The plaster of the walls was cracked, and the stairs, though cement, felt ancient beneath my boots. I’d managed to find the switch for the stairwell’s light and crept hastily past the door at the bottom, which was now slightly ajar to reveal the nighttime blackness of the building’s crumbling bowels. Had that been open when I left? Read the rest of this gem…
“No one likes you, and you’re going to die here.”
The whisper came at my back, hard and fast, while I was sifting through assorted boxes of chips in the closet-sized storeroom. I whirled around to see Lloyd,* resident oddball and prep room aficionado, silhouetted in the doorway. Read the rest of this gem…
Hang on tight! This is what it’s really like to explore Tuscany via Vespa. Read the rest of this gem…
My grandma used to be like, “Put some elbow grease into it, Katie!”
And I’d be like, “Elbow grease? WTF is elbow grease, G-ma?” Read the rest of this gem…
Carissima Siena,
Should I call you dearest, do you think, when our time together was so tumultuous and brief?
Like a couple of teenagers, we were — you exasperated at my poor skills of communication, and me laughing at your sometimes brazen sense of style. Read the rest of this gem…
“That olive tree is over 200 years old,” Elisabetta smiled proudly at Mario, urging him to tell the story.
Eyes shining with reminiscence, it was at that moment when stoic, business-like Mario Olivo loosened his metaphorical tie. Formality melted from his features and his body visibly relaxed. Read the rest of this gem…
“You have to build a brand!” they keep telling me.
“Blogging isn’t about what you do — it’s about the personality you convey.”
“You’re not selling your stories. You’re selling YOU.”
When I started Domestiphobia nearly 5 years ago, I didn’t realize I was entering a life of prostitution. Read the rest of this gem…
An amazing day trip through Tuscany results in 2 UNESCO World Heritage sites, meeting Italy’s oldest living playboy, and a healthy dose of Gemütlichkeit. Read the rest of this gem…
My name is Katie. I’m 32-years-old, I’ve been married for 8 1/2 years, I’ve owned 2 homes, renovated 2 kitchens, cooked countless meals, and yet I still — I still — make rookie domestic mistakes. Read the rest of this gem…
It’s that time of year again. Read the rest of this gem…