If at any point you’ve been in a romantic relationship that lasted, let’s say, a year or more, you are surely familiar with the idea that the head-spinning early days of infatuation don’t last forever. In fact, legit scientific studies have shown that this period of “omg he’s so cuuuute chewing with his mouth open” lasts about six months.
Thanks to very real things like brains and human evolution, none of us can outsmart the chemical reactions that happen inside of us when we’re staring down the promise of new, exciting, this-is-definitely-the-thing-
😑 But we all know how this story goes. After that first period of flooding dopamine, the drugs wear off, life beg...
While Abby hosted a houseful of family, I traveled across the pond to London which was, as advertised, unbelievable at Christmastime. We were very fortunate to have had perfect weather and only one mediocre meal, so all in all it was a smashing success.
On the day of our return flight home, I thought about how the actual travel part of taking a big trip is largely forgotten. In these days of mobile boarding passes, we rarely have the IAD to LHR ticket stubs to keep as mementos. So unless the “getting there” was particularly memorable (like the time my poor child vomited the entire way from Iceland to Paris), we forget about it pretty quickly upon arrival.
Can you guess what that ...
When I moved into my house, it was brand new construction. It looked amazing — clean floors, sparkling fixtures, still had that fresh drywall smell. But you know how this story goes: in the first few months, the cracks started to show.
🚰 The water dispenser on the fancy fridge didn’t work.
🌧️ Our neighbor Aaron complained that the pop-drain in our lawn flooded his property every time it rained.
🚪 And then — the real kicker — the vendor repairing said pop drain left our garage door open when we weren’t home. And wouldn’t you know it, the fancy new e-bike I’d bought my husband just a month prior was GONE.
We were livid. The bike was expensive – it had bee...
What rolls along the ground, smells like a locker room, and has no WiFi?
Can you guess it??
It’s the Amtrak train, where I’m currently 2.5 hours into a 7.5 hour journey from Philly to Norfolk. Four cars—mine included—have broken air conditioning and it’s 95 degrees outside.
Why don’t I just move to a car with AC? Because I paid for business class tickets, since I’m traveling with my daughter, and unassigned seating gives me anxiety. Plus the seats have footrests which are crucial when you’re five feet tall or under. Oh, and there's a free drink.
So anyway, I’m sitting here in this swamp thinking about how few things are worse than having your HVAC b...
When Netflix dropped Nonnas, a "feel-good" Vince Vaughn flick about the restaurant business, we just knew we needed to write about it.
Here’s the synopsis: After losing his beloved mother, a man risks everything to honor her by opening an Italian restaurant with actual nonnas — grandmothers — as the chefs.
Cute premise and who doesn't love Italian food, but what made our blood pressure rise to dangerous Florida PTA book banning levels was the Hollywood treatment of opening a restaurant. Yes, it’s “based on a true story,” but just like Vince Vaughn’s forehead, the story is pumped full of neurotoxins to make opening a restaurant look smooth and carefree.
This is what infuriate...
What did we all do before memes? How did we express ourselves so pointedly? I suppose we’ve always been doing this, and I have a vague recollection from Latin 2 that people were etching sick burns on columns in the Roman forum.
Anyhow, I saw a perfect small business meme the other day:
EBITDA: Earnings before insomnia, therapy, depression and anxiety.
Lollllll.
No shade if you don’t get the joke. EBITDA really stands for earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortization, and it’s basically a calculation of profitability before all the complicated tax and accounting finagling.
If you DO get the joke, it feels spot on.
When my restaurant closed in 20...
I was a cheerleader in middle school. Like many other eighth grade girls, I did it mostly for the outfits, but also because I don’t have much athletic ability, and if I didn’t pick a sport, I had to do P.E. instead of study hall.
Now this was the late 1900’s (as the kids say), and the current brand of seriously athletic cheerleading had not yet made it to
...This week I’ve been listening to a four-part series about the Medici on one of my favorite podcasts, The Rest is History. Anyone with a mild interest in art history is surely familiar with the Medici family from Renaissance Florence who commissioned some of the most significant artworks in western history like Donatello’s David (the scrawny one, not Michelangelo’s ripped version) and Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus.
Not surprisingly, as the Medici banking business passed from grandpa Cosimo to son Piero and then to his son Lorenzo, the business acumen and attention to detail started to wane as the gout and baller-lifestyles grew. So when a feisty party-pooper friar named Girolamo Savona...
