Category: Loving the Entrepreneur

Jersey Boy

Posted on
Jul 26, 2011

– I married a boy from New Jersey. There is no state more unfairly maligned. Tell folks you are from anywhere else, no matter how abused and run-down, and the response will be better than if you say you are from Jersey. Detroit will get you sympathetic comments about the state of America’s heartland, and praises…

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Old Man Fishkin and His Grandfather

Posted on
Jul 18, 2011

Rand’s birthday was the Sunday before last, and it passed in our home with nary a cupcake to celebrate. It came, it went, and there was not a crumb of cake, not a spoonful of frosting, no cluster of friends crooning “Happy Birthday” off-key. I consider this an unforgivable oversight on my part. We tried…

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Home Introspection

Posted on
Apr 25, 2011

– Hi. Remember me? Yeah, it’s been a while. And I’m sincerely sorry. Those of you who’ve followed the blog religiously for last year or so (to whom I say both “thank you” and “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”) know that this is out-of-character. My highly-developed sense of Catholic guilt combined with an over-achiever attitude…

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He was made for sunny days

Posted on
Mar 1, 2011

And we never did stop talking and you still light up the room/ I was made for sunny days. I make due with gray/ I was made for sunny days and I was made for you. – There’s a song Rand has been playing a lot recently. It breaks my heart a little, each time…

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On Instagram @theeverywhereist

  • It's all about the cropping. #boop #thisagain #randaldineselfie #selfiesonaplane
  • Dinner with these handsome fools.
  • Finished products. Feeling pretty darn pleased.
  • One of us is not doing a good job of handling the prospect of returning home.
  • Staring from the stairs. Seriously, all hotels need to be built in old monasteries, don't @ me.
  • Him: Take my arm.

Me: *incoherent giggling*
  • It is incredibly hard to capture how incredible our hotel in Canelli is. It was once a monastery, and monks lived here for a hundred years. The halls echo, the ceilings are vaulted, and we eat breakfast in an old stone cellar.
  • A bit of Michelin starred magic this evening. Veal cheeks with onions, foraged salad, tajarin with loads of truffles, and a chocolate soufflé. And then she threw her pants out the window.
  • Rooftops in Barbarello.
  • Foggy rooftops in Canelli. We're staying at a hotel that was once a monastery above this little town.

All Over The Place

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