
Normal people have a regular supply of certain foods always in stock. You know, things like mustard, ketchup, chicken breasts, American or cheddar cheese, pickles, Ritz crackers, olive oil…Sure we have some of these things in our fridge and pantry

Guys, I have a confession to make. While some of you may be new around here (Shout out to all my new blog friends from BlogHer!), the rest of you loyal blog friends understand my cheese obsession… Or do you?

I’m dying for Mexican food right now, you guys. My hope is that Brian and I will be going out for tacos and stuff (mostly margaritas, but whatever) if he agrees to it, of course. Otherwise it might be blender

I know. That title is terrible. But this ice cream cake? SO. NOT. TERRIBLE. So last week, Brian sent me an animated gif with ice cream sandwiches becoming a cake. With Brian’s birthday this past Saturday, and the fact that

After a certain point in your relationship, people start asking questions. They ask if wedding bells will be ringing in the near future. They start grabbing your hand every time they see you, hunting for a giant, sparkly rock. They address invitations,

Man. Our wedding…where to go from cheese? I guess I’ll start by explaining the bridal party. Because that shit got out of control real fast. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way. So it all started with the

Three years ago today, my house was filling up with my bridal party and family. We were doing all the things you do before your wedding, like slamming bagels and shmear, drinking champagne, and hurriedly trying to get last-minute details

I woke up in a hotel in River North the morning after Brian’s work holiday party. I had brought a couple outfits but after the wild night, I was leaning toward a pair of tie-dye yoga pants and a hoodie.

One month from today, I’ll be waking up next to Brian (um, yes. He’s not allowed to abandon me the night before our wedding, despite the fact that the world thinks he shouldn’t see me before our wedding. And despite

Brian and I are getting married on September 16. For those of you not interested in mathing that out, it’s approximately 4.5 months (or exactly 142 days) from today. We had our engagement photos last weekend, and they were ridiculous,

I removed the scale from my bedroom this week. There’s nothing helpful or healing to weighing myself every day, sometimes multiple times a day. It creates an obsession with arbitrary numbers instead of an understanding of how I feel, emotionally

If you’ve been here for a while, you probably already know that I typically don’t subscribe to this whole New Year’s resolution, “new year, new me” bullshit. Hell, I get mad when people talk about what a shit year the

I’ve always loved September. When I was younger, it was because it signified the start of school. It launched football season for the lifelong cheerleader in me. As a youth cheerleader, it was also the kickoff of competition season. September

WARNING: This post may contain triggers for and about eating disorders. I had intended to write about yoga, but this post molded into something completely different. Today, 1000 voices around the world are speaking and writing about compassion. This movement