boy crazy stacy

that's what my sister used to call me....named after the doll "stacie"*, barbie's younger and lesser- known sister (we own our corniness).

it's still true; i love men. i get it from my pops. i inherited his cheekbones,  love of the opposite sex, and his recklessness with intimacy. he was married (and divorced) 4 times . he loved women, beautiful women.  and they loved him. but to their dismay, his love wasn't exclusive.

ive never had a problem staying committed, just staying enamored. i get disappointed- and poof- love gone.

despite the failures, still got love for 'em- attractive men.  funny men. clever men. men who know how to pick argyle sweaters. and if he can play the climatic solo of 'hotel california' on his guitar,  values garlic powder, and only uses magnums, i will marry him.

but until that happens, 'boy crazy stacie', is here to stay.

*correction: the nick name was actually from a babysitter's club book title "boy crazy stacy". the corniness still stands.