(Because if it’s not documented on the blog, do we really even have a puppy?) I grew up with not-quite-puppy dogs. My childhood was filled with slightly older rescues. Also dogs who were babies before I had entered the picture. And eventually my parents adopted a pup or two after I had exited the picture. P.J. had dogs, too, loyal family pets and veritable baskets full of shiny, licky, Golden Retrievers. But when we moved in together, we had cats. {Read More}
Chicago to the Berkshires, Part 4: WTF Movers?!
Part 4. Part Four?! Movers. Here’s the thing about movers. …Why. Why are they like that. (And oh my goodness, we’re SO CLOSE to the end of this saga! Related: Can you believe that I’m still blogging about this nonsense? You should see me in person. Theoretically, if we were able to have parties, I’d be real real fun at parties.) So. To catch up: Our moving “specialists” were jerks with a phone call returnability record akin to my middle {Read More}
Chicago to the Berkshires, Part 2: So, moving brokers?
OKIE doke. So. Can we talk about moving brokers in this one? Previously, on Chicago to the Berkshires (Part 1), our heroine found herself in a weepy puddle of nostalgia, compounded by a very real timeline of leavin’ town, with a nice dash of “haven’t slept for days n’ days” to really punch up the bawling. I think I did a fairly good job of portraying the feelings and emotions and everything else ramping up to the move…but what of {Read More}
Chicago to the Berkshires, Part 1: Goodbye, first home
(Today marks three weeks since we arrived at our new home in Massachusetts. More on THAT to come, because hoo boy. But for right now, a surprisingly/not super surprisingly hard one to write. I began this post the week before we moved but had to stop because…I had to stop. Stay tuned. Thanks in advance. Buckle up. Keep hydrating. And, you know, wear a mask.) An open letter to my home: Hey home, I know I’ve said some things in {Read More}
If 18 year-old Me saw me now. (A helpful primer!)
20 years ago, I was a college freshman. I had plans back then, you guys. Like Plans in capital letters. I was thinking about this baby version of myself the other day as I was living my fully grown, decidedly non-college freshman life. This train of thought quickly turned to “Oh my goodness, what would 18 year-old Me think if she were plopped down into my 2019 day?” (I can’t be the only one who has thoughts like this every {Read More}
Marriage. (And other things I’ve totally solved.)
Things that I, an expert, can tell you about marriage: Marriage is super wonderful. Marriage is incredibly, stupidly hard. (But it’s mostly wonderful.) (Except when it’s mostly hard.) Two thirds of all marital fights stem from at least one party leaving a household item in the incorrect location. Eight thirds of them involve a spouse “acting weird” about something. The phrase “just tell me what’s wrong because I don’t want to start a fight” invariably leads to a fight. Ways {Read More}
The Dads I love on Father’s Day
I miss my Dad today. (That’s a joke; I miss my Dad every day.) But working in social media with a constant stream of incoming PR requests, the tone this week has been decidedly “your Dad deserves this” and “how are you celebrating the father in your life?” It’s…hard. I think about how he always, always had the answer. And even if he knew what you were going to say and the roundabout way you’d get to your point, he’d {Read More}
Why I’m the worst at home renovations
I’m feeling stuck. About what, you ask? (…After a moment where you wonder if I’m just going to go ahead and start rambling anyhow, so the polite thing to do is to offer a token “ask?”) Well, I’ll tell you. We’re getting a new kitchen floor. WHAT A BOUGIE-ASS THING TO BE FEELING “STUCK” ABOUT. (I know.) But here’s the thing; after almost eight years in this house and dealing with exploding sewers and marauding rats and folks attempting to {Read More}