I grew up hearing that too. Sex should be special. But how exactly does that work? If you’re waiting until marriage and sex with them isn’t “special,” did you totally fuck everything up?

…what DO I get up to on the weekends?!? Well, turns out that the answer is even more boring than you could have imagined.

Maybe I had been putting it off. I grew up at Turner Field. Truist is bigger, nicer, cleaner. Like the Braves had a string of good luck and moved to the “good” part of town.

I’m pretend to be offended. “Would I ever lie to you?” The hint of a smile, the twinkle in my eye - obviously I am joking. At my core, I am a flirt. I believe everyone deserves to be flirted with once a day.

The Greeks had a word, xenia—guest friendship—a command to take care of traveling strangers, to open your door to whoever is out there, because anyone passing by, far from home, might be God.

Certain beverages inspire such unwavering devotion that consumption becomes a facet of identity. Like coffee, scotch, and Diet Coke – you don’t so much “like” Negronis as you are “a Negroni person.”

As a hoochie with a coochie living way down yonder on the Chattahoochee, I gotta say Alan Jackson’s description of a Georgia summer is spot on.

I get distracted so easily, it’s embarrassing. Music of any kind is absolutely out of the question. If I’m reading, I cut off at least 45 minutes so that with every word my mind doesn’t flit to work that needs to be done, dishes that need to be cleaned, cats that need to fed.

Giving gifts has always been my most cherished method through which I express love and care for other people. There’s a lot of reasons why, but at the end of December I finally put my finger on it.

And when I was in positions like the ones I mentioned above, people helped. They might not have a lot either. But they helped because they care about you specifically or they care about people in general or they just understand what it’s like to feel totally helpless…and then have someone help.