I am someone who has always preferred to look for love. After my gap year in college, which I took to write the first draft of Waiting at Hayden’s, I was debating transferring schools. I hadn’t loved the school I’d started at for many reasons, one being that I hadn’t seen anyone on campus I was remotely excited about dating at some point during the next several years. Yes, I know I wasn’t going to school to meet someone, but I didn’t want to be somewhere for three more years where there . . .
For the longest time I hated the smell of cigarettes—probably almost as much as most people hate Valentine’s Day. But then I went backpacking through Europe and stayed with a handful of wonderful people—all who smoked cigarettes. And almost overnight cigarette smoke became synonymous with good times and great people. I’ve found that you can change your relationship with just about anything—and anyone—by a simple shift in perspective. I, for one, have always been a sucker for Valentine’s Day. . . .