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  • Writer's pictureLeah Jones
    • Dec 16, 2007
    • 1 min read

Love.

The last time that my Dad and I talked about when I might find love, he gave me six months. That was in October, so things might work out on his timeline, which would thrill me. I go back and forth between wanting to look for love and stay home doing dishes, laundry and writing.

Sometimes I think I watched too much NBC growing up and it affected how I think love should happen. Either I fall in love with my bartender co-worker (Sam Malone) or a friend (Um, Friends). Truth be told, that spark isn’t ever with bartenders (whew) or friends (trust me, I’ve run it by a few of them), but guy

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