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Just Her Type

BY: Ellen McGauley
Design and interiors obsessives, you gotta join me tomorrow. I'm headed over to the new ESD shop in Mount Pleasant for their Open House... if you haven't stopped in, it's in the old garden center on...
BY: E. Louise
I wrote this essay for the September issue of Charleston magazine, on newsstands now. If you haven't picked it up yet, do. There's a ton of buzz about the "Our Town" photo essay by Dustin K. Ryan—it'...
BY: E. Louise
  "When I prayed during the winter months, I asked the Lord to make it warm. I did not say, 'Looooord, please bring the devil from hell and have him sit his ass crack on earth....' That's not...
BY: E. Louise
You want the sun back. Bad. You'd pay for it if you could. But it doesn't work like that. Sure, you can get most anybody to take your money. Not God though... trust me, I've tried to pay...
BY: E. Louise
“We don’t live in the information age. That would be an insult to information, which, on some level, is supposed to inform. We live in the communication age. Ten billion fingers fumbling away,...
BY: E. Louise
You'd think asking someone what they'd like as a gift would net heartwarming dialogue. "What?? Oh, you shouldn't... but I could always use a book." Or, "No-no-no-don't-don't-don't, I don't need...
BY: E. Louise
Mother's Day is three days away and you've got nothing. Goose egg. Nada. Feelin' the heat?   But guys, it's actually easier than you think. I surveyed lots of moms to find out what they...
BY: E. Louise
I’ve mentioned in a past blog that University of Michigan’s head coach, John Beilein, is my mom’s youngest brother.   Which means… Uncle John is headed to the Final Four. The Final Friggin’...
BY: E. Louise
Last week, I brought you the first round of Facebook Fouls—crimes against (virtual) humanity, brazenly served up daily by friends, “friends,” neighbors, and people we last saw playing skeeball at...
BY: E. Louise
Anyone who knows me is aware of the complex, love/hate thing I have with Facebook. We’re like that redneck couple whose fights wake the neighbors. Weekly break-ups. I-never-want-to-see-you-again......
BY: E. Louise
How good are we at spotting red flags in others? I ask because, by now, many of us have caught wind of the local event planner accused by a Miami couple of fraud, in the news last week. He was hired...
BY: E. Louise
Let's start here. My Uncle Pat was in town this weekend. He called me on Sunday morning to go to breakfast, and the conversation went like this:   Him: We’re thinking the diner, around 9am. Do...
BY: E. Louise
Light Cafe, Circular Congregational Church graveyard   Before moving to Charleston, I was fascinated by haunted houses. My brushes with lost souls were few and mostly vicarious,...
BY: E. Louise
Last Thursday, my friend Martha and I dressed in the exact same outfit (black wraparound dress, boots, and clutch) and headed out to Lowndes Grove to do some "tasting." We didn't mean to wear the...
BY: E. Louise
  "Irene, don't be a dick."   That's a Facebook quote from my friend Paige, written this time last year, as Hurricane Irene barrelled toward Florida and she—a resident of Orlando—packed...
BY: E. Louise
“Not to be a negative Nelly, but it almost seems like I may never be an Olympic athlete.”   That’s a quote from my friend Myndi. She’s 37, a financial analyst, and a former member of her high...
BY: E. Louise
I dig summer camp. I always have, though I never went as a kid. Despite my tearful petitions and mailing away for one swimming-fishing-Parent Trap camp brochure after another, my parents failed to...
BY: E. Louise
If you missed them, Part 1: Ladies’ Responses and Part 2: Men’s Responses came first. But below is the Big One—the post that contains the Mac-Daddy mortal sins. See, in pulling this together, I...
BY: E. Louise
If you missed Part 1, read it here (that post also contains a bit about how I compiled these lists).   Before I get into men's dealbreakers, here’s a quick observation: When I asked women,...
BY: E. Louise
You hear a lot about how difficult it is to date in Charleston. But you gotta admit—some people don't make it any easier. You sit down with someone for a drink or coffee and realize they're one...


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