I’m sure you’ve probably read Robert Fulghum’s All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. While I agree that there are some great lessons to be learned from this, I don’t quite agree that it’s all you need to know. Anyone who can say that has obviously never worked in a restaurant because that’s really where you learn everything. From how to tip to how not to treat people in the service industry, and from how to clean up after yourself to how to effectively run a business. You’d think some things would be common sense, but apparently not. Tipping and cleaning up after yourself aside (we’ll save those for another day), we’re going to focus on the most important thing: how to effectively run a business.
I was going to let this post slide under the radar, but after learning recently that I’m apparently banned from one of the restaurants I worked at over the summer for “blasting” them on social media after I left, I felt it was an appropriate time to look at my time there in a positive light and share with you what I was able to learn from the experience. Continue reading
As we rolled into San Diego on a sunny Sunday afternoon, depression started to set in. In less than 24 hours I was supposed to be boarding my flight back to Chicago and trading 80-degree temps for 50’s and rain. Determined not to let the inevitable (me leaving) get us down, we headed for Balboa Park to stretch our legs and let Baker make some friends at the dog park before checking into our amazing last-minute AirBNB booking at the Granada House (make sure to check out their blog too!!) in San Diego’s North Park neighborhood. As our stomachs began to growl (yes, gays really do eat sometimes), we set off for the beach to grab dinner and catch the end of the sunset.
I mean seriously…how can you not fall in love with this view?
And just like that, my love affair with San Diego began. Continue reading
Once upon a time, two twins were separated at birth. They lived apart for nearly 24 years before being reunited in Nebraska. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the tale of my unofficial (however it could be proven official if we got Maury Povich involved) twin and our tapeworm-fueled shenanigans/future plans.
Here we were in the booming metropolis of Lincoln, Nebraska. As any quality friendship begins these days, we were introduced by a mutual friend at the bar and bonded over vodka-sodas, tequila shots, frog sperm, and the fact that we shared the same ex-boyfriend with a Dorito-tinged skin color that rivaled Snooki’s circa season one of MTV’s the Jersey Shore. It was love at first sight for the two of us twins – well, within reason because twincest…well, that’s just gross. Continue reading