They say when you live in New York City, you’re constantly in search of one of three things: the dream apartment, perfect relationship and a successful career. If you manage to nab each of these, you’ve officially made it. If you don’t – well I’m not so sure what that means exactly. Maybe that you should just throw in the towel, start taking the bus and give up ordering a skinny at Starbucks. Until that time comes though, consider this your reference guide to ensure you actually make it in this city (and coming from someone who’s snagged 2 out of 3, I figure I’m just as entitled as any to post this). Read the rest of this entry
Dear readers, I am currently writing to you from lots of miles in the air. I am en route from LaGuardia (often times my home away from home) to Orange County and LA via Atlanta. Starting in about December, I began traveling for work A LOT. This coming from a girl who spent the first 20+ years of her life never stepping foot in an airport. Since December, I’ve been to Omaha a handful of times, San Fran, Boston, DC, Chicago, Texas, Michigan, Connecticut, Florida, the Bahamas (all for work — I get a few personal trips in there every now and then too!).
Today though, my travel nightmares came true. For those of you who follow me on Twitter, you know I’ve been battling the world’s most epic cough. I’m on the way to beating Larry for good (yes, I named my cough — we’ve been together for so long!). However, after a failed z-pac attempt, the doctor put me on Prednisone and it’s leaving me all hyped-up and unable to sleep. Once I do fall asleep though, danger ensues. I was supposed to be out the door by 5:30 this morning. Instead, my day started a little something like this (please note the first 10 seconds):