I wish I could say I was a neo-feminist “Sex and the City” independent woman who doesn’t need a man (but still has plenty of options) in a major city like New York or LA, but alas, I am a small town girl. When I say small town, I mean a blinking yellow light is our version of “traffic control” and the height of fun centers around where a cow takes a dump at the annual town fair. So why don’t I get out and move to the city? Because, rarely does someone escape the clutches of a small town, and if they do, it’s only for a year or two and then only to one of the equally-hopeless surrounding rural communities. At that point, it’s almost better to stay put.


I grew up in one of those sleepy towns in Northern New England stuck in a time warp that’s slowly-but-surely being overrun with breeding yuppies looking to get away from the bustle of city life. Half-million dollar houses are popping up next to 18th-century farmhouses. Needless to say, I am not small-town-born myself, but I was part of the original 1980’s suburban invasion so I consider myself a small town native and I see the new residents as the intruders. I am a hypocrite, apparently.

Before I can give a proper argument as to why I am “still single and this is a bad thing” as opposed to the “you’re young and should enjoy being single” crap I’m fed every day, let me explain my first life. Because maybe that would explain why I’m stuck in my second life. Maybe… but that’s just a theory. (More of a hope, really).

I was a sheltered, small-town girl. 

Need I really say more?

Join me in the constant migraine that is my life :-)