The Rules Of Magic, My Dear, Are

...because Really, Sometimes The Irony Gods Just Get Drunk.

Sitting In My Favorite Coffeehouse With A New Notebook And A Hot Cup Of Java Is My Idea Of Heaven.

The World Expected Girls To Pluck And Primp And Put On Heels. Meanwhile, Boys Dressed In Rumpled T-shirts And Baggy Pants And Misplace Their Combs, And Yet You Were Suppose To Fall At Their Feet? Unacceptable.

Maybe Girls Need An Island To Find Themselves. Maybe They Need A Place Where No One's Is Watching Them So They Can Be Who They Really Are

I Will Never, Ever Drink Whiskey Again. From Now On, It's Strictly Sherry.