I've always had a fickle relationship with my Postman.  It started back during the summer between my 5th and 6th grade years.  I received my first love letter (ok, love may be a bit strong) from John E. who I had the biggest crush on. (we had met at summer camp) The letter arrived smelling of Old Spice, (nice touch) written in poor penmanship (he struggled with cursive) and filled with grammatical errors but I didn't care about any of that. (there's always room for improvement) The only thing that mattered is that John E. sent ME a "love" letter which described his paper route in explicit detail and how he was saving up to buy some Star Wars figures and something special for me. Every day I would wait on my stoop for Bob the mailman to deliver my next letter from my future Prom date. "Did I get a letter?" "Sorry, kiddo." "Are you sure?"  (he lost patience with this daily dialogue after a week) "Yes, I'm sure, maybe you should move on and find another boy." (Really?? you're giving me love advice, don't you still live with your mother??) "Ok, thanks."

I've been known to have a few quirky habits (I like to refer to them as eccentric and mysterious) when it comes to certain daily activities.

I was out with my girlfriends last week for Happy Hour (ok, hours) and we were discussing politics, religion, global warming and hyperinflation, (translation, Hollywood gossip, Christmas shopping, the weather and the best sales in town) when a brazen boy came up and asked "How are you ladies fairing this fine evening?"  "Great, thanks, do you work here?"  That took him off his game. (I can be cruel) He stumbled a bit and then got back on his horse and asked if we would like to join his friends for a drink.  "Thank you but we're having a girls night out." This interaction of course lead to a new topic of discussion, the worse lines we've ever heard. Here are just a few we've been subjected to.

It's officially begun! No, not the new fall TV schedule (although I can't wait for Grey's Anatomy! Seriously, how many people got shot??) No, not my search for the perfect over the knee boot (I want the ones that say fashionista not I'm working the corner) But it's the beginning of being a weekend widower. (say that three times fast) It's football season, ladies! Here are five "for sures" that you're in the thick of it.
1) Saturdays are now a frenzied morning of calling in fantasy football picks by noon. (god forbid if you're out of cell service, that is something you do not want to see, ugly and sad)
2) All weekend activities are scheduled around game time. "What do you mean their getting married at 3pm on Saturday, that's the kick off!" "Honey, I'm sure the bride didn't plan on interrupting your day, a complete oversight on her part."  (Really??)