*blue balls not included.
I forgot to mention in previous postings that last Wednesday, a group of girls and I were having dinner at Sushi Rock downtown and noticed this gentleman dressed in his suit, “bling-bling” cross necklace, and ironically enough, sunglasses (it was about 10pm). He proceeded to walk over to our table to chat with us (more than likely because he saw a group of 10 women staring at him, trying to figure out WHO it was). He prompted the conversation with “You’re all little Lizas!”
It was David Guest. You know, the shoe-battered husband of Liza Mannelli. He introduced himself, shook all our hands, and chatted with us for maybe 5 minutes. How random is that?
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This blog is about pursuit: a transplanted Clevelander (me) in a new city (that's you, Pittsburgh!), pursuing the role of a self-employed copywriter, becoming a roller derby badass and somehow merging all my to-do items into one ever-growing Bucket List.
And of MY boyfriend. His blue balls started this mess.
