Chelsea Fagan

It doesn’t just have to be the usual, “Hey, here’s a nice bouquet of flowers just for existing,” though that can be nice.

This is perhaps the saddest case I’ve ever dealt with in all my years of practice. The pair met in a drug-rehab clinic.

Whenever I listen to it, I think of the person I’m with and I immediately feel a hundred times more in love. It’s like a drug to me.

Men and women are always worried about, “What do we have in common, do we both play tennis?” It is much more important that you have in common that what you have to give, they value. By value, I mean appreciate.

Showing you his music is not just a cut-and-dry process of “Hey, here’s this song/band I really enjoy, why don’t you check it out so you cane enjoy it, too?” It’s a process where you have to be still and silent for an extended period of time so that you can make sure to absorb it in just the right conditions, then answer a thirty-question pop quiz at the end. You have to get it. Do you get it?

“Is that so?” he replied, pulling me in a bit closer, “You naughty, heckling girl.”

Probably the best talk show appearance either of them have been involved in.

Around 0:40, the officer asks Jones to retrieve his wallet, and immediately begins shooting, ostensibly under the pretense that he feared Jones was getting a weapon.

Suddenly, when not weighed down by oil or product, the roots of my hair had lift and volume, and the ends didn’t feel dried out and lifeless.

I just… we all need to bow down to this girl.

My mentions were a flurry of angry comments, personal attacks, the cluster of people fav’ing and RTing one another’s barbs, and general messiness.

He is totally comfortable in his skin and confident with who he is. He doesn’t mind holding your purse or wearing a pink sweater or (eventually, you imagine) carrying a little girl’s Barbie backpack around all day so she can go play. He is game for a good tea party, and has no fear of “looking silly.”