“She was feeling her bohemian oats.”

“She did not know where her home was anymore, and this idea didn’t frighten her like it should. - Bohemian Grove”

“So what you’re saying is Nate isn’t sex on a stick?” Emma asked.Casey chuckled. “Nate is barely sex on a low fat wheat-thin. But I sowed a few wild oats back in my day, so I’m totally satisfied with what I have.” She bent over to grab up her abandoned container and silverware. Waving her fork at Emma, she said, “You, on the other hand, have a bag of oats needing satisfying.”Emma rolled her eyes. “Let’s leave my oats out of this please.”

“She dressed in bohemian clothes, penned novels, panted, and yearned to roam forgotten corners of the world. She was habitually defiant and fearless, and when she felt controlled, as she often did, she could be irresistibly willfull. Mostly, she was bored silly by the vanilla sort boys who trailed her around, and by the stodgy set in Miami Beach.”

“It's OAT-freaking-MEAL!”

“a certain bohemian, good-witch sort of charm”