationship with that person.

2. Sex for the sake of sex. 

Confession time. In addition to having a pretty major food addiction my whole life, I was also a bit of a floozy for a long time from the time I was 18, until I was about 28. And then again from 31 to 33. Oh wait, maybe 34.

I met men online, in bars, and through friends. I flirted shamelessly, and laced almost every conversation with sexual innuendos, coy comments and plenty of eyelash batting. I did what I had to do to get the attention I so desperately wanted. Maybe needed. Both?

And maybe part of me is just a natural flirt. Yes, that is definitely true. I'm going to say that it is part of my undeniable - yes, undeniable - charm.

All this charm and sexual prowess usually worked, too. Whether it was a one night stand, or an ongoing friends-with-benefits arrangement, I was usually able to lift my confidence when it was flying low, by bedding a male suitor. If they were sleeping with me, then obviously I was attractive, had value, and meant something to them, right???

Like everything that goes up though, I would come down off the afterglow high eventually.

No matter how many partners (and there were plenty), and despite all the times I was pinned against walls (countless), and told I was sexy (truth be told, I still like hearing this one as do most women), I didn't believe it. Yet I kept needing to feel wanted, and hear those sweet nothings whispered in my ear. 

I craved the phone calls, the emails, the texts and the attention. I was constantly checking my email, dating profiles and accounts - to the point that it even became distracting at work for a time. It was intoxicating, distracting, flattering, and above all else, it was addictive. 

Not that different from my food issues, really.

I gave up girls nights in, girls nights out, dinner parties, movie dates, and parties. I gave up my morals and self respect by sleeping with married men behind their unknowing wives back - this is not something I admit with pride, I assure you and it is also something for which I feel I have paid the price in karma since then, too. 

In a nutshell, I believe that I did all of that because deep down I didn't feel very good about who I was, and more specifically, I felt really shitty about how I looked. I think back to a few years ago and shudder to know that I was once a girl so desperate. So clueless. So asleep behind the wheel of her own life.

In some very deep, very dark untapped place in my heart, I didn't believe that I deserved more than what I was getting - the irony being that I was getting back exactly what I was putting out, of course. I didn't feel worthy of true love and genuine affection. I talked myself into believing that I was just using those men as much as they were using me. And sure, there were times that I was. 

However, if I had been completely honest with myself, and those guys? I was always secretly holding on to the hope that eventually one of those men would see past my walls, and know there was a lot more to me than what I was putting out there. And put out, I did, I tell you...

I went to strange places, met up for blind dates, and put myself into potentially dangerous situations for the sake of a casual fuck. I went to clubs, and discovered a whole underground society here in Ottawa that is only spoken about in whispers and closed circles.

Sure, it was physically fun...there is always a pay-off for the things we humans do after all. But the bottom line is that under the veil of all those bed sheets, I was aimlessly trying to find my self worth. And I was seeking validation that I couldn't give myself.

My self worth will never be found in any man's pants. 

Reserving all judgement, and removing all of my own shame, I understand that many women the world over will walk this same path en route to a better place, trying to discover their own worth. 

Some basic rules I tried to follow when venturing from bed to bed to bathroom floor, to kitchen counter, to stairs and public washrooms and back to bed:


1. Trust your instincts. Delete/block anyone who gives you the creeps.

2. Only give your personal email address to the guys you are genuinely interested in talking to/meeting.

3. Don't give out your phone number all willy nilly.

4. If ever you decide to meet up with someone, you should let someone know when/where and with who - on the slim chance that anything were to ever happen to you, your trusted inner circle will need to know who to send the cops after.

5. Always, always, always practice safe sex. Prayer is not a safe form of birth control.

6. Make sure you visit your family doctor to get tested for all STD's at least once a year. 


7. As a single woman, you are bound to get a lot of attention from your profile, and what you are looking for. And all that attention can be addictive, and it can also blind you to what is most important in life. Try to keep a level head, don't get carried away in fantasy land, and don't put everything else aside for a friend with benefits.  

8. This. Don't forget this -------->

I know who I want to spend my Saturdays with. It just took me awhile to realize that I deserved better for myself. And a little longer to find a man smart enough to see the value in me.

xoxox
~J

I'm slightly tanned, I hate pants and socks.

1 week. All inclusive. Dominican Republic.
Our first trip longer than a weekend away together. 

No ex-wives. 

No work. No school. No deadlines. 

No alarm clocks. No rules. 

Lots of laughter. 

New friends - a girl crush for me, and a bromance for Kwesi.

Sun rise. Sun set. Sandy beach.
Sand crabs, sarongs and swimsuits.
Smearing on sunscreen. Re-applying too late.
Perfect breezes. Water shoes. Audio books.
Patience and enough time to learn cribbage.
Day trips, larimar and custom made Pandora charms.
Going to bed early. Sleeping in.
Pretty dresses. Flip flops. No. Socks.
Bliss.
Love.

Dear Coach...

When I was a kid, I played basketball, volleyball, soccer, water polo and rugby. Organized through school, and until my mid-teens, I was an active part of a team that had try-outs, practices, games and tournaments. 

Looking back on it, I don't recall ever being given a bottle of Gatorade after sharing equal amounts of time on the field as my teammates. Our coaches didn't encourage us to celebrate with brownies, ice cream, or candy. And we didn't have end-of-the-season pizza parties.

And I still managed to grow up with some pretty serious food issues, that would eventually lead me away from the field, and into the booth of my local fast food joint. 

Kwesi and I have spent a lot of time talking about this stuff, and taking notes on the treats that were given out after each of mini-Kwesi's hockey practices and games this past season. Thinking back to soccer last year, we noticed it was pretty much the same: Gatorade, ice cream, brownies, gummy candies, sugar filled granola bars, etc...

In an effort to be proactive, Kwesi sent the letter below to the head of the soccer league to see if perhaps we couldn't all band together and start enforcing water, fresh fruits and vegetables instead.

Feel free to copy, paste, and send this letter to your own kids soccer/hockey/basketball/ringette/rugby/swimming/baseball etc... coach. 

While you're at it, why not be really bold and share it with the other parents on the team?

It takes a village, and it starts with us. All of us.

xoxox
~J

Dear Coach,

Before the start of the soccer season this year, I would like to get your feedback; and ideally, your cooperation; on a concern of mine. Typically after almost every practice and game in previous years, parents were taking turns supplying snacks and/or sugar-filled drinks for the kids afterwards.

Having recently learned a lot about food, nutrition, and how they pair with physical activity, I am wondering if we could try something new this season. Instead of brownies, ice cream, popsicles and sugar-filled drinks, could we instead ask all of the parents to get on board with healthier choices?

Its not that I have an issue with my son having 'treats', I just don't necessarily think he needs them on such a constant basis, and especially after working out - studies have shown that rewarding children with sugary treats after exercise can lead to a lifelong battle to make healthy food choices because they now associate healthy work outs with junk food rewards.

Substituting water for juice and gatorade, and orange slices or watermelon for ice cream would better serve our children all around. Children playing soccer with half an hour of field time do not need to replace electrolytes in the same way marathon runners do. And while our kids may not like it at the time, they will grow used to it, and hopefully in time realize that we banded together for their own good.

I have included some articles below that you may want to review.

Thank you for taking the time to consider this request.

http://www.consumethisfirst.com/2010/05/10/sports-drinks-kids-and-electrolytes/

http://www.weightymatters.ca/2012/08/the-parental-no-files-organized-kid.html

http://school-bites.com/taking-a-stand-against-junk-food-in-school/

Want Vs: Need

The constant WANT VS: NEED war is an almost daily battle for me. 

Or, as I think of it, My A-Game vs: My F-Game.

F: I WANT chocolate covered almonds. 

A: I'll have an apple.

F: I WANT all the potato chips ever made. 

A: I'll make popcorn instead.

F: I WANT pizza, with double cheese and bacon. And pepperoni. And sausage. And hot peppers.

A: It's make-my-own pizza night! Complete with loads of veggies and slightly less a lot less cheese.

F: I WANT ice cream. Ben and Jerry are my best friends. 

A: I make my own with bananas, strawberries and coconut milk.

F: I WANT cheese all the cheese!

A: I eat the pre-determined serving size of 28 grams. (which is like, SO!  SMALL! Unfair!)

F: I WANT a cookie with my Subway sandwich. 

A: I leave without the cookie. And the damn Coke Zero, too. 

F: I WANT a hot dog/hamburger/poutine for lunch. 

A: I eat a salad. Mmmmmmmm. Yummy.



When I'm playing my A-Game, my grocery cart is filled with fresh goodies from the produce section, lean meats and whole grains. 


A-Game = Low-sugar, high-fiber, filling wholesome foods.

My F-Game on the other hand? Mostly triggered by stress, negative energy directed my way, limiting beliefs, and old patterns, my F-Game isn't pretty. It is chips, chocolate, cheese, pizza, shame, guilt, and weight gain. 

I know it sounds like a lot of fun, and you're jealous.

F-Game = High sugar, low nutrient, hungry-again-in-an-hour foods.


With my whole being, I wish that I was one of those people who naturally had an "off switch" and no "trigger foods" in her repertoire. I don't understand these people. 

Side note: I am also sooooo jealous of these people. Seriously, how does that even work? How do you just say 'no thank you' to dessert? chips? cheese? chocolate? If it really were as easy as having will power, wouldn't we all do it?


And while I am still a girl who sometimes wanders down the snack aisle and picks things up, puts them back, chooses another flavour, puts that back too, and then decides to get a chocolate bar instead....I am also a girl who hasn't stopped trying. I'm human, and I struggle, and I make bad choices, and I overeat occasionally, and I make honest efforts, and I will never give up.

Right now I'm on my A-Game. 


Hope you are, too!

Have an awesome day!
xoxox
~J

We owe it all to Givenchy.

This is a story of how two people met, fell in love, and I became excited about Valentines Day for the first time in my life. I'll try to tell the shorter version, but tend to be a bit of a wind bag sometimes. Bear with me.

Kwesi and I met in February of 2010 through friends. Virtually at first - thanks to the vast, and sometimes invasive world of Facebook - he contacted me offering to photoshop and remove the annoying girls who photo-bombed this picture at my friends wedding...

Even giving me his phone number so that I could call and he could guide me through how to send him the original file version of the picture. Or some other tech-geek jargon that I don't understand.

My first thoughts on this guy? Wow! He is, like, SO. NICE. 

And having only just started allowing nice guys into my life, I also thought Wow! He is, like, SO. WEIRD.

About a week later, we met in person for the first time at an 80's cover band show:

(the very first picture of us, and the start of a great friendship.)

It didn't matter how nice he was though, he was also very off-limits. He was married at the time, and despite some past indiscretions of mine, I am no home-wrecker.

Fast forward 1.5 years though, and he is single now. He has dated people that I didn't like, and I have dated people that he didn't like. All the while, we are just friends....becoming best-attached-at-the-hip-friends through late spring and early summer of 2011.

We were road-trip-aholics, and PG-rated sleepover junkies. We drunk dialed each other, and skipped work to spend the day on bicycles, eating lunch on sun-filled patios in the market.

The energy between us was constantly shifting from platonic to potential? Back to platonic again? Back to potential? And in true girly-girl fashion, it was driving me right. out. of. my. mind. 

But I played it cool. Real cool.

Because I AM cool, obviously.

Sometime in mid-June of that year, we were shopping in Montreal together, when a tall, handsome man walked by and he smelled like.....ummmm.......he smelled like sex and love and chocolate. He smelled like everything you have ever loved all rolled into perfect-ass-hugging jeans, and the kind of fitted white t-shirt typically reserved for "handy-man inspired adult videos porn".

I could still smell his cologne when he was 20 paces ahead of us on Ste-Catherine street, and I wouldn't shut up about it. "Oh my God! He smells sooooooo good! Do you smell that?!?! It's that guy! Can't you smell him?!? Jesus, he smells amazing!"

I am the exact kind of girl that these perfume companies go after. The kind of girl who smells Drakkar Noir and goes back to being 15 years old, or remembers an ex-boyfriend every time she catches a whiff of Aqua Di Gio. And, as it turns out, I am also the girl who will chase you down the street to ask what panty-removing cologne you happen to be wearing that day.

Handsome mans answer:  Givenchy Intense Play.

Sweet Jesus. Yes. 

And now it is 2 weeks later. June 25th, to be exact. I am at a wedding in Ottawa, Kwesi is at a party in Vaudreuil. Drunk-texting me, telling me to come to the party. In Vaudreuil!

And while it sounds crazy to some, I agreed to drive over there if my closest friends attending that wedding left by 10:30 p.m. Which is exactly what happened. So I hopped in my little red jet-engine car, with a packed bag in the trunk (just in case), and hit the highway for 1.5 hours.

I showed up at midnight, stone-cold-sober amid the drunken chaos and found Kwesi on the dance floor. Customary hello hugs and lip kisses, and guess what he has on!?!?! 

Givenchy Intense Play.

I playfully punched him in the arm, and called him an asshole. He pulled me close and we danced, and in the very early morning hours of that party, fueled with liquid courage, he finally kissed me. A real kiss! 

We finally moved past my standard lip-kiss that night, and the rest, as they say, is history.

xoxox
~J