My husband is an Italian citizen, but I am not. Consequently, although I’ve lived in Pescara the last three months, I am still legally a resident of Massachusetts. We’re waiting on a long-stay visa; until then, I’m here as a tourist.
Why is it that an $80 a night hotel will feed you and a $280 a night hotel will not? I’ve wondered this for years now, ever since staying in a swank Boston establishment for an academic conference.
I don’t know that I believe in the freedom provided by road trips promised by so many American writers, sadly unattainable in an island nation that stretches 42 kilometres from east to west.
A restaurant in Brooklyn is adding a 3% Affordable Care Act surcharge to their checks. Good for them!
Money I spend to maintain my over-40 looks—even while realizing that I’m in pursuit of unrealistic standards of beauty.
It seemed like there was nothing we couldn’t do with red lipstick and a glue gun, but a trip to the Halloween costume store reveals those days are long gone.
We all know that sea levels are rising, but the cost of food may be rising too. By how much?
“I’ve probably spent around $40 on baby underwear, but I am who I am and that might not be everyone’s bag. I just love lingerie.”
Parents dropped the children off and disappeared promptly at 11 a.m., answering the question I had been pondering of whether this was a drop-off party.
I’d never heard of trichotillomania—the official name for hair pulling disorder—until I was idly Googling in my college library one night. “No way,” I thought.