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Rachel

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Rachel

I'm Rachel, and I'm a shopaholic. No, seriously, I'm a Southern girl born and raised in a small town in western North Carolina. Yes, I&nbsp;know how to fish, hunt, drive a stick shift, make moonshine&nbsp;and milk a cow. Thanks for asking. I am a textbook&nbsp;case&nbsp;Type A, oldest child, ENTJ, and yes, I&nbsp;buy into&nbsp;personality typing hook, line &amp; sinker.&nbsp;I am somewhat unlucky in love, but that makes for good stories, and hey, I&nbsp;still have hope - even a blind hog finds an acorn sometimes. <br /> <br /> I was also born to bleed Carolina blue, so I made my way across the state to the picturesque UNC campus following graduation. It was in Chapel Hill where I&nbsp;cultivated my tastes for good food, fine wine and designer clothes. I liked it so much I&nbsp;stayed and got a Masters.&nbsp;And for the record, I am not friends with, nor even acquainted with a single Duke fan. It takes a lot to ruffle my feathers, but those Dookies sure know how to do it.<br /> <br /> Following college and graduate school, I moved to Charlotte, NC, so&nbsp;I could make a living to support my expensive tastes. I&nbsp;do admit I've attended my fair share of Nascar races since my arrival.While I currently work in PR, I daydream about other careers, including but not limited to: Personal Shopping, Food Critic, Author, and Trophy Wife. Oh well, sometimes we have to settle when it comes to paying the bills, at least for now. But, I&nbsp;still hear my little ole Southern grandma's words in my head: &quot;It's just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it is to&nbsp;with a poor one.&quot;

Stories by Rachel

As I sat alone on February 14, nursing a glass of red wine, I realized this was my first single Valentine’s Day in a long time. I reminisced...
The year 2011 is different from years past. Rather than starting on January 1, binging my way through Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s,...
A few text messages and a couple of weeks later, I run into Ryan and his girlfriend Megan at the corner deli. I’m grabbing a lazy Sunday...
I head back to the office fully prepared to spend my afternoon devising a plan of attack. Once safely back in my cubicle, I G-chat my best friend...
At 6:30 am the alarm goes off again. It’s Monday, the beginning of another long work week. I press snooze a few times before slowly getting out...