I don't remember his face or the place we ate. I only remember how he grabbed my hand and his voice when he spoke of his dad.

I remember things like dates down to minutes, what they smelled like, how they walked and how they tug their hands in their pockets. I twine myself in nostalgia of moments and not necessarily the people in them. I long for the idea of the past and occasionally forget the present. I find myself lost in memories, just looking to recreate the moment; forgetting the past is in the past and what we have is now.

If it winds up earlier, you should have a movie picked out. This is assuming she isn't sending you the —let's go back to my place' signals. In that case— ——Don't go there, Bob. Let's just not go there.

Simon turned to Jordan, who was lying down across the futon, his head propped against one of the woven throw pillows. How much of that did you hear?Enough to gather that we're going to a party tonight, said Jordan. I heard about the Ironworks event. I'm not in the Garroway pack, so I wasn't invited.I guess you're coming as my date now. Simon shoved the phone back into his pocket. I'm secure enough in my masculinity to accept that, said Jordan. We'd better get you something nice to wear, though, he called as Simon headed back into his room. I want you to look pretty.

Pops: How about you finish this sentence for me, Jason? When a girl says no she means...Justin, looking desperately at me: No?Nana: Are you sure?Justin, shifting uncomfortably: I'm sure. No means no.Nana: Well look at you. You got one right. Now here's another, even tougher sentence for you to finish. Premarital sex is...Me: Nana! I'm so sorry Justin.Nana: Unlike Pops, I'm not moving on. Justin?Pops: His name is Jason.Justin:Uh....uh....Pops: While you think about that, why don't you tell me how you feel about drinking and driving?Justin: I'm totally against it, I swear!Nana: Methinks he protests too much.

Don't answer the door in a wedding dress and veil, he might not think you're joking.

Excuse me? Tonight you represent every dateless woman in this city, every woman who's about to sit down to a lonely meal of Weight Watchers past primavera she's just nuked in the microwave. Every woman who will get into bed tonight with a book or reruns of Sex and the City as her only companion. You are our shining hope....But no pressure.