A twenty-something navigating city life with roommates, odd jobs, and an appetite for ski adventures and quirky experiences.
My group chat spent four days, 87 messages, and one formal poll deciding on brunch. We canceled the morning of. This is our love language. Picture this: It's a Tuesday night.
I finally did the math on my subscriptions. Then I had to sit on the kitchen floor for a while.
There's a special place in ski hell for people who save tables with one glove for three hours. You know exactly who I'm talking about — and if you don't, you're probably one of them.
Running Away from My Problems (Literally): A Couch to 5K Journey Remember when I [nearly passed out in hot yoga](/fitness/hot-yoga-more-like-sweating
Ski Lift Confessions: The Most Awkward Conversations I've Had While Dangling 50 Feet in the Air You know what's worse than being trapped in an elevat
Friend Breakups Are Worse Than Romantic Ones: My Tale of Two Brunches We went from sharing appetizers to sharing passive-aggressive Instagram stories
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