I've been eight years with this beautiful little thing and I've got a partner for him now. After eight years of trying to unify the titles, it's going to be pretty hard to give this up.
Friendship is tested in the thick years of success rather than in the thin years of struggle.
I've come to the conclusion that a long, personal relationship is next to impossible for me. Ultimately, music is a possessive mistress.
I admit, I have a tremendous sex drive. My boyfriend lives forty miles away.
Call you up in the middle of the night. It's awful hard trying to make love long distance, but I really need stimulation.
There's no such thing as a perfect guy. I think it would be strange if somebody was absolutely everything you always wanted, because then there'd be no challenge. Also, you'd feel inferior.
Writers don't make good spouses. When I am writing, I'm not a good wife. I shut myself away, and all my emotions are directed towards what I'm trying to write.
it is so unfair that he lives in ohio, because that should be close enough, but since neither of us drives and neither of us would ever in a million years say, 'hey, mom, do you want to drive me across indiana to see a boy?,' we're kind of stuck.
