I had a bit of an epiphany last week, Reader. It was: 12-year-old Me would be so disappointed in 34-year-old Me. 12-year-old Me had her shit together. She kept her checkbook up to date (god bless the 90s). She had a growing savings account thanks to never spending a CENT from birthday money. She always wrote thank you notes on time. 12-year-old Me was building a future of keeping that shit together, of staying aware of deadlines, of being proactive. Sooooooo, like I said ... 12-year-old Me...
26 days ago • 3 min read
I don't *need* you to agree with me on this, Reader, but I think you will ... Bullshit on prep and cooking times. BULLSHIT. To every single food blogger: WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO US. I don’t have “evidence” that you post these impossible cooking times in order to break our spirits .............. but I have an intuition. “Have 20 minutes and nothing to do? Whip up these Caviar-Style Seaweed Pearls on Blini with Crème Fraîche.” “Have 10 minutes and some old ricotta in the back of the fridge? Try...
about 1 month ago • 3 min read
"Um, do you maybe want to do something other than smile?" Reader, I sure as hell did. I had done a ton of research and — and even built a cute little pinterest board — for the solo shots I wanted to take for my website. We were taking family pictures two weekends ago, and my can-occasionally-be-thrifty ass saw an opportunity to get some *free* professional headshots. Though you definitely wouldn’t know had you happened to be off in the distance that day watching my stiff, awkward self do...
about 1 month ago • 4 min read
"But I mean ... Don Draper IS kind of boring." I started watching Mad Men last week, Reader. More accurately, I started watching Mad Men again. I attempted to binge it about four years ago at the behest of my partner. "It's even better than The Wire!" he said. (as though I've seen The Wire ...) My first attempt ended about two episodes in when I was like: Sorry, bro. I'm not strapping in to relive the oppression we're still fighting. I don't care how hot Joan is. Since my declaration, he's...
about 2 months ago • 2 min read
Hi, Reader. So, I just found a personal boundary. Last week, my back went out. (If you watch my Instagram stories, you’ll now know that I *heavily* rely on muscle relaxers.) And it went out in a baaaad way. In a, like, “are you sure you’re only 34?” way. I bent down to feed the dog do a bunch of impressive gymnastics, from which a back spasm makes total sense. And then ... A single, menacing, mother fucker of a twinge. Followed by lovely icy spreading from my lower back into my butt and down...
about 2 months ago • 3 min read
Horse testicles, splayed open. GOOD morning, Reader!!! Right, horse castration. It's the thing you see on a farm, at a ranch … and at the dentist. Last week, I showed up for my (overdue) cleaning. It was a new dentist's office, and it had ticked enough boxes to win my vote. ✅ close to where we’re currently staying ✅ a reasonable out-of-pocket price tag And — most importantly — ✅ zero reviews of horse castration Booked. When I got there, they whisked me to bay 4. Everything was nice enough....
2 months ago • 2 min read
Hi Reader! Last week, I was knee deep in a few things: writing a big-ass welcome sequence for a client (17 emails!) creating a from-scratch copywriting training feeling really sorry for myself that for committing to a week of no wine So I didn't have much spare time. (And the spare time I DID have was spent watching — and yelling at — season 2 of Lost.) But there was sooooomething in the back of my head that I was anxious to address. Sooooomething that kept saying, "but what about me,...
2 months ago • 2 min read
Soooooo, Reader. My partner loves pickles. Scratch that. My partner thinks he loves pickles. In reality, he’s only loved TWO specific pickles in the past and now conflates all pickles with perfection. It usually isn’t a huge problem. He buys a jar of pickles. He doesn’t like the pickles. We both slowly peck away at the jar, accompanying them with veggie sandwiches and kettle chips to mask whatever is wrong with the pickles (a detail he can never put his finger on). I start the conversation...
3 months ago • 3 min read
Reader, The cheese enchiladas had meat gravy on them. And they RUINED MY NIGHT. This weekend, somewhere in central Texas, we stopped at a Mexican restaurant. My partner and I are vegetarians — he’s been one for more than 20 years like a weirdo. I’m about five years in. We’re seasoned enough to know what we can order and what we can’t. Mexican restaurants are pretty safe — put some cheese on a chip or a carb. Our favorite. But, when I remember, I double-check. So I called. “Hi! Is your queso...
3 months ago • 2 min read