The 29 year old is a great conversationalist. He makes me laugh. I make him laugh. He insisted I write down these What I've Learneds since I had him rolling in the aisles over them. He gives great back rubs, which is important since, if you're single, you never get lotion on that ONE spot in your back. We don't kiss; we just don't roll like that. We do other stuff and he always comments in entertainingly lewd ways on how I was blessed by and won the genetic lottery. I tell him that it's because I haven't pushed a whole human being out of a small portal in my body which I don't care who does it, changes the distribution of flesh and bone. Also, 8 years of ballet, 4 years of swimming and lifeguard duty. We meet 3 to 5 times a year and have since he was 22. It's pretty awesome.

I'm not ashamed. I don't see the disgusting. Don't even see the dirtbag. Do see the abs and I get to be susceptible without shame. ("Like shame is something to be proud of" -Cordelia Chase.) To further steal original content, from an astute line from yesterday's Reddit link, were he to walk down my pike "I'd put it on my CV." Adam Levine's bony ass would be mine forever and everyone would know because I would never shaddupabouddit.

"As if anyone would keep banging Bon Jovi a secret. I'd put it on my CV." Truer words and all.

Yeah, he was fine. Very fine. All that navy blue against my yella was erotic as hell. It's disconcerting to know that my boy has passed on to glory now.

Well, apparently I am recognized here as both Sherlynn and AnonymousSecs. Thank all of you for the wonderful comments to these little vignettes of my life. I so appreciate the good thoughts. And I appreciate Mallory for finding them good for The Toast.