life lessons from rebecca black

If I learned anything from vocal phenomenon Rebecca Black, it’s that we gotta get down on Friday. And boyyy do I plan on doing just that! Summer Fridays means it’s time to (poorly) pack our bags and join the thousands of other New Yorkers in the mass exodus from Manhattan proper! While the Romantic embarks on a weekend getaway to Cape Cod with the hubs, I’ll be heading to the slightly less glitzy, but equally as fun Lake Wallenpaupack, Pennsylvania, where I will be spending the weekend on a boat with a few friends and a cooler of cheap beer. We promise blog posts next week recapping our trips, but in the meantime, anxious readers,…

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the art of packing (and why i’ll never have it mastered)

When hubs and I are going away for the weekend, our packing conversation is always the same. I tell him on Tuesday that we have to pack, he says “ok, let’s do it!” and I say “well not right NOW.” I have to be in the MOOD to pack, or else I will pack all wrong! Or so I like to insist. But then Thursday night rolls around, and I say “uuugghhh we have to pack…” and he says “…yes, i know” and then I throw all of my summer clothes in the suitcase* and he tells me to cut it down and I drink a glass bottle of wine and say I’ll do it…

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jetsetters: the wino

Ahhh New York City. The city that never sleeps. If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. Yes, its true, the Romantic and I live in one of the most exciting cities in the world– the Big Apple, Carrie Bradshaw’s playground, the concrete jungle where dreams are made! But like, sometimes, on a Wednesday, the last thing I’m thinking about is venturing out to try something new. I’m just saying, by the time I get home from work tonight and sift through the thirty emails that came through on my Blackberry since the time I left the office, I may just want a glass of wine and a night in with season…

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mcqueen at the met

When Wino, hubs, and I met up in London a few years ago, we genuinely thought about sightseeing like normal people. I remembered being enamored by the Tower of London the first time I was there, and I assumed Wino would want to seek out her own future hubs in the Palace. But once we arrived, the thought of standing in any lines exhausted us before we even remembered where those places were located on a map. Once again, beer won out and we pub crawled our way around London, and Wino agreed that her real husband was probably waiting for her at Platform 9 ¾ instead. As you can probably guess: we don’t regret…

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this little wino went to the market…

Here’s what I know about strawberries – and it’s A LOT, considering my very first job was as an eleven-year old strawberry picker on a farm in Pennsylvania; the best strawberries you’ll ever taste are from Marche Monge in Paris. On any given day of the week, you’ll find produce markets that pop up all around the City of Lights, and the majority of true-blood Parisians wait to buy their produce at these neighborhood markets once or twice a week. It turns out, one of the best markets in the city, Marche Monge, set up shop only a few minutes walk from my apartment. I spent many Wednesday afternoons perusing the aisles of handmade cheeses, fresh-caught fish,…

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