reader's digest version of the last year of my life:

I split with my boyfriend of ten years in October. Yes, ten years. That means I dated him from the time I was 18 years old to 28. That's a lot of years. The reasons we broke up are not important and I don't want to delve too much into the past; the present and future are so much funnier. I'm sure I'll relate to snippets of my time with him in posts because he is wrapped up in so much of who I am today, but I'll do so with the hope that my experiences will be of value to someone else. So I found myself homeless, boyfriendless, dogless - yes he kept my dog. Really.

After a brief stay with my dad I found my own place and am rockin the single life in my bachelorette pad like a college girl on spring break. I've met a lot of guys, been on a lot of dates, and had an awful lot of cocktails to get me through. These are my stories.