On trips, I’m a notorious over-packer. I love to over-prepare and dream up all sorts of situations I could find myself in: What if I’m invited to a fancy beachside
In case you missed how deeply I fell in love with Costa Rica the first time around, let me just iterate: I did. Hard. So much so that I’m returning
May she be fed and nurtured! I’ve been flowing to this and it helps me remember warm tropical rain, and excited for when I’ll feel it again. [spotify id=”spotify:user:129145202:playlist:7kmdSyRQarLaFCjK8S1Zdf” width=”300″
I was deep in conversation with Vanessa yesterday. It’s hard to believe that two weeks ago, we were barefoot in the tropical sunshine, sipping at coconuts through straws, traipsing through
Thursday I came back home after spending 12 days in Costa Rica. It could’ve been the bitter Chicago wind, or glimpses of my own dusky shoulders in mirrors, or nibbles
This is a promise: I am making international travel a Thing. With a capital T. If you have a lowercase “thing,” it’s a fleeting affair, you’re on a kick: I’ve
I just returned last night from a glorious week in Arizona. To 30 degree, slush-filled Chicago streets. Moving on.
On Thursday, Mom, Sister and I had a little touristy outing. My mom has been wanting to visit the Farmer’s Market in Daley Plaza for a while, and Vanessa heard
