You know those people you see boarding airplanes that have zero bags, just the current issue of Vanity Fair under their arm. Where is their stuff? Have they hired porters to carry their belongings? Magazine’s are great and all, but they’re not going to keep you warm when the air gets blasted or fed when you get bored.
Jenny Lawson, aka The Blogess had big shoes to fill after her first mostly true memoir, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, hit #1 on the New York Times Bestseller List.
I’m what you might call perfume-phobic. I think I like the smell of some gorgeous looking bottle, so I give myself one little modest spray.
On the note section in my phone, amongst the weeks grocery needs and the ever growing file of books to read, is a destination bucket list.
Many of my adult friends have fond childhood memories filled with family camping trips. I have none. We did not camp. We beach’d. There was always a firm roof over our heads at the end of the night.
Whew, I just rode my couch all the way to Dubai with my favourite housewives of BevHills (it was an exhausting journey, but I have no regrets).
I’m having a bit of a love affair with Young Adult Fiction at the moment. Drawn to the raw emotion, seeping out of the pores, in such hormone-fueled years.
How much do you hate this resort game? The one where you race to the pool at stupid o’clock to spread your towel and place your reading material askew to indicate to other guests – – “this spot is taken“.
Dear fellow grownups,
You probably thought your days of packing an overnight bag for something other than a business trip were long gone. Wrong.