Sometimes the only sane choice is the most difficult.

This weekend, I was out at a bar with some friends when I drunkenly stumbled into a guy who looked strangely familiar. We began chatting and despite my hangover-in-the-making, we actually had a coherent conversation. However, despite the good vibes, he unabashedly peppered the conversation with a steadfast motto: “You’re not getting my number.”

Wedding season that is. Even if you’re not getting married in your 20s, chances are you’re going to weddings… a lot of weddings.

I’m not asking for a singing telegram, but a thoughtful e-mail might be nice. Does a middle ground exist between the romantic communication of yesteryear and the careless channels of today?

Are my boyish limitations an impediment to emotional maturity?

I’ve known some amazing guys who wanted to be my boyfriend, but I didn’t choose them. Why?

Dating a man 1,600 miles away requires all types of love.

Sometimes a new experience hits you like a load of bricks, forever changing your worldview. And sometimes you can cycle through the same episodes over and over and still be stuck in your misguided oblivion.