*blue balls not included.
In Chicago, after completely passing out from a day full of beer drinking, AB jolted awake out of nowhere and exclaimed:
It’s like I need a GPS to find you in this bed.
For a second I thought he was sleep talking, so I started laughing at him. But then his drunk ass wanted to make out.
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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.
