Girl Most Likely To
"Celibacy is rotting your brain."
Cristina insisted through my cell phone, while the taxi jerked up Fifth Avenue. It might even have been true, but it was a hateful thing for a best friend to say.
At my age—and my father never missed an opportunity to remind me of my age with all the subtlety of a presiden-tial ass-pat—my mother had managed a screaming child, a barking dog, a doting husband and a medical residency. And she did it from a three-bedroom Colonial in Great Neck, Long Island. By twenty-seven, left to my own devices, I had amassed a lucrative, yet uninspiring, seventy-hour Wall Street workweek, a telling but unintentional track record of shoving plant corpses down the trash chute while the neigh-bors slept, and a very large, very expensive and very empty bed. It was the latter fact that had me feeling particularly vul-nerable. And of the many mistakes I made that Saturday evening, the first was expecting Cristina to understand.
"Just because I've decided to be rational and take control of my life, that doesn't mean I'm crazy." I pouted, checking my watch. Draped in my traditional powder-blue silk salwar kameez and matching satin ... read full excerpt from: Girl Most Likely To ebook
