On romance

I received my paper Valentine from The Spinster yesterday. Delightful, as is she. Check her out.

Last night at class, Jean announced that she would like to fix me up with one of her guy friends.

Jean: I want to fix you up with one of my guy friends.
Me: Are they your age or my age?
Jean: My age.
Me: Jean, you're 22.
Jean: So? You can work the sexy older woman thing.
Me: No.

I do, however, have big matchmaking plans for Brit and Petey, but they don't know it yet.

Jake and I have an ongoing debate about romance. He's a hopeless, hopeless romantic. A big ole softie. I am not romantic, and he refuses to believe it. An ex that I spent the better part of three years told me once, "You are the least romantic person I've ever met in my life." Following my musing that Belle's ex may have anonymously given her a rose, Jake said, "You're entertaining swoony notions of a call girl and her lost love, and you're telling me you're not a romantic?"

It's all about the drama, kids. Not the romance.