Before I get to my regularly scheduled post, I’d like to offer up a PSA. Or rather, a DSA — Domestiphobia Service Announcement — since it really actually only benefits me. Not the public. Read the rest of this gem…
Sometime in middle school, an English teacher assigned us a book about cities. Read the rest of this gem…
Well, I hate to break it to you, but it seems as though I’ve fallen into that trap that people who are moving tell you they’ll never fall into but inevitably always do — Read the rest of this gem…
Name that song.
I went through a fairly significant hard rock phase during my teenage years — the music, not the restaurant. (Though what child of the 80’s didn’t own a Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt sometime during the 90’s?) Read the rest of this gem…
*This post is long. But read to the end — there’s a little sumpin’ sumpin’ in it for you.
I realize I haven’t finished working my way through the highlights of our west coast trip yet, but I don’t know — it’s starting to feel like I’ve invited you to a cocktail party where you thought we might all get plastered and start playing truth or dare at the very worst, but instead I forced you to sit on the sofa and watch slide shows of family vacations. Read the rest of this gem…
I’m going to be honest.
(Because when am I not?)
Right now it kind of feels like we’re hemorrhaging money. Read the rest of this gem…
As you may have guessed by now, our recent tour of the west coast was a whirlwind one. Read the rest of this gem…
Name that show.
Okay, look.
There was a time, in the not-so-distant past, when hostels with shared dorm rooms, clothes stuffed into compartmentalized backpacks, cold showers, frizzy hair, and strangers serenading rooms with acoustic guitar and raspy voices was my idea of a dream vacation. Read the rest of this gem…
From post to prison to protest site to park, the island of Alcatraz has worn many hats. Read the rest of this gem…
Name that movie.
For those of you who may not know, I’m in the midst of moving my little sister — Read the rest of this gem…